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She winces. “What was the gym teacher thinking?”

“I don’t want to have to replace the windows.”

“Dart throwing is out. Got it.” She taps her chin. “We can troll him on social media. Say he has a tiny you-know-what.”

“He doesn’t check his social media. Besides, half the world has slept with him. They know the truth.”

A memory of Dylan teasing Cash about how few women he’s slept with tries to push to the forefront of my mind, but I won’t let it. I’m not going to spend the day analyzing every little thing Cash and his friends said and did. That path leads to madness.

“How about a voodoo doll? We can make one of him and stick pins in it.”

My eyes widen. “Voodoo dolls? What do you know about voodoo dolls?”

“Gratitude’s Wi-Fi didn’t always work. This one time when I ran out of books to read on my Kindle, I plundered her bookshelf and found a book on voodoo.”

“Gratitude had a book on voodoo?”

Virginia shrugs. “It was all things voodoo or a book on the history of salt.”

“I don’t think we have the supplies to make voodoo dolls. Any other ideas?”

She shakes her head.

“I guess revenge is out.”

She rifles in one of the bags and brings out a bottle of wine. “Drown your sorrows?”

Now, we’re talking. I hold out my hand. “I don’t need a glass.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Ew. I do.”

She pours me a glass and hands it to me before returning to emptying the bags. She pulls out various chocolate bars, another bottle of wine, a bottle of tequila, a few bags of chips, and a pizza.

“We’ll have the pizza for lunch,” she says as she places it in the refrigerator.

“Lunch?” I check the clock. It’s only ten a.m. “Oh no. I didn’t think. Do you need to get to the library?”

“I’m taking a personal day.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

She picks up her wine and sits down next to me. “And you didn’t have to chase those bullies away.”

“They tripped you and made you drop all your books. Of course, I chased them away.”

She lifts her wine glass. “Of course, I took a personal day.”

We chink glasses before I take a large gulp of my wine. To her credit, she doesn’t say anything about my day drinking. She merely stands and grabs a bag of chips.

We move to the living room sofa where we drink our wine in silence. I manage to hold back the tears until the second glass.

“I can’t believe Cash.” I sniffle. “I told him I loved him and he walked away.”

Virginia wraps an arm around me and I lay my head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

I swipe at the tears flowing down my face. “He doesn’t want to drive a wedge between me and my mom.” I snort. “Mom drove a wedge all on her own when she blackmailed him into breaking up with me at our high school graduation.”

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