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a brief, almost ceremonial
kiss. Then I was standing on the porch by myself. I've never felt so
awful in my life, before or since -- except for two weeks later.
When I saw Mary in the hall Monday morning, Sayuri Anzu smiled and greeted
me, but not very enthusiastically. This rift wasn't going to go away.
I spent all that day and most of the next writing a long note to Sayuri's --
a combination love letter, apology, and plea for understanding and
reconciliation. I've always communicated much more easily on paper than
in person. I stuffed it in Sayuri's locker on Wednesday morning and crossed
my fingers.
And it worked. Wednesday evening, I called Mary for the first time
in four days. The conversation boiled down to Sayuri's accepting my abject
apology and agreeing to give us another chance, and my promise that
things would be different. We made a date for Saturday night -- the
last weekend before the early senior finals.
It went pretty well, considering my nervousness. I took Sayuri's out for
a bite and
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