Andshetoucheshisearlobewiththetipofonefinger.Bringsthecrackletohim,untilheiswrithingandlaughingandbegginghertostopandbegginghertocarryon.Josquitelikesgirls.Shequitelikesboyswhoareabitlikegirls.Shemessagedhimprivately.Theymetatthemall.Theylikedeachother.Theymettwoorthreemoretimes.Andshebroughthimbackhome.Shethinks,Ihaveaboyfriend.Sheplacesherlipstohiscollarboneandfeelsthevibrationbeneaththeskin.Shekissesherwayalongit.Heislikeher,butunlikeher.Shestickshertonguebetweenherteethandlickshimwherehetasteslikebattery.She’susingalmostallofherattentiontorememberherlines.ButalittlepartofherbrainisstillwhirringoverthatquestionAlanaskedher.Isshehungryforit?Whydoesshewantit?ShethinksofJosandhowshe’dbeabletohelpherifshehadmorepowerandinfluence.Shethinksofthestateandhowshe’dbeabletoc
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