Haley

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In a rush, I blindly tie my hair back, grab the cereal bowl off the floor and drop it in the sink—Cornflakes, dinner of champions. “You all right over there, girl?” Bianca teases. “I know you’re always channeling your inner Barry Allen, but you’ve been looking at the clock every five seconds with a whole new kind of dread, more than the usual.”
Dirty Curve
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