“I’m dying,” she murmured, struck by the certainty of it. “I’m going to die. And I’ve never even been kissed.” “Cress. Cress. You’re not going to die.” “We were going to have such a passionate romance, too, like in the dramas. But, no—I’ll die alone, never kissed, not once.” He groaned, but it was out of frustration, not heartbreak. “Listen, Cress, I hate to break this to you, but I am sweaty and itchy and haven’t brushed my teeth in two days. This just isn’t a good time for romance.” She squeaked and tucked her head between her knees, trying to get the world to stop turning so fast. The
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