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I debated about how much to
tell my worry wart mom who'd freak if she knew about the
guys who chased me, yet curiosity and fear bugged the shit out of me. I
took two steps away from her and then spun around to head back. “Is my real name Ben, or is it short for something else?”
“Why you ask?”
“Someone called me, Benito.”
The color drained from Mom's face as her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her shaking fingers. Our
conversation was cut short when the doorbell chimed and was followed by a
loud pounding sound. I stared at the door without moving.
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