She’s pulling her insane curls back into a ponytail so thick that she can barely get her hand around it. The elastic band does its best, but snaps after one twist. “Goddamnit!” Nix curses. “Don’t worry, I’ve got one,” Sabrina says, taking the band off her wrist and passing it over to Nix. Nix successfully completes the ponytail, though the elastic is straining like a waistband at an all-you-can-eat buffet. She sees me staring. “Just . . . zip it,” she tells me. “I’m not in control of this hair.” I can’t help laughing. “Have you ever tried cutting it?” I say. “Yes.” Nix scowls. “It broke the
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