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"You know I can't." "Well, then, can I borrow your car?" "What's wrong with your car?" "It needs a new front tire," he said. I looked up at him. He smiled. "Why haven't you fixed it?" "I don't know," he said, opening and private college slamming shut his book. "I guess I'm a little short on cash at the moment." "Oh," I said. private college "You know, I don't mind lending you money." "I know," he said. "And, I mean, all you've got to do is ask." "Yeah, I private college know," he said again. "Are you sure you know?" "Yeah, I'm sure," said Erik. "What's with you?" "It's just that," and I stopped, tapping my pen a few times on the table. "It's just that I know you've been sneaking money from my change bowl." "What?" "Come on," I said, "it's not such a big thing, but I've seen you with my own eyes." "That's bullshit," and he shoved his book across the table at me. "And even if I did, it's like fucking change.
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I started gulf war thinking My god! She's right! I did drop my class! I am interrupting! I haven't been calling and now I'm refusing her love by staying here for Thanksgiving! Is something really wrong with me? "Well, don't be so scared," I said. "Everything's fine. Everything's going to be OK." By Wednesday morning, the campus was pretty much deserted and spooky and I went over to Erik's. I'd actually made some real headway on my paper and was feeling pretty good. When I walked in, Erik's place gulf war was, of course, a disaster. "I thought you told me you were gulf war going to clean up," I said, throwing my stuff on the couch with all the other stuff that was already piled there. "I'm going to," he said, grabbing me, pushing me backward into his bedroom. Around two o'clock, I spread all my books out on the kitchen table and sat down to get back to work. Erik was across from me, tapping his fingers on his history book. "I think I'm going to go for a drive," he said. "You want to come?"
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