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Directions an4@anon.lelnet.com Tonya looked out the window and tried her best not to be depressed. She couldn't believe that Helen had quit school with ten days left in the fall semester of her senior year. Their senior year. She could still remember back to when they were freshmen roommates, thrown together by their mutual tardiness submitting housing requests. At first, Tonya had hated Helen. FThe girl never slept. Well, she did- every night from 2 am to 6 am. It wasn't that she was a toad or throat- the truth was, she was an A student despite studying about once a week. No, she stayed up late playing games on a series of ever-faster Macs, or talking on the phone, or hanging out in chat rooms on the internet, or in the hallway. The truth was, Tonya was jealous of Helen's easy popularity, both digital and interpersonal. Then there was her lifestyle. She was never into drugs, but she was always smoking, and after about six in the evening, drinking beer. Her parents kept her in constant supply of Canadian beers and the RA their freshman and sophomore years had always been willing to look the other way. Looking back on that, Tonya was glad. Somehow she'd made it all the way through high school with ever drinking a beer, smoking a cigarette, or having sex. Helen had changed all those things. Of course, she hadn't intended that her brother, one year younger, would see to that the first time he came to visit, but she hadn't really seemed upset either. That wasn't Helen's way. And now she was gone. Tonya had gone from hating Helen's smoking to getting drunk enough one night to try it, to getting drunk enough to try it again, and finally, to smoking when she was perfectly sober. It had been an easy transition. First, she'd gotten over her dislike of Helen. Then she got used to the fact that her clothes always smelled smoky, that even her hair had the smell. That came from hanging out with Helen and her friends, being constantly surrounded by smoke. After a while, it almost grew on you, in a strange way. Which was exactly what her sister had said to her about a month after she started smoking for real. It was one of those strange juxtapositions of fate that shortly after Helen had finally broken down all of Tonya's resistance to smoking her parents had also sworn off their eight year experiment with quitting. That was what mom had called it in the aftermath. They'd gone to a party one night and gotten a little tipsy and just decided it was time to start smoking again. Her sister had started within two weeks, and by the time she'd gone home for Thanksgiving, they were all very happy in their decisions to start smoking or start smoking again. It seemed so long ago now. So many times that Helen had been home with her, even for Christmas last year. And now she was gone. The reasons were as obvious as they were unfathomable. A messy divorce last year was what had driven Helen away for the holidays, and somehow it had dragged on through the winter, the spring, and then the summer. The dust was just starting to settle when the fall semester started, but it was obvious that things hadn't been going well for her mom. Still. It seemed extreme to quit school to deal with it. Tonya picked up the pack of Marlboro Lights 100 sitting by her Powerbook, lit one, and sank back into her chair. The rush from the first inhale washed away some of the tiredness that had naturally accompanied the depression she'd been feeling. The smoking helped, but with every puff she was forcibly reminded of her friend. There was a knock on the door. It was locked and the lights nearest the door were not on. She could ignore the knock, sit and sulk and smoke until the sleep overcame her again. And that would mean no studying got done tonight, and it was far too close to finals to eat a day just because of some emotional stress. So Tonya got up and walked over to the door, turned the lock, opened it. It was Jessica. They weren't friends. It would have been a stretch even to say that she'd been friends with Helen, at least as far as Tonya could tell. That they were study partners- abnormal psych- was undeniable, but Helen had never really spoken much about her. "How's it going, Tonya ?" "I've been better, Jessica. What can I do for you ?" "Helen left some books and notes for me. I felt bad, not getting a chance to stop by and say goodbye-" "It was kind of sudden, you know. Come on in, take whatever you want from what she left." Jessica was the sort of quite, introspective girl who could be called on to uphold the stereotype of bookworm- albeit an attractive bookworm. She rarely got out to the parties, rarely went to the gym, rarely in fact, from what Tonya could figure, did anything but go to class, study, and eat. The other girl walked into the room with the slight hesitancy of someone who had things on her mind. Tonya pictured an unspoken question, but couldn't imagine what it would be. "That's her side of the room," Tonya said, pointing at an half of the room which still looked lived in. She drew deeply on her cigarette and sat down again, feeling all over heavy and lost. "She left her computer ?" "That's her old 6500. She didn't have any use for it once she got her G3. Her mom knew somebody out in California who got her a pre-production model in October. Don't ask how." "I heard she spent half her time playing games. It's hard to believe. She was always such a serious studier." Tonya exhaled a thick cloud of smoke and laughed. "Yeah. The one night a week she spent in the stacks with you. I hardly ever saw her crack a book." "She coming back for this ?" "No. She told me I could sell it or keep it. If you're interested-" "I might be, if I can figure out how to pay for it around my car insurance payments." Tonya watched as Jessica quietly selected two textbooks and three spirals from a pile. She did it slowly and with no eagerness, which Tonya liked. Other people had come in and acted like battlefield ghouls picking over the bodies of the dead. But she sensed some actual respect in the way Jessica slowly worked the items she wanted into her pack as her eyes lingered on a few pictures Helen had left behind on her bulletin board. "You want to go study ?" Jessica asked impulsively. No, the question sounded impulsive, but it wasn't. Tonya understood suddenly that for whatever reason, Helen's leaving had made this girl lonely as well. Of course, it was her study night, but still- "Actually," Tonya said, pulling deeply on her cigarette again, waiting until she exhaled to speak, "I'm feeling kind of tired." "That's a common sign of depression," Jessica said with the sort of wry smile one expected from a psych major. Helen had said that Jessica would make a fine clinical psychologist some day, not that that meant anything to Tonya, who found psych hopelessly boring. It only made you realise how weird everyone else was. As well as yourself. All that analysing. Tonya liked to think that not every action she took had some great personal significance. It took the pressure off. "Sorry, I didn't mean to insult you," Jessica added when Tonya's only response was to crush out her cigarette and light another. "You didn't. And I know with finals coming I can't really afford to sit and stew, but it's just hard. If I don't allow myself this now-" "You're right. But I'd rather not study alone, and you look like you could use getting out of this room for a few hours." ‘What's in it for you ?" Tonya asked, wondering if sinking into the bowels of the stacks was any way to shake of ennui. "I- this is kind of embarrassing, really-" Jessica sat down in Helen's old chair, which she'd brought up from home sophomore year. It was an old cloth recliner which had long since stopped reclining. It had broken springs and torn fabric and was wonderfully comfortable- not that Tonya had been able to bring herself to sit in it since Helen had left. "Get in line," Tonya said. "I've been taking all sorts of abuse for moping around her like somebody died." "That's how it feels, though, isn't it ?" "Sort of. I mean, you expect this when you graduate. You know there are people you may never see again. I have to wonder with Helen." "Anyone who could drop university this way, right ?" Tonya pulled deeply on the cigarette, enjoying the way the smoke filled her lungs. She would always have Helen to thank for this gentle pleasure. "So, embarrass yourself." "I don't know-" Tonya got up, walked over to the half-fridge, and pulled out two Molson triple X's. She thought about that, put them back, and settled instead on two Corsendocks. She held hers in the hand with the cigarette, the other she handed to Jessica, who took the Montreal Canadiens bottle opener/key ring on Jessica's desk and popped the cap. "Well, since you want to know, I- oh, this is so stupid." "Try me," Tonya said, inhaling and then chasing it with a deep draw from her beer. "Well, you know Helen always insisted on going to the lowest level of the stacks so that she could smoke. At first, it was really annoying, you know." "And then it grew on you, right ?" "Yeah. How did you-" "I didn't smoke when I came to school. I'd never so much as tried a cigarette. My parents smoked when I was young, but I was never interested and they quit when I was about ten." "My parents have always smoked. My older sister started when she was fourteen. It was really weird. She was like the most popular girl in our school, captain of the cheerleaders- all her friends smoked. Then I got to high school and I wasn't anything like her-" "You-" Tonya started to say, not sure how to say what she was thinking without insulting Jessica. "Yeah, I was a big bookworm in high school, too." "I wasn't going to say that- well, not exactly." "It's okay. There's a reason I never brought my high school yearbook in like most of the people here." Tonya sipped at her beer, inhaled again, enjoying the taste and feel of the smoke in her mouth. "It's not like you're unattractive, Jessica." "You can call me Jessie. And I appreciate that. Coming from you-" "What do you mean ?" Tonya asked. "Come on, Tonya. I hardly know any of the people you hang out with, but I know what all the guys think of you." Tonya would have liked to be coy about that. The truth was that Helen had always told her the same thing, and she'd sloughed it off as the kind words and constant teasing that was Helen's way. but she knew better. "So, you want me to go to the stacks with you so you can watch me smoke ?" It was such an odd question, almost hard to ask. While Tonya expected it to be equally hard to answer, Jessica surprised her with a quick response. "Not exactly. Recently, she's- well, you probably know Helen a lot better than I do." "And she can be very persuasive." "Exactly. But I'm not really that sort of person. Don't take that the wrong way. Helen told me how it was that she got you to start and I don't want to say-" "That I'm a lemming ?" "That's not how I would have put it, but- this is great beer." She studied the bottle. "Excuse me, Belgian Ale." It was an observant distinction. Which hardly explained why it was that Tonya found herself crying. She inhaled on her cigarette because although the tears were gently rolling down her face, there was no sobbing. Perhaps her background and her studies made her know what to do, because rather than comment, Jessica simply continued. "I'm curious, you know. I mean, I'll be sitting there- I'd be sitting there, after midnight. All the coffee in the world only does so much for me, you know. I'm fighting to stay awake and there she is, bright-eyed, plowing away, like she could go all night. Said it was the nicotine." "But you're not interested because of that-" "No. I'd watch her. Sometimes I'd just sit there, pretending to study, and watch her, taking one long inhale after another, that sardonic smile on her face, as though it was all she needed in the world, and I'd start to wonder-" The tears had stopped, as they always did. Tonya felt that she was one good cry away from getting the worst of it out of her system, but she knew herself too well. There would be no one good cry. It would never come. In her entire life, there was yet to be one of those good cries that you saw in the movies. Because- "Sure, let's go study. I'm one more early night in away from tanking my Late Victorian Women's Authors final, and considering that paper I wrote on mood in novelisation, I can't afford anything less than an A." "How can you study that stuff ? I tried reading Wuthering Heights once and I almost lost my mind." "Well, at least you're studying the right thing for that. Let me get my stuff together-" During the walk over to the library the two women talked. At first about Helen, but as the time passed and the snow started to fall, cluttering the crisp night air with fluffy crystals of heavy, wet snow, Tonya realised they had more in common than she would have imagined. She also noticed the way Jessica watched her smoke, as though the whole process was somehow fascinating. That was encouraging. Tonya was developing a plan of sorts. In a way, it was kind of exciting. She'd never tried to get anyone else to smoke. All of her friends were also Helen's friends, and all of them were smokers. A tightly knit community of a dozen or so smokers who sat in the smoking section of the dining hall and snuck outside between classes to catch a quick smoke break. Of course, Helen had already done the ground work, but Tonya found herself looking forward to giving this a try. It was nice, if nothing else, to have a goal. The night Helen had told her she was leaving Tonya had felt as though she'd been set a drift on a large body of water without land in sight. Jessica was right. It was depression. The library was full of students. This close to finals it would be that way twenty-four hours a day. As they walked inside, they were both struck by the awful heat of the place, the smell of human warmth which was not exactly pleasant. They wound their way through the halls to the elevator that would take them into the bowels of the giant building. The truth was, the library, and especially the stacks, had always intimidated Tonya. Part of it was the legend of the Jumper. It was the sort of stupid story that Tonya would have never normally treated as more than a ghost tale, because every university library was said to have such a thing. In this case, the ghost of Thurston Thomas Library was said to be a disgruntled graduate student who had jumped from the clock tower one night after her sponsor had given her a low grade on a research project. Way back in the fifties, long ago enough that real details about the suicide were scarce. That a young woman had pitched herself off the tower was undeniable- Tonya had never seen her, but late one night her sophomore year, she had heard her. Down in the very level they were going to. She'd been there alone. Helen was back at the room, hosting a small birthday part for one of their friends who'd had the poor sense to be born in mid- December. She'd passed on the party because she was staring down a twenty page paper with three handwritten pages of notes which she knew might, under perfect conditions, be the kernel of a good idea. It had gotten late, so late in fact that Tonya never heard the warning bells indicating that the library would be closing in fifteen minutes. They usually swept the building just before closing, chasing out the throats and sleepers, but late in the semester the student aids got sloppy, and no one came to let her know. She hadn't realised anything was wrong until the lights went out. That had been creepy enough. The lowest level of the stacks were a good fifty feet underground, and the only light came from the red glow of the emergency exit signs and the burning tip of her cigarette. The place was baking hot- they pumped heat from the old steam tunnels into this lowest level on the idea that it would rise to the levels above and the place was like a sauna in the winter. The problem with that red glow was that it marked only the emergency exits. Use one of those and every alarm in the building would go off, security would come, an article would be written in the student newspaper with her name in it. Somewhere, the elevator, which would still be working, was waiting to carry her to safety. She lit another cigarette and kept the lighter out and handy. Packed her books into her pack. She had taken a few tentative steps away from the table she'd been at when she smelled it. Strong cigarette smoke. Much stronger than her own, the sort that came from old-fashioned unfiltered cigarette like her grandparents smoked. She found herself following that smell instead of finding her way to the elevator. It wasn't until she heard the sound of gentle sobbing that she realised the elevator was in the other direction. The smell of the smoke and the queer noise of muffled crying made her imagine that some silly freshman had gotten lost down here and was now crying rather than looking for a way out. Tonya might well have chosen not to involve herself, but this was a fellow smoker, someone who probably needed a little help. She followed her senses to the centre of the level. It was the 000 level of books, dusty tomes on 14th century warfare and the evils of educating women, the sort of books even the history majors rarely touched. Those old moldies had an evil smell of knowledge best forgotten, the stench of decay. But the scent of burning tobacco was stronger. Still, Tonya began to feel a little claustrophobic down here. The tall shelves seemed to be pressing down on her, closing in as they stretched to a ceiling which seemed all too far away. It would have perfectly acceptable to panic, but instead she followed the path her nose was leading. She turned a corner and the smell of the smoke was so strong that she expected to see the glowing cherry of a lit cigarette, to be able to hear the deep breathing of the crying. The sound was definitely strong down this row she found herself in, but there was no cigarette and no hand holding it. Tonya's surprise was complete. She was sure that she was in the right place. And then it struck her. A cold so bone chilling it hurt. A tightness in the air which made it feel as though a hand had clamped itself down around her throat. She brought her cigarette to her mouth and inhaled, sure it was her imagination. As she drew on it the warmth of the smoke cleared her windpipe. The rush of the smoke cleared her head, and she heard, or thought she heard, three words, a tired plea. ‘How could he ?' They were gossamer things, these words, unverifiable, half imagined, half- heard. Emoted. Suddenly Tonya knew exactly where the elevator was, and she found herself running. She'd never gone back, until now, and never told anyone. As they sat down at the table Jessica reached over to the one next to them, asked a pretty young freshman if she could borrow one of the two ashtrays, and the spell of remembrance was broken. It was getting late. They'd been down in the stacks for over four hours and Tonya had amased herself by actually being able to study. She'd also gone through most of a fresh pack of cigarettes, lighting them after the other, smoking the way one could only when you sat in one place and were relaxed. It was a much more enjoyable sort of smoking than the rushed cigarettes Tonya took between classes, when the cigarette was never allowed to burn freely or just be held. Tonya found herself regretting the fact that she hadn't come here in two years just because she'd gotten spooked one night and wigged- it had to be her imagination- Or did it ? That bone-numbing cold had been real enough. She picked the pack of cigarettes up off the table and flipped back the top of the box. There were only four cigarettes left. The time had come. Jessica had watched her smoke all night, watched eagerly as if anticipating something. They hadn't really spoken much. It was the library after all. But she was getting to like her. She pulled two cigarettes from the pack and Jessica looked up at her. Her emerald green eyes were very pretty, offsetting her lightly reddish hair in a way that should have made her more popular with the other half of the coed set than Tonya sensed she was. "Would you like to try one ?" "I-" "I'll take that as a yes." Tonya put them both in her mouth, holding them gently between her lips, and lit them with her lighter. She took them both away with her right hand, enjoying the double strong hit of nicotine as she transferred one to her left hand and passed it to Jessica. No one noticed. Only smokers studied down here, and this was college after all. No one looked at you in shock when you lit a cigarette the way they might do in high school. The event that would change Jessica's life went unnoticed by all but Tonya. The cigarette was hardly smoked. Which Tonya expected. Instead, Jessica seemed content to getting used to the idea of holding it while she continued to study. There were a few cursory attempts to puff on the cigarette and at one point she got an entire mouthful of smoke, which was quickly exhaled. As it drifted towards Tonya she noticed it didn't have that pleasant smell of her own second hand smoke because it had not travelled into Jessica's virgin lungs. They didn't talk during the experiment. Instead, Tonya watched the way she held the cigarette, which she seemed to understand how to do. She tapped ash from it frequently, not letting an unsightly build-up develop. Shortly after she finished the cigarette, she picked the pack up, pulled out another one, and placed it between her own lips. Tonya watched with quiet appreciation as she lit it with a more experienced hand than she would have imagined. Jessica removed the cigarette from her mouth quickly, but as she did, she met Tonya's eyes and said "I'm going to inhale this time instead of just holding it." Tonya thought about that. The eagerness was a positive sign, but it might just be misplaced. "You can take your time with it, you know. If I were you, I'd wait until you were someplace more private to try that." ‘Why ?" "I remember what happened the first time I inhaled, that's all." "I can handle it," Jessica said, not understanding what Tonya meant in the least. Smiling, Tonya lit another cigarette of her own and watched amusedly as Jessica inhaled. She didn't get sick from it or nauseous. Just as Tonya had expected. Instead, her face flushed, reddening, and her eyes grew wide with shock at a sensation that Tonya was very familiar with. She thought back to how intense it had been the first time, and knew exactly what it was that Jessica would feel like doing. There was shock and confusion mingled with the excitement. Along with the definite impression that she was in the wrong place for this. Tonya thought for a moment, stood up without speaking as she grabbed her cigarettes and lighter from the table, and took Jessica by the hand. She led her to the bathroom. Although it had been a long time since she'd been down here, she knew that it was a small, two person bathroom with a lock on the door, which was perfect- even essential. Being that this was the smoking level of the library, there was even an ashtray by the sink. "What are we doing ?" Jessica asked, adjusting her glasses with the hand she was using to hold her cigarette. She then placed it between her lips and inhaled again, and the look on her face told Tonya that she was not making a mistake. Tonya didn't speak. Instead, she simply reached out, undoing the zipper on Jessica's jeans with patient hands. She half expected that Jessie would object, but the other woman said nothing. Instead, she exhaled slowly, taking her time, as though she'd come to the understanding that she should savour and enjoy this particular cigarette in a special way. Moving on, Tonya hooked her index fingers inside Jessica's soft pink panties and yanked them unceremoniously down around her ankles. Once clear of this obstruction, Tonya went to work, taking her time, letting her fingers slowly search for the secret sweet spot. Jessica moved her own hand down and guided Tonya until there was no question she was in the right place. They started standing up, but after Jessica finished her cigarette they moved to the floor. Uncertain, it took Jessica a moment to decide that Tonya would not mind some reciprocation. Still, neither woman spoke. It was exactly that unspoken agreement which made all this possible. There was no kissing. Just a series of endless touching, erotic, friendly, unselfish. A mutual decision to satisfy one another sexually as friends. They didn't stop at the end of the first cycle. In fact, it was at least half an hour later when they lit the last two cigarettes, no longer caring if anyone would notice how long the two of them had been in the bathroom together. That was when the lights went out. Deja vu gripped Tonya, who tried to convince herself that two years was a long time and her imagination was no longer quite so overstoked. Especially not with Jessica here. She was sure that Jessie was the sort who knew better than to think their was a ghost here in the stacks. "Damn it," Jessica said. "What's wrong ?" "Oh, the last time this happened to me- I don't know, it was-" "Did you see her ?" Tonya asked, understanding that no, Jessica was not someone who would be sensible enough not to believe in spirits. "You never see her. Just hear her, This has happened to me half a dozen times and I always think this time it won't happen, that my imagination won't run away with the dark and that faint fear you always have when you're somewhere you're not supposed to be late at night." "And here we are, down to these last two cigarettes we're smoking. Have you ever tried to talk to her ?" "Once. It's hard to find her, you know. You walk through row after row of books following the smell of cigarette smoke and the sound of that crying. I'm not even sure why I tried. I never quite found her. What would you say ? I mean, I can't conceive of what you talk about with a ghost-" "Who committed suicide. It makes me wish that someone had swept the stacks to make sure we weren't still down here." "We were in a locked bathroom, remember. And I think I can understand why it is that we didn't hear the bell." "So," Tonya asked, "what do we do now ?" "Well, I think we break for the elevators, ignore anything we hear or smell, and- if it's all the same to you-" "You're welcome to spend the night. There's an extra bed in my room these days." "Great. Is the Rat open twenty-four hours yet ?" "Last week before finals, yeah. Good thinking. We can go through the tunnels- once we get out of here." There was nothing else left to do but try and accomplish that task. They talked briefly about where it was the elevator was located in respect to the bathroom. Then they opened the door and- The smell was, well, Tonya only had the one experience with it, but the sweet yet harsh tinge of unfiltered tobacco smoke had never been this strong. It was almost as though it was coming from her own cigarette. She drew on it and the taste was not typical- stronger than usual, even the filter - There was something on Tonya's tongue, like a tiny piece of grass. Jessica noticed the sound first. She was expecting it, after all. Only it wasn't what she had been expecting at all. No, there was none of the quiet, patient sobbing she'd gotten used to. It was a gentle laugh instead. Easier to follow, which was good considering that despite what they'd planned they were following the sound. Tonya inhaled again, and once more found something on her tongue. She took the index finger of her free hand and plucked it from her tongue. Why she thought she'd be able to see what it was in faint light of the place was something she didn't consider. But she was sorry that she looked down. The impression- the false impression, she assured herself- that flashed across her vision- was of a dark gulf beneath her, of wind and snow blowing in the layers of air beneath her feet. The floor was nowhere to seen, the air was sharp and almost unbreathable. Then all that was gone and everything returned to normal. Jessica noticed her new friend's disorientation. "Does your cigarette taste funny ?" She reached up to her mouth and in the glow of her cigarette she saw the small piece of tobacco that came off on her index finger. Jessica looked down at it, and then did something decidedly strange. She fell over. Tonya didn't have to ask why. As she reached down to help her friend up she noticed that flesh-searing cold that she'd sensed that other time was back, strong beyond deniability. "What the hell is going one ?" An answer came from a source neither woman would have expected. Themselves. "Sorry, girls. Or women. It's women these days, isn't it ?" The voices were their own, although they weren't exactly. No lips moved. In fact, as the third voice continued to speak, Tonya inhaled on her suddenly strong cigarette. "I hate to do this to you, but it's my last night here and after twenty-five years, I needed to share this with someone." "I think you know who I am. Kelly Stouffer. The Jumper." "Why have you been here all this time ?" Jessica managed to ask, finding her own voice briefly. "I wish I could say that I really knew for sure. I mean, I know and I don't. Kind of sad, considering that I was a religion major. All I know is that my penitence was to stay here, smoking one cigarette a day until I'd smoked one for ever one I'd had during my life. Which is the only thing making me glad I'd only been smoking for a year when I died." Neither Jessica nor Tonya could find their voice now. "Please don't ask me where I'll be going when the three of us finish our cigarettes. Again, it's a little sad that I of all people don't know the answer to that question, but I do know is that wherever it is I'm going, I don't have to worry about waiting twenty-four hours between cigarettes. That's certainly a comfort." "This is-" Jessica managed. "I want to thank you two for staying behind tonight. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to spend this night alone. I know that I've disturbed both of you before, and I should be honest. Someone did come down here to clear everyone out, but I scared her off so I'd have the two of you to myself." Tonya took one last draw on her cigarette, realised that she suddenly wished she was smoking something longer. Naturally, there was still about a quarter of Jessica's cigarette left, but that wouldn't last long. "Why didn't you-" "Reveal myself before ? I couldn't. There are a lot of rules to all this. I wish I understood them. It would have made one hell of a better paper than the one I wrote-" Tonya turned to look at Jessica and realised that she wasn't just looking through her own eyes. "Go ahead, Jessica. I'm ready to go. After twenty five years, it's been long enough." Jessica did as she was asked. Tonya took the pack of cigarettes from the counter and stepped back. She wanted to watch Jessica buying for the first time. She stepped up and asked for the pack of cigarettes without any seeming embarrassment, handed over a five, and soon the two were finally outside and free to light up. There was no question that Jessica carried her end of it with the proper amount of excitement. "I can't believe how late it is," Jessica said as the smoke trailed from her mouth, disappearing into the falling snow. "And I don't feel like going to bed yet. You ever go to the diner up on Jackson Street ?" "Helen and I used to go there all the time." "They have a smoking section ?" Tonya smiled. "We never would have went back a second time if it didn't." She slung her arm across Jessica's shoulder and they began the long walk. |
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