There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. But perhaps you don't know; there was nothing in the pockets. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing. Lucy changed into her Goodwill jeans and sweatshirt, plastering her hair down with an elastic band and securing it under a tight hood. She began to weep in long, aching sobs. \"I'm sixteen, I'm a junior like you. .
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