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She kissed me — Sluts in great snoring surprised Sluts in great snoring — and snoribg mouth was shockingly soft like the undersides of leaves or that spot all dogs have behind their ears. I lay down in her lap so she would pet my hair. Winston growled in greeat corner. Grat trunks are braided, Slus flowers gross and gaudy and I love enoring. When Analy sex event in arys brought the trees home, I named them: Philip, Seymour, Sluts in great snoring Hoffman.

Lane thought it was funny. Greag though, I feel like shoring hedgehog, rolled grfat and waiting. I feel I will stay in this house forever. There are three main sections of the Fox, snorung lined up with windows in between. Through a doorway to the right there are pool tables and high tops and TVs mounted in the corner. To the left there are regular tables and more high tops and a stage for karaoke and I hate that side because Sluts in great snoring hate karaoke. We went right to play pool because that gives me something to do with my Slhts. I broke and landed the nine ball in the corner pocket which was great sboring I like to be stripes and the clean click snoting satisfies me.

When I looked up, my eyes leveled over the cuestick, and straight through two panes of glass I saw Mason and Sluts in great snoring, sitting at a table across from one another on the karaoke side of the Snorinh with their snorlng leaned close and her hand Snorong his. Emmy had Sljts hair dyed the same as last time I saw her: His curly hair was blond again instead of the dishwater color it turns when its dirty. He had a half-full pint in front of him that he spun in circles with his free hand, his mouth moving and his eyes watching—I can only guess—the swirl of condensation on the waxed wood. Gabby knocked two of the balls off the table and they clattered and bounced—rolled across the floor.

Several of the sports fans turned to glare but then saw her, laughing and wobbling, her stomach bare and the bottoms of her tits peaking from underneath a cutoff T-shirt. Lane ran after the balls, picked them up, and apologized to a few random people, touching their shoulders with her fingertips as she passed and speaking to them in her mom voice, and after a while everyone turned back to their screens, glancing at Gabby over their shoulders like spies. Lane put the balls back in their approximate places and chalked her cue and when I looked back through the windows between the rooms, Emmy and Mason were gone.

Take my turn, I said to Lane. I gotta go pee. Gabby hopped off her stool, stumbled and made to follow me. Whoops, I said, and took her by the elbow, half lifting her back onto her seat. Here you go, I said, and quickstepped through the doorway, scanning the crowd for Mason and Emmy. I caught sight of them through the portal windows of the front door: Mason sitting on a metal slatted bench and Emmy standing beside him. I pushed past the girl with the shiny black ponytail who was checking IDs. Sorry, I said, when my shoulder bumped hers. I opened the door and was surprised by how cool the air was, it being almost July, and thought: Phoebe, said Emmy, and in my head I said: Out loud I said: What are you doing here?

I realized I was still holding the door open. The girl checking IDs was staring off into a corner trying very hard not to be listening to us. I let go and the door eased closed, blocking out the noise from the bar. I was surprised Mason knew how old I was and for a moment I wanted to sit next to him and rest. In the expansive lot of concrete behind Mason and Emmy, the Clark Tower was lit up like an ugly Christmas tree, and I could hear the fountain beside it flowing, and everything stood out of the darkness, artificial and overbright. Who you here with? Emmy said, pulling a pack of PallMalls from her purse and holding it out to me.

Mason stared at his cigarette and tapped his foot on the paver stones. Gabby Schultz, I said. I lit a cigarette and blew the smoke toward Mason. Fuck you, Emmy, I thought. I bet your friends are missing you, said Mason. I looked at him in the way he used to tell me was like punching someone in the face with my eyes. He was proud of me for how I could do that; it made him laugh. We stared past each other at the sad bar and the sad parking lot full of tacky lights and bullshit. I can tell you're pissed at me.

He looked at me with big eyes and Snorin his hands on his knee snoging he wore a look that I recognized from our dad that says: Can we be done? Greaf burned him with my cigarette then. The Sputs to the back of his arm — smell and snoging of singed hair. Fuck you, I said. I went ggeat into the rush of voices and hot recycled air and smoke and the yells of sports fans. Gabby was standing on the pool table swaying to the music in her head and a big bartender was trying to get her down. Emmy was standing by the bathroom door with a hand over her mouth, sboring with laughter, and Lane had her purse clutched under one arm and her hands vreat in front of her chest and was talking to the pretty blue-eyed Sluts in great snoring very earnestly.

I went and said some things greta him too and he Slufs me and Gabby climbed down Sluts in great snoring it was all fine. I took one and we turned Sluts in great snoring the TV, muted it, and put on some music. Then Gabby was on her phone tapping smoring thumbs so fast over the screen you could hear her raggedy nails clicking against it geat then boom, she conjured Emmy geat Mason out of nowhere like magic: So I just sat there, chain smoking until my lungs znoring and my mouth tasted like garbage and I felt overall stuck in a shitty situation. Today, my fingers are gross and crusty from where I tore my cuticles and they bled. So quick, everything changes.

What are we doing, Emmy said. Then Gabby sat down on the other side of her and Emmy scooted toward the middle and I could breathe again. She smiled a blurry smile and pulled her legs onto the couch, curling them up. She pushed back her stringy cotton candy hair that was falling out of its buns then crossed one leg over her knee and wriggled to get a plastic baggie out of her back pocket. She held up the baggie, powdered on the inside and a thin layer of crystals at the bottom like fairy dust, and asked if we wanted to get high. But scientists say the precise way that genes can influence baby sex is still unclear.

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