"Mr. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. “It’s okay, Michelle. ” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. My mom doesn’t realize that I’ve got my own style. But most of all, I wanted to love.
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