“He reached over and tweaked one of my bumps, then cuffed me on the chin. “You hiding walnuts in there or something?” “Shut up,” I said. I jumped in and swam the length of the pool, hiding my smile underwater. He was a flirt, that was all. What was wrong with that? If Mrs. Masicotte was stupid enough to buy us a pool because he flirted a little, that was her problem, not ours.”
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