When he returned, it was always the same. This was the worst summer that I ever had in my life, Europe and all, and I can’t tell you how many times I drove by that Violin Camp hoping to catch a look at you, praying that there wasn’t some horny violin guy waiting to ask you out. Her heart full of dread, she dragged on it. “Through there,” he said, and pointed with the pamphlet he was carrying.
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