By Rhea Dee
My palms were sweaty. Not promising. I looked over at my friend, Hillary. There was no trace of apprehension on her face. Not surprising, really, considering this was year two for her.
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By Rhea Dee
My palms were sweaty. Not promising. I looked over at my friend, Hillary. There was no trace of apprehension on her face. Not surprising, really, considering this was year two for her.
Full Story »