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Her position enabled her to keep an eye on the clerk, who was restocking the shelves at the end of the aisle. She itched to return to Strange Season, but she didn't dare read it while the clerk was so nearby—and she could never, ever buy it. The clerk was moving so slowly she felt as if she might jump out of her skin.Usually the science fiction rack was her favorite, but today her eyes skipped over the cover illustrations of planets and rocket ships without registering them. She couldn't stop imagining Patrice and Maxine on that couch together. She wanted to know—sheneeded to know—what happened next, but as the minutes ticked past, she realized she wouldn't find out today. She had to go get Frankie from school. She cast one last look at the rack that heldStrange Season, and left.
Excerpted from Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo. Copyright © 2021 by Malinda Lo. Excerpted by permission of Dutton for Young Readers. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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