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... n’t be in here at the back of the bus, fighting the futile fight against the gentle sway of inertia and keeping myself awake.
The thing was, she’s a smart girl... the thinking, scheming type 24/7. The thought must have crossed her mind at some point, which must also mean that the fact that I’m still here anyway sticking out like the sorest, fanciest thumb amongst the casual-wearing crowd, she must have ultimately decided against it.
Why? And why a dinner date, anyway? Since when ...
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