Right, then. Now I know why certain people were giggling in anticipation of dinner.
I'm not quite sure what Sabrina was intending, though it probably wasn't to lean towards Nick and mash her face against his for a moment, trip, grab onto the table for balance, up-end a pitcher of pumpkin juice all over me, slip on the spillage, and hit her head
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It was a rather unexpected turn of events.
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Not really, no. This seems to be the year of mishaps happening to my hair.
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