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... arby conversations pause, "you’re eating actual garbage."
Before I could even process what was happening, she swept my cafeteria tray away and replaced it with what looked like a gourmet meal from some place that probably requires reservations and knowledge of which fork to use for what.
"We’re going somewhere after school," she continued, not bothering to lower her voice or pretend this is a private conversation. "I’ll pick you up at your locker. 3:30 sharp."
Tommy and C ...
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