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“I’m sorry, I mean, I’m excited and of course I want to go with you, but it’s just…not really my scene. Come on, Emerson. I work in a skating rink.” “No, you work for Salacious Players’ Club as my secretary, remember?”
“You don’t have to. Every Saturday night at seven thirty. The black lights come on. We even sell glow sticks, if you’d like to take it up a notch.” “Oh really? I’m not quite versed in roller-skating culture. Do you think I’m ready for glow sticks?” He’s teasing me, and I don’t even realize until this moment that he’s still holding my hand in his. Or rather, we’re just holding hands since he’s relaxed his grip.

