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He smiled at me and then pointed behind him in the direction of the kitchen. "I have soda, juice, and cookies in the kitchen."
"Okay..." I trailed off, wondering about his random thought. "That's what they usually give me when I go donate blood," he teased with a snort. "I wouldn't want you to pass out from blood loss." "Tristan?" "Yes?" "Shut up."
"Okay, what about Chuck?"
oh hello
