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You are in your sophmore year, 16 years old and proud of it. You are the talk of the school and get straight A's. As you walk to your locker, heads turn around to stare at you. You straighten up your clothes, a green t-shirt with a blue puppy dancing on the front, and your jean kapris and along with some flats. You get out your things for your next class and walk to your next class,...
brokentales.com/relato/frozen-fire/55/0/0
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