Obi Laing

“Basically, everyone thinks--knows--how sweet I am.

Emma, you threw my sister through hurricane-proof glass.”
― Anna Banks, Of Poseidon

“Emma this is not a joke. Look at your hands! They're... they're... wrinkled!"
"Yes that's because-"
"No way. I'm not going down for this. This isn't my fault."
"Toraf-"
"Galen will find some way to blame me though. He always does. 'You wouldn't have gotten caught if you didn't swim so close to that boat, tadpole.' No it couldn't be the humans fault for fishing in the first place-"
"Toraf."
"Or how about. 'Maybe if you'd stop trying to kiss my sister, she'd stop bashing your head with a rock.' How does my kissing her have anything to do with her bashing my head with a rock? If you ask me, it's just a result of poor parenting-"
"Toraf."
"Oh and my favorite: 'If you play with a lionfish, you're going to get pricked.' I wasn't playing with it! I was just helping it swim faster by grabbing its fins-"
"TOR-AF."
He stops pacing along the water, even seems to remember that I exist. "Yes, Emma? What were you saying?”
― Anna Banks, Of Poseidon

“Galen?”
“Hmm?”
“You can put me down now.”
“I’m not ready yet.” He tightens his hold.
“You don’t have to hold—“
“Emma? Can you hear me?”
“Uh, yes. I can hear fine. I just can’t see—“
“That’s a relief. Because for a minute there, I thought maybe you didn’t hear me when I said I’m not ready yet.”
“Jackass.”
― Anna Banks, Of Poseidon

“What did I do?”
“What did you do? Well, for starters, you used your face to stop a cafeteria door from swinging open.”
― Anna Banks, Of Poseidon