forty-five

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         There was nothing different about that night. 

         Well, there was one thing.          

         Mandy and I, in an unfamiliar basement, slept together.

        I won’t say any of that “made love” bullshit, because Mandy always hated when girls made their first time this big ordeal.  She really didn’t care whether we had sex by candlelight, or to the sound of a furnace warming up.

       If I didn’t have such a black cloud hanging over my head, maybe that night would’ve stayed at that night.

         But I guess I always have a way of fucking things up.

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