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Show WoodworthT^ "No. You have to promise me, and really mean it." "I do mean it, Jake." "Here, we'll swear in blood." His hands dart up into the tree again, worry the branches, snap a twig. He takes her hand in one of his, and she feels a rush again. This is something sacced, not like their old swears. This is something sinful. He scrapes against her palm until the twig breaks. It hurts, but she is afraid to say so, afraid of his intensity, his strangeness. "Oh, fuck," he says, and throws the twig down. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," and he stamps where the twig might have landed. "Never mind, Jake. I'll swear anyway." He grabs her and makes her kneel. Faces her on his knees in the snow, holds her down by her shoulders. "Promise me that you will never take drugs. Anything stronger than dope." His face;.is inches from her, white and round like the moon. "I promise. I swear." She begins to shiver against his hands. i "And promise me that you will never tell Mom and Dad what I've told you." "Jake. Of course I won't." "Swear." "I swear." His hands relax, dropping to his sides. She stands, brushing the snow off her knees. Two circles of dampness are printed on her tights. "Jake, we should go in now. I think they've started." He doesn't move. "Jake, Mom and Dad are going to get pissed." He looks at. the* ground where her knee prints are icing |