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good, is it?" I say, my back to him.
"It's not bad. I was watching you practice your spins."
"Seems like no matter how much I practice, I still fall down."
He laughed. "Hey, I've been through it, too."
My gaze fastens on a title: The Illustrated Alice. I take it from
the shelf. "I get embarrassed when someone sees me slip."
"Understandably. You get used to it, though. Found one you like?"
I turn and put my glass on the desk next to his coffee mug. "Yes."
I hold it up for him.
He smiles broadly. "Oh, yeah, wonderful. You like 'Alice'?"
"Very much."
"Somewhere over there is a book about the author and the real
Alice. Even has some pictures he took."
I turn and scan the titles again. I glance in the mirror and see
him watching me.
"You're watching me just like you did when I was skating."
"I'm sorry. You're very pretty and I like to watch pretty girls."
Something lurches in my stomach. He thinks I'm pretty? Me? A
skinny, clumsy, gawky, no-tits, worthless Chinese laundry kid?
And for the first time in my life, I ha
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