“When she woke up Saturday, she felt fine for about thirty seconds. And then, she remembered what had happened. At least it’s the weekend, she thought. Then she thought, I should probably just quit. It’ll always be weird. I was doing really well, though. And, right before she got out of bed, she thought: Why can’t I find a boyfriend who’ll fuck me like that? Valerie stumbled to her bathroom, peed, wiped the rest of her makeup off. She had coffee and Lucky Charms, watched some trash TV, put toget...her a list of her errands for the weekend. She got out the emergency sewing kit her mom had given her, compared it with the enormous tear in her skirt, and she decided there was no way she could salvage it. It had torn almost all the way up the seam, past the seat of the skirt and almost to the waistband. Valerie was no seamstress, but it didn’t look like something anyone would be able to save, much less her with one needle and about three feet of red yarn. She sighed and tossed it into her kitchen trash can, took another sip of her coffee.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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