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Janie calls Cabel. Hi, uh, Mom, she says. Cabel snorts. Hello, dear. Did you make it through the blizzard? Yeah. Barely. Janie grins into the phone.
Lisa McMann
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Lisa McMann
Age: 56
Born: 1968
Born: February 27
Author
Novelist
Writer
Holland
Michigan
Dear
Janie
Yeah
Blizzard
Says
Barely
Make
Hello
Calls
Phone
Phones
Cabel
Mom
Grins
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Hippie said he couldn't stay. Be back tomorrow -Love,Mom
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Whatever I want,' he says. 'Yes.' 'I'm afraid you haven't been privy to that dream yet.
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So, ah, I'm not sure if you know this, but you're not wearing a shirt. Distracting, isn't it?
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That was the goth stage, where I decided I'd never get the girl of my dreams because of my scars. Not to mention my hairstyle. (pause) But then she slammed a door handle into my gut. And when a girl does that to a boy, it means she likes him.
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It's just the end of some things. And the beginning of others.
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It's the intent, not the word, that makes something harsh.
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Jacian Obregon. It sounds like a melody. Or a tragedy.
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Cabel gives her a quizzical look. I am totally not getting enough attention here.
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But then you slammed a door handle into my gut. And when a girl does that to a guy it means she likes him.
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Oh baby, he whispers. Steps back. Out of the doorway. His face ashen. He walks slowly back to the kitchen. Leans over the counter. Puts his head in his hands. His hair falls over his fingers. The bathroom door clicks shut. She stays there for a long time. He's pulling his hair out.
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I lurve you, circus freak, Cabel says. It almost hurts to hear him say that. I lurve you, too, you big lumpy monster man, Janie says. That hurts even more to say.
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Just stand. Bend. Balance.
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So, what are you doing tonight? Me? Janie laughs. Homework, of course. You want company? Carrie's looking wistful. Do you have homework to do? Of course. WEther I do it or not is the real question.
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The phone rings. “Asshole,” she mutters. She picks it up. “Will you let me explain?” “No.” She hangs up.
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You're asking for trouble, Hannagan, he growls. And you would be....? Janie asks. She giggles. Trouble.
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With practice, you will master your own dreams.
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Do you still love me, Janie?' Janie stares at him, incredulous. 'Yes, of course! I don't say it lightly.' 'Say it lightly in my ear,' he demands. She smiles, rests her soft cheek on his scratchy one, and whispers it. 'I love you, Cabe.
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