The same acts. The same words. The same expression etched on his face. It always starts with her playful request:“Fuck me before she comes home.”P...rhaps if she’d added a question mark, he would have refused. She hates him for that: for not refusing. That dark-eyed guy with a pressing erection and strong, broad hands. His fault. He shouldn’t have smiled at her. He shouldn’t have stood so close when she brushed past him each night in the hall. He shouldn’t have embraced such a fucking cliché –. ” I struggled to think of a joke but I just smiled back and simply said “It’s nice to meet you.”She just smiled, nodded, and let go of my hand.“So how do you know Dan then?”I was a bit taken aback from that. Nobody called him Dan, he was Daniel to everyone. He’d gotten into arguments with teachers over it. I simply raised my eyebrow and replied, not really wanting to point it out.“Oh, we’ve known each other since elementary. Going on what,. More

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