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Suddenly she was having trouble associating him with the noodle-armed, nerdy best friend she'd grown up with. The one who'd fainted when he'd seen the blood in her shorts. The one who'd broken his hand trying to fight the oak tree in her back yard. The one she had noticed, growing up alongside her; she'd touched him, slept next to him, had seen him naked countless times, but had never noticed the changes, she had never really looked.
Now that she had, though, she couldn't stop.
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