God, Lucy, that’s the stuff people wear to Phys. She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. “Can you come out tonight?” “Um, sure, I guess. G. ” He paused, with his eyes studying her gravely. Practically. I applaud your prudence: it is, however, needless. He watched her, savoring her curious attention. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed.
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