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... pulling my hair into a neat ponytail. Thank my mother’s generous heart—she’d actually given me a room that smelled like a toilet. Through walls thin as paper, Serena and Lyra’s arguing drifted in fragments—something about Serena’s latest romantic disaster. Again.
"He said he’d call!" Serena shrieked.
"He’s never going to call!" Lyra shot back. "You slept with him on the first date. What did you expect?"
"Shut up! At least I can GET dates!"
I closed my eyes. Breath ...
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