![]() ![]() ![]() This 900,000 square foot monument to consumerism was Pineville, New Jersey’s, de facto downtown. The Parkway Center Mall was home to 105 specialty shops, three department stores, and two movie screens. “Not now, Cassandra,” Troy said without slowing down. I got a mouthful of earlobe instead of lips. ![]() I angled for a kiss as Troy turned his head to check his watch. I was barely keeping it together on the short walk from the parking lot to our jobs at the food court. Troy and I absolutely needed to have sex. By the end of my confinement, I’d come to a course-altering conclusion: Luckily for him, I’d spent that time at home alone convalescing and contemplating the state of our relationship. We had gone from seeing each other every day to not at all, and I could tell Troy was a bit discomfited by the space forcibly put between us. After six weeks of quarantine, I was finally reunited with my boyfriend, Troy. It was by far the best mood I’d been in since the night in late May when I’d landed in the ER with a teeth-chattering, bone-rattling case of mono. Less than five minutes into my triumphant return to the mall, I was targeted for assassination by a rabid spritzer from Bath & Body Works.īefore the ambush, I was as happy as anyone making minimum wage could possibly be. ![]()
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