“I’m a lesbian. Just thought you should know.” He’d calmly set his spoon down on the edge of the bowl. “Are you sure?” She’d nodded, still chewing. “Thank God,” he’d said, leaping up from his chair to hug her. “Pubescent boys showing up at my house to take you on a date is a level of stress I just can’t handle.” He’d wept with relief. “Please, Aspen—I beg of you—please don’t change your mind about this. Boys are nothing but bad news until they turn sixty. If you change your mind at that point, I’d offer my begrudging support. For the record, my strong personal preference is that you remain a
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