Ginger

Strawberry was not what I expected. She was a beautiful young woman with a wounded, contemptuous mouth and distant, wistful eyes. Of course she had been hurt; God, she must’ve been hurt. But that hot blend of hope and scorn that happened so quickly in her eyes — I was uneasy for Velvet and wished that she had picked another friend. I felt bad about it because of what Strawberry had been through. But still. I wasn’t sure I wanted her around.

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