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r. "But why don't any
boys tell me that? No one has ever so much as asked me out on a date."
"They will," he says quietly. "I would."
"You really think I'm pretty?"
I watched his face in the mirror. He's nodding, but he seems
uncertain of whether to say something.
"What?"
"Oh, Judy, you're -- What? Twelve? -- and I have a hard time
keeping my hands off you even now. I can't tell you how much I'd like--"
He stops and shakes his head.
"What?"
"I -- I just wish I could put my arms around you and hold you?"
I question him with my gaze in the reflection.
"Yes, really."
I shift to the side, standing fully in front of him. The top of my
head barely reaches his chest. I reach back and take his hands in mine
and pull his arms around me.
"So would I."
I see his reflection's eyes close tightly, feel the tightness in
him as he turns his head to one side and rests his cheek against the top
of my head -- and feel him s
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