I remember riding bikes with another girl in my neighborhood. We were in the third grade, and were going really fast when she crashed her bike somehow along the curb. Something white was coming out of her knee, and she was crying hard. I helped her hobble up to her family's front door, hopping on one leg, her arm slung over my shoulders, and then, instead of just going in, I rang the bell. Her mother came to the door, and looked puzzled, then looked down at her daughter's leg and screamed. She scooped her daughter up, and slammed the door in my face.
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Reach out.
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