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March 14, 2007
“look at how stubbly they are,” she says with a smile, thrusting her leg in my face.
“whatevs, kelley. that’s like four days. i don’t even count that.”
“of course you don’t,” she says, running a hand up my shin, “your legs are covered in peach fuzz. mine are like alcatraz.”
“alcatraz?” I laugh. “who even talks that way? i’m telling you girl: you were born to be a poet.”
delighted, she does a clumsy curtsy and spin, soaking up the attention like a little kid. she turns to nate, all smiles.
“alcatraz,” he says shaking his head. “really, kelley.”