Or like when they were fifteen and overnight she’d started wearing the same baggy black hoodie Every. Single. Day. And her hair in a ponytail. And the stupid black converse tennis shoes she’d had since they were twelve. He’d gone over after two months of her dressing the same way and told her she needed to knock off whatever crazy, emo shit she had going on. He’d told her that wearing black made her look whiter than the inside of a potato—he
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