Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. You know I call that positively wicked. We are very poor, but manage to squeeze a little happiness out of each day. CHAPTER XVII. E. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. “Fuck you, Julian Rimbauer.
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