Julie René

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“I need to pee!” I announce. “I’ll come,” Bree says, glaring at me. “We need to discuss some very important matters.” “No, I need to pee alone. I get nervous when there’s an audience.” “Last week, I literally stood in a stall with you while you peed.” “It’s a newly developed issue. Don’t judge me.”
Faking Under the Mistletoe
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