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“Beautiful.”

No one had ever called my beautiful before. Not even mother and daddy. Melody handed my one of her purses and told me to put my stuff into her bag. It turned out to be the first on many gifts to me. I emptied my stuff into her—my bag and then turned back to my new friend, and looked at her like, what do I do now? She made a gesture toward the door. Since we had the same first period class Melody and I would walk together, for the first time ever. I wore my pretty t-shirt from old navy, the light blue green one that showed off a slight bit of cleavage and Melody’s faded jeans. I wore her other pair of coach flats, ones that matched my outfit. We left the room together and headed to History.

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