Tia Movie Quotes

Someday, I’ll gain telepathic powers like every other regular movie ghost and I will go all Freddie Krueger on his bony, little, rat arse!” I rolled my eyes, but kept marching down the street. “Then I’d have to go all Ghostbusters on yours.”, I tried to keep my voice low to keep from drawing attention to myself. “No, you wouldn’t. You love my arse, darling!”, he walked backwards few feet in front of me. His big smile was enough to make me grin and roll my eyes again at him.

Just then I looked up to see Chef Pascal standing over our table. "Excuse me for one moment." He reached over me, and I think Emerald and I both gasped aloud at him. He smelled like bacon and caramelized onions and had a movie-star-perfect face, soft but still chiseled. A little stubble. Dark skin and big eyes with long, thick lashes. And the gold streaks in his eyes? Even better in person, luminous and crackling with light. Now I felt like Melinda in the living room, asking me what I was. Was he Egyptian? Mexican? Spanish? But of course he wasn't like me at all. He was closer to a model or an actor than anyone like me. Pascal didn't appear to notice our gawking. He removed the housemade kimchi-ghee hot sauce from our table and replaced it with a new bottle. He gave a soft, barely there smile, then continued to the other tables, leaving almost every girl- and many guys- shivering in his wake. "Ha!" Emerald said, clearly exhilarated. "That was a rush, huh?" "Yeah..." Elliott struggled. "That guy... has a lot of tattoos." I watched Pascal march back into the kitchen. From the pass, where the dining room met the kitchen, I thought I saw him look back at me, too. Yeah, right, Tia, I thought just as quickly. Like that could ever happen.

They’re your new cooters,” she announces, and I duck with a snort. I happen to know a cooter is a turtle, but it’s still hilarious to hear a six-year-old say it so casually. Haddy pushes Axel at her and squeals. “Axel can be friends with your cooter,” Kimmie says, trying to tuck the turtle under her baby cousin’s arm. “Tell her, Eddie!” Edward’s brow furrows, and he looks around the decorated patio. “It’s probably not a good idea to have so many balloons in a yard full of newborn kittens.” Edward’s logical tone reminds me of Mr. Spock from the old Star Trek movies. He’s got the dispassionate delivery on lock.