“…Well, my guy admitted to playing the flute. My face couldn’t hide my disappointment. I immediately thought of us as an eighth grade couple; him carting around his little purse-like black flute case and me dying my hair black, devouring issues of Spin magazine on my beanbag chair, and flipping an L7 cassette in my boombox. I hate us as an eighth grade couple. It never would’ve worked!”
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