The hallways of Forks High School buzzed with the familiar chaos of morning classes switching, lockers slamming, and the general noise of three hundred teenagers trying to navigate their day. Bella and Edward walked through it all like they existed in their own private bubble, the coat wrapped around her shoulders marking her as distinctly *his* in a way that made conversations pause and restart as they passed.
"There," Edward said quietly, nodding toward a figure near the cafeteria entrance. "Jessica's waiting by the doors."
Bella followed his gaze and immediately spotted her friend, clutching what was unmistakably Bella's brown leather jacket and wearing the kind of expression that suggested she'd been rehearsing conversation topics since dawn. Jessica's eyes were wide with barely contained excitement, and she was practically bouncing on her toes as she spotted them approaching.
"Oh God," Bella muttered under her breath. "She looks like she's about to explode from curiosity."
"She's been thinking about this conversation all morning," Edward said with obvious amusement. "Apparently she has a list of questions she wants to ask you."
"A list?"
"Written in the margins of her history notes. Very thorough."
"Of course she does." Bella took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for whatever interrogation Jessica had planned. "Okay. I can handle this. Just... a normal conversation between friends. About normal teenage things."
"Such as whether you're dating a vampire?" Edward asked mildly.
"Such as whether I'm dating you," Bella corrected. "The vampire thing stays between us for now."
"For now?"
"Well, eventually I'm going to have to tell people something. I can't keep making excuses for why my boyfriend doesn't eat lunch or why he disappears whenever it's sunny." Bella paused, realizing what she'd just said. "Not that I'm planning to tell anyone you're a vampire. Just that I'll need to come up with some kind of cover story for your more... distinctive traits."
"Cover story," Edward repeated, his mouth quirking in that small smile. "Like what?"
"I don't know. Really bad allergies? Extreme dietary restrictions? Religious fasting?" Bella shrugged. "I'll figure something out."
"Bella! Oh my God, there you are!" Jessica's voice cut through their quiet conversation as she practically launched herself across the cafeteria entrance. "I've been waiting forever! I have your jacket, and I have so many questions, and—" She stopped abruptly as she got close enough to see Edward clearly, her mouth falling slightly open. "Oh. Hi, Edward."
"Good morning, Jessica," Edward replied with polite courtesy, inclining his head slightly in that old-fashioned way that made him look like he'd stepped out of a different era.
Jessica's cheeks flushed pink, and she seemed to struggle to remember how to form complete sentences. Which, Bella had to admit, was a fairly normal reaction to being in close proximity to Edward Cullen. Even knowing what he was, she sometimes found herself momentarily stunned by his impossible perfection.
"Here's your jacket," Jessica said finally, thrusting the leather coat toward Bella like it was a peace offering. "You left it in my car yesterday. When we went to Port Angeles. Before you... before you two..." She gestured vaguely between Bella and Edward.
"Before we had dinner," Bella supplied helpfully, accepting her jacket while keeping Edward's coat firmly wrapped around her shoulders.
"Right. Dinner." Jessica's eyes darted between them, clearly trying to decode the situation. "How was dinner? I mean, you said you'd tell me everything, and I've been dying to hear—"
"Jess," Bella interrupted gently, very aware that Edward was probably listening to every thought currently racing through her friend's mind. "Maybe we could talk later? I don't want to be late for first period."
"Oh. Right. Of course." Jessica's face fell slightly, but she nodded. "Maybe at lunch? Or in math class? Because I really want to hear—"
"Math class," Bella agreed quickly. "We'll talk in math class."
"Okay. Math class." Jessica glanced at Edward again, her cheeks still pink. "It was nice seeing you, Edward."
"You as well, Jessica," Edward replied with that same polite courtesy.
As Jessica hurried away toward her first class, casting meaningful looks over her shoulder, Bella found herself alone with Edward again in the bustling hallway.
"So," Edward said conversationally, "what are you going to tell her?"
Bella felt her stomach clench. "What do you mean?"
"Jessica wants to know if we're secretly dating," Edward said, his golden eyes dancing with something that might have been mischief. "She wants to know how you feel about me, whether I kissed you last night, whether we're planning to go to prom together. She's very thorough in her curiosity."
"You can hear all of that?"
"Every word," Edward confirmed. "Along with several very detailed theories about my intentions and a surprisingly accurate assessment of how expensive my clothes are."
Bella closed her eyes, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. The realization hit her like a physical blow—she couldn't talk to Jessica about Edward. She couldn't confide in her friend, couldn't share her excitement or her fears or her confusion, because Edward would hear every word of it filtered through Jessica's thoughts.
She was completely alone with this secret.
"I..." she started, then stopped, not sure how to voice the sudden sense of isolation that was washing over her. "I don't know what I'm going to tell her."
"You could tell her we're dating," Edward suggested, his voice carefully neutral. "It's not entirely inaccurate."
"Is that what we're doing? Dating?"
"I certainly hope so," Edward said, his voice growing softer. "Unless you prefer 'conducting a complicated supernatural courtship ritual.' But that seems like it might raise questions."
Despite everything, Bella found herself smiling. "Dating is simpler."
"Much simpler. And it gives you a reason to explain why I'm possessive about lending you my coat."
"You are possessive about that," Bella observed, pulling the charcoal wool more tightly around her shoulders.
"Extremely possessive," Edward confirmed without shame. "I'm also curious to hear what Jessica thinks about us being together."
"Why?"
"Because Jessica's opinions tend to reflect general social consensus," Edward explained. "Her thoughts will give me a good sense of how our relationship is being perceived by the rest of the school."
"And you care about that?"
"I care about whether you're comfortable," Edward said quietly. "Whether people are treating you differently because of me. Whether being associated with me is making your life more difficult."
The concern in his voice made something warm spread through her chest, but it also highlighted the impossible position she found herself in. Edward could read her friends' thoughts, could hear their opinions and judgments and private conversations. Which meant that Bella couldn't talk to anyone honestly about the most important thing happening in her life.
"Edward," she said slowly, "I need to ask you something."
"Anything."
"Can you... not listen? To Jessica's thoughts, I mean. When I'm talking to her."
Edward blinked, clearly not having expected that request. "You want me to not listen to Jessica's thoughts?"
"I want to be able to have a private conversation with my friend," Bella said, hearing the slight edge that had crept into her voice. "I want to be able to talk to someone about... about us, about how I'm feeling, without knowing that you're going to hear every word of it secondhand."
Understanding dawned in Edward's expression, followed quickly by something that looked like guilt. "Bella, I'm sorry. I didn't think—"
"It's not your fault," she said quickly. "I know you can't help what you hear. But I need... I need someone I can talk to openly. Someone who can give me advice or just listen when I need to work through things. And if you're going to hear everything I say through their thoughts..."
She trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence without sounding like she was blaming him for something he couldn't control.
Edward was quiet for a long moment, his expression cycling through emotions she couldn't quite identify. When he spoke, his voice was careful, controlled.
"I can try," he said finally. "To not listen, I mean. It's... difficult. The thoughts are always there, always competing for attention. But I can try to focus elsewhere when you're having private conversations."
"You'd do that?"
"Of course." Edward's voice was immediately certain. "Bella, you shouldn't have to sacrifice your friendships because of what I am. If you need privacy to talk to Jessica, or anyone else, I'll do everything I can to give you that."
The relief that washed over her was so intense it made her knees weak. She hadn't realized how much the prospect of complete isolation had been weighing on her until Edward offered her a way out.
"Thank you," she said softly. "That... that means everything to me."
"You don't need to thank me. This is what I should have offered from the beginning." Edward's expression grew more serious. "Though I should warn you—I can't make any promises about perfect success. Sometimes thoughts are too loud or too emotional for me to ignore. And if Jessica thinks about anything that suggests you're in danger..."
"You'll listen anyway," Bella finished.
"I'll listen anyway," Edward confirmed without apology. "Your safety trumps your privacy, every time."
"Fair enough." Bella adjusted the strap of her backpack, preparing to head toward her first class. "I should probably go. Mr. Mason gets cranky when people are late."
"Bella." Edward's voice stopped her before she could take more than a step. "Are you... are you feeling overwhelmed? By all of this?"
The question was asked with such careful neutrality that Bella knew it was anything but casual. Edward was worried about her, worried that the weight of his revelations and the complications they brought were too much for her to handle.
And honestly? He wasn't entirely wrong.
"A little," she admitted. "It's a lot to process. The vampire thing, the family dynamics, the fact that I can't have normal conversations with my friends anymore. The realization that my life just got incredibly complicated in ways I never could have imagined."
"Do you regret it?" The question came out barely above a whisper.
"No," Bella said immediately, the word carrying absolute conviction. "I don't regret it. I'm overwhelmed, but I'm not sorry. Does that make sense?"
"Perfect sense," Edward said, his relief so obvious it was almost palpable.
The warning bell rang again, more insistently this time, and students began moving more quickly through the hallways toward their classrooms.
"Go," Edward said gently. "I'll see you in biology."
"Biology," Bella agreed, then impulsively rose on her toes to press a quick kiss to his marble cheek. "Try not to be too perfect while I'm gone. You'll make the other boys look bad by comparison."
Edward's smile was so bright it seemed to push back the gray morning light filtering through the hallway windows. "I'll do my best to be merely extraordinary."
"Good compromise," Bella said, already backing toward the English wing. "See you later, boyfriend."
"See you later, girlfriend," Edward replied, and the formal way he said it—like he was testing out the words for the first time—made her heart skip a beat.
As Bella hurried toward her first class, pulling Edward's coat more tightly around her shoulders, she found herself smiling despite the overwhelming complexity of her situation. Yes, her life had just become infinitely more complicated. Yes, she was dating a vampire who could read minds and sparkled in sunlight. Yes, she was going to have to navigate family dinners and friend conversations and everyday teenage interactions while carrying the weight of impossible secrets.
But Edward had called her his girlfriend. He'd promised to try to give her privacy when she needed it. He'd looked at her like she was something precious and wonderful instead of something to be afraid of.
And honestly? That was worth a little complexity.
Even if that complexity was currently taking the form of Jessica Stanley's overly curious mind and a math class conversation that was going to determine how the rest of Forks High School viewed her relationship with the most beautiful, most mysterious boy in school.
---
English Literature dragged by with all the enthusiasm of a funeral march. Bella sat in her usual seat near the back, trying to focus on Mr. Mason's analysis of symbolism in *The Great Gatsby* while her mind churned through everything that had happened since yesterday evening.
Twenty-four hours ago, she'd been a normal seventeen-year-old girl whose biggest concern was whether Jessica would remember to pick her up for their Port Angeles shopping trip. Now she was the girlfriend of a century-old vampire who sparkled in sunlight and could probably bench press her truck without breaking a sweat.
*Girlfriend.* The word still felt surreal, like something she was trying on that didn't quite fit yet. She'd never had a boyfriend before—not a real one, anyway. There had been boys in Phoenix who'd asked her to school dances, casual friendships that had occasionally veered toward something more, but nothing serious. Nothing that had made her feel like the ground was shifting beneath her feet every time he looked at her.
And now her first real relationship was with someone who technically qualified as a supernatural predator. Her mother was going to have *opinions* when she found out.
If she ever found out.
Bella twisted her pen between her fingers, only half-listening as Mr. Mason discussed the significance of the green light. The problem wasn't just that Edward was a vampire—though that was certainly a significant complication. The problem was that she literally couldn't talk to anyone about it.
She couldn't call her mother and gush about the beautiful boy who'd taken her to dinner and told her he was falling in love with her. She couldn't confide in her father about her fears and excitement and the way her heart raced every time Edward looked at her with those impossible golden eyes.
And she couldn't even talk to her friends about the normal aspects of dating—the butterflies, the uncertainty, the giddy happiness of being wanted by someone she cared about—because Edward would hear every word through their thoughts.
It was isolating in a way she hadn't expected. She'd always been fairly private, had never been the type to share intimate details with casual acquaintances. But this was different. This was being completely alone with the most important thing happening in her life, unable to seek advice or support or even just the normal teenage validation that came from having friends squeal with excitement over relationship developments.
"Miss Swan?"
Bella's head snapped up, realizing that Mr. Mason was looking at her expectantly while the rest of the class watched with varying degrees of interest and amusement.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?" she asked, feeling heat rise in her cheeks.
"I asked for your thoughts on Gatsby's idealization of Daisy," Mr. Mason said with the patience of someone who'd spent decades dealing with distracted teenagers. "Whether you think his devotion is romantic or problematic."
Bella glanced down at her copy of the book, trying to organize her scattered thoughts. "I think..." she started, then paused, an uncomfortable parallel occurring to her. "I think Gatsby's problem isn't that he loves Daisy, but that he loves his idea of her. He's built up this perfect version of who he thinks she is, and he's so invested in that fantasy that he can't see who she really is."
"Interesting," Mr. Mason said, nodding. "And do you think that kind of idealization is inherently problematic in relationships?"
"I think it's dangerous," Bella said, warming to the topic despite her earlier distraction. "Because when you put someone on a pedestal like that, you're not really loving them—you're loving your projection of what you want them to be. And that's not fair to either person."
"Very good. Now, can anyone give me an example of how Fitzgerald demonstrates this through—"
But Bella had already stopped listening again, her mind caught on her own words. Was that what was happening with Edward? Was she so fascinated by his supernatural nature, by the impossible romance of it all, that she was idealizing him instead of seeing him clearly?
She didn't think so. If anything, Edward had been brutally honest about his flaws, about the danger he represented, about his capacity for violence. He wasn't trying to present himself as some perfect romantic hero—quite the opposite. He'd spent most of their conversation the night before trying to convince her that she should be afraid of him.
But what about Edward's feelings for her? Was he idealizing her because she was the first person whose thoughts he couldn't read? Was his interest based on who she actually was, or was it based on the mystery she represented?
The thought made something cold settle in her stomach. She spent the rest of English class trying to push it away, but it lingered like a splinter, impossible to ignore.
By the time she made it to her second period Spanish class, Bella felt like she was walking through fog, overwhelmed by questions she couldn't answer and complications she couldn't discuss with anyone.
She slumped into her seat next to Angela, grateful for her friend's calm presence. Angela was one of the few people at Forks High who didn't seem to require constant social maintenance, who was content to exist in comfortable quiet without feeling the need to fill every silence with chatter.
"You look tired," Angela observed as she pulled out her Spanish textbook.
"Long night," Bella said, which was certainly true even if it didn't convey the full scope of what had happened.
"How was dinner with Edward Cullen?" Angela asked, her voice carrying the kind of careful neutrality that suggested she was trying not to be nosy while still showing friendly interest.
Bella felt her stomach clench. Here it was—the first of what would undoubtedly be many conversations about her relationship with Edward, all of which she'd have to navigate without being able to say anything meaningful about what was actually happening in her life.
"It was good," she said carefully.
"That's nice," Angela said, and Bella could hear the genuine warmth in her voice. "He seems... intense. But in a good way, I think. Like he really pays attention when he's talking to you."
"He does," Bella agreed, thinking about the way Edward looked at her like she was a puzzle he was desperate to solve. "Sometimes I think he pays too much attention."
"Better than the alternative," Angela said with a small smile. "Most boys our age barely listen when you're talking directly to them."
"True." Bella managed a smile in return, grateful for Angela's lack of pushiness. This was exactly the kind of conversation she could handle—supportive but not invasive, interested but not demanding details she couldn't share.
"I'm happy for you," Angela added as Señora Martinez began calling the class to attention. "You've seemed... I don't know. Lighter, I guess, since you started talking to him."
Lighter. That was an interesting way to put it, though Bella supposed it was accurate. Despite all the complications and impossible revelations, despite the overwhelming nature of everything she'd learned, she did feel lighter somehow. Like some weight she hadn't realized she'd been carrying had finally been lifted.
Spanish passed more smoothly than English, partly because Señora Martinez's rapid-fire conjugation drills didn't leave much room for distracted thinking. By the time the bell rang, Bella felt slightly more centered, more prepared to face whatever the rest of the day would bring.
Which was good, because next period was math class.
With Jessica.
Who had a list of questions about Edward written in the margins of her history notes.
Bella took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and headed toward what was undoubtedly going to be the most complicated conversation of her academic career.
---
Mathematics had never been Bella's favorite subject, but she'd always found a certain comfort in its predictability. Numbers behaved according to logical rules. Equations had clear solutions. Even when the problems were complex, there was always a systematic way to work through them to find the right answer.
Today, however, math class felt like walking into an ambush.
Jessica was already seated at their usual table when Bella arrived, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail that somehow managed to look effortlessly perfect despite the morning fog. She'd arranged her supplies with unusual precision—notebook open, pencil sharpened, history notes strategically positioned where Bella couldn't help but see the questions scrawled in the margins.
*Did he hold your hand?*
*Are you officially dating?*
*Has he kissed you yet????*
The questions were written in Jessica's distinctive bubbly handwriting, punctuated with hearts and exclamation points that made Bella's stomach twist with a mixture of affection and dread.
"There you are!" Jessica exclaimed as Bella slid into the seat beside her. "I've been dying to hear about last night. And don't think I didn't notice that you're wearing his coat. That's like, a major relationship milestone."
Bella glanced down at the charcoal gray wool that still wrapped around her shoulders, carrying Edward's scent like a tangible reminder of his presence. She'd forgotten she was still wearing it, had become so accustomed to its weight and warmth that it felt like a natural extension of herself.
"It's cold," she said, which was true if not particularly illuminating.
"Bella." Jessica's voice carried the tone of someone who was not going to be distracted by evasive answers. "You disappeared from Port Angeles with Edward Cullen, didn't show up to dinner with me and Angela, and now you're wearing his clothes. I think I deserve some details."
Mrs. Peterson called the class to attention before Bella could respond, launching into a review of yesterday's homework with the enthusiasm of someone who genuinely believed that polynomial equations were the key to understanding the universe.
Bella dutifully opened her notebook and tried to focus on the quadratic formulas being written on the board, but she could feel Jessica's impatience radiating from the seat beside her like heat from a furnace.
"So," Jessica whispered during a brief lull while Mrs. Peterson helped another student. "Dinner. Details. Now."
Bella chewed her lip, trying to figure out how much truth she could share without venturing into supernatural territory. "We went to La Bella Italia. We talked. It was... nice."
"Nice?" Jessica's voice pitched higher with disbelief. "Bella, Edward Cullen asked you to dinner. That's not nice, that's miraculous. What did you talk about? What did he order? Did he pay? Are you dating now?"
"Jessica," Bella hissed, glancing toward the front of the classroom to make sure Mrs. Peterson wasn't listening. "Can you keep your voice down?"
"Sorry," Jessica whispered, but her excitement was undiminished. "But seriously, you have to give me something. The entire school is talking about you two walking in together this morning. Lauren saw you holding hands in the parking lot. Mike looked like someone had kicked his puppy when he heard about it."
"Mike will survive," Bella said dryly.
"So you are dating?" Jessica pounced on the non-denial like a cat on a mouse. "Oh my God, you are! I can see it in your face. You're glowing. Like, literally glowing. That's the glow of a girl who's been thoroughly kissed by a gorgeous boy."
"Jessica—"
"Did he kiss you? He did, didn't he? Where? Was it romantic? Please tell me it was romantic because if Edward Cullen's first kiss isn't romantic, I'm going to lose all faith in the universe."
Bella felt heat flood her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands with a groan. "We did not kiss."
"Yet," Jessica said with absolute certainty. "But you want to. I can tell. And he definitely wants to. The way he was looking at you this morning... God, Bella, that boy is completely gone for you."
"You think so?" The question slipped out before Bella could stop it, vulnerability bleeding through despite her efforts to stay composed.
Jessica's expression immediately softened, her excitement giving way to something warmer, more genuine. "Oh, honey. You should see the way he looks at you. Like you're some kind of miracle he can't quite believe is real."
The description was so accurate it made Bella's chest tight. That was exactly how Edward looked at her—with wonder and disbelief and a kind of careful reverence that made her feel precious and fragile and infinitely valuable.
"He's..." Bella started, then stopped, not sure how to finish the sentence without revealing too much. "He's different from other boys."
"No kidding," Jessica said with obvious appreciation. "He's like something out of a magazine. All cheekbones and mysterious intensity. Plus he dresses like he has his own personal stylist."
"It's not just that," Bella said, surprised by her own need to defend Edward against the suggestion that his appeal was purely superficial. "He's... he pays attention. Really pays attention. Like, when he's talking to you, you're the only thing in the world that matters to him."
"That's exactly what I mean," Jessica said, her voice growing dreamy. "He's got that whole intense, brooding thing down to an art form. Very Mr. Darcy meets James Dean. It's incredibly attractive."
"Mr. Darcy meets James Dean," Bella repeated, unable to suppress a smile. "That's... actually not a bad description."
"I know, right? Though honestly, I think he's more attractive than either of them. There's something almost otherworldly about him. Like he doesn't quite belong in boring old Forks." Jessica leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Angela thinks there's something mysterious about his whole family. They're too perfect, too beautiful, too everything. It's like they stepped out of some alternative reality where everyone looks like movie stars."
"Angela said that?"
"Angela notices things," Jessica said with a shrug. "She's observant like that. But anyway, back to you and Edward. Are you officially dating? Because if you are, I need to know so I can start planning your wedding colors."
"Jessica!"
"What? I'm just saying, if you manage to land Edward Cullen permanently, I want to be involved in the planning process. This could be the social event of the decade."
"We're not getting married," Bella said, though even as she said it, she found herself wondering what marriage would even mean when one person was immortal and the other was decidedly not. "We're just... figuring things out."
"Figuring things out," Jessica repeated. "So you are dating."
"I guess we are," Bella admitted, and saying it aloud made something warm and fluttery settle in her stomach. "It's new. And complicated."
"All the best relationships are complicated," Jessica said wisely. "Especially when one person is a mysterious Adonis with perfect hair and the other person is normal."
"Gee, thanks."
"You know what I mean," Jessica said, waving a hand dismissively. "You're beautiful, Bella, but you're also approachable. Relatable. Edward is like... he's like looking at a Renaissance sculpture. Beautiful but untouchable. Except apparently he's not untouchable, at least not to you."
Before Bella could respond to that particular observation, Mrs. Peterson's voice cut through their whispered conversation.
"Miss Stanley, Miss Swan, would you care to share your discussion with the rest of the class?"
Both girls straightened immediately, Jessica's cheeks flushing pink while Bella tried to look like she'd been paying attention to polynomial equations rather than discussing her love life.
"Sorry, Mrs. Peterson," Jessica said quickly. "We were just... discussing the homework."
"The homework that involves romantic relationships and mysterious boys?" Mrs. Peterson asked dryly, her expression suggesting she'd heard enough of their conversation to know exactly what they'd been discussing.
"It's a very comprehensive curriculum," Jessica replied with a straight face that made several students snicker.
Mrs. Peterson shook her head but returned to the lesson without further comment, launching into a complex explanation of factoring that required actual attention to follow.
For the rest of class, Bella tried to focus on mathematics, but her mind kept drifting back to Jessica's observations. Was Edward really as otherworldly as Jessica made him sound? Did other people notice the same impossible perfection that had caught Bella's attention from the first day?
More importantly, did it matter?
By the time the bell rang, Bella felt like she'd spent forty-five minutes in some kind of social laboratory, being studied and analyzed by someone who was far more perceptive than she'd given credit for.
"So," Jessica said as they packed up their supplies, "are you going to eat lunch with him today? Because if you are, that's basically a public declaration of coupledom. The entire cafeteria will be watching."
"Great," Bella muttered. "No pressure."
"Hey," Jessica said, her voice growing more serious. "For what it's worth, I think you're good for him."
Bella looked up, surprised. "What do you mean?"
"I mean he smiles now," Jessica said simply. "When he looks at you. Before, he always seemed kind of... I don't know. Distant. Like he was going through the motions of being a normal teenager but his heart wasn't really in it. But when he's with you, he looks actually happy."
The observation hit Bella like a physical blow, partly because it was so unexpected and partly because it echoed something she'd noticed herself. Edward did seem different when they were together—less controlled, more spontaneous. More human, if that was possible for someone who wasn't technically human at all.
"Thanks, Jess," she said softly.
"Just promise me you'll bring him around more often," Jessica said with a grin. "I want to bask in the reflected glory of being best friends with the girl who landed Edward Cullen."
"I'll see what I can do," Bella promised, though she had no idea what that would actually entail.
As they left the classroom, Bella found herself thinking about Jessica's questions, about the observations that had been so much more insightful than she'd expected. Her friend had noticed things about Edward that Bella was only beginning to understand herself—the otherworldly quality, the sense that he didn't quite belong in their ordinary teenage world.
The question was: what was she going to do with that information?
And more importantly, how was she going to navigate lunch in a cafeteria full of people who were apparently watching her relationship with the intensity of sports fans following a championship game?
---
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