I settled for the evasion he'd used. They'd had to turn off the music, and the DJ's endless prattle was mercifully absent. His curls were plastered to his head, and his hair looked black in the candlelight. The way you felt, the way you fought, the way you smelled, everything was shapeshifter.
What do you mean? Do you really think three years ago you would have dated him after you saw this? I glanced back at the stage. Ronnie, hi, and I was thinking furiously. From less than two feet away, the sawed-off would have been better, but there was no time. Then he'd held my hand, and I'd struggled to keep up, to understand.
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