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There’s two days left before I return to Western. We’re painting Hannie’s room a nice blue color, chatting all the while.

We discuss whether or not it’s safe for me to perch atop the ladder like an elf as I paint. We laugh at how much paint we’ve gotten on ourselves, and we muse at how we’re going to survive school starting up again. She has to take a math class, and she isn’t looking forward to it. I empathize–completely.

We discuss boys. Hannie says she admires boys who treat us as sisters in Christ and friends. I agree… Mostly.

“But isn’t there a point where you want them to treat you as a woman?” I wonder aloud.