“I think they’re all upset about her.” “Is that another of your ‘feelings’?” I cross my arms. “Do you want me to share my instincts with you or not?” “Share them,” she grumbles. “I don’t have any instincts at all.” “Everyone has instincts, Niamh.” “Not me. I have . . . a university education.” “Oh, shut up.” I’m standing over her, looking down. Her cropped hair looks even better brown than it did platinum. “I’ve seen you play lacrosse.” “You don’t remember me playing lacrosse . . .” “I’ve told you, I remember now. Do you need help getting up?” She pushes herself up and brushes grass off her
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