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"Hey, Glasses Girl."

One day I will remember names. When I'm thirty or something.

Their host opened the door and welcomed them inside. Hurrah, he said his name, I no longer have to guess. I was close, anyway. He then asked if anyone wanted to play ping pong.

"Ping pong? Sure, I'm all over that shit. And I'm Mallory, by the way, I'm bad with names so I'm probably gonna forget them."

As the girly-looking guy--Glasses Girl had said his name was R.J, right?--hurried off to the bathroom, Mallory put her soda bottles and lemons on the counter as well. "Sorry, all I could get. But lemons go in alcohol, right? Or they get stuck on the rims or something, anyway, maybe that's oranges, I'm not a mixer-person."

R.J came back from the bathroom. Alright, ping pong! Ping pong was good. Whacking things and stuff.

"Eh, I'm cool with siding with whoever." Mallory picked up one of the paddles. "But sounds good."
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