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Dede sits across from me and purses her lips. “When did you last talk to him?” “The Dean?” “No! Dwight.” “Really talk? Not since we broke up, sophomore year of college.” “Come on. Are you saying that after six years with Dwight, after thinking he was the one, after all the breaking up and making up, you never talked again? You must at least have slept with him when you were both home over the holidays? Fess up.” She leans in towards me waiting for the answer she expects. “Do we have to talk about this?” She picks one of the steel balls on the Newton’s Cradle desk toy and lets it drop down. The steel ball on the opposite side swings up. The first ball flies out again. Dede knows I can’t stand the click-clacking noise the balls make but I have to leave the annoying toy on my desk because one of last year’s student lawyer teams gave it to me and they drop by regularly to visit. I hold up my hand. She steadies the moving metal balls and the noise stops. “We have not slept together! Not everyone sleeps with everyone they ever liked.” I narrow my eyes at her. “Except maybe you.” “I do not!” she insists. “I happen to have a healthy, active sex life, M’lee, but you have no sex life.” She grins her slightly crooked but sexy smile -- according to every man I know, including Dwight come to think of it. “How do you think I got this way, Sis?” I point toward my belly. Sadly, this baby’s conception dates to the end of my sex life, as Dede knows.
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