

"Nice to meet you." Georgia
"Yeah, um, I've seen you around. You go to my school." Beagle
"You go to Lincoln?" Georgia
"No, no I work there in the cafeteria. I make your lunch." Beagle
"If you want to call it lunch." Georgia
"Yeah, well, school food gets a bad rep I guess." Beagle

"So what's wrong with you anyway?" Beagle
"I have Frederick's Ataxia. It's a neuromuscular disease." Georgia
"Is that why you talk kind of like you're drunk?" Beagle
"I do?" Georgia
"I mean, um, you, it, just slurred a little..." Beagle
"No, I get it all the time." Georgia
"I just didn't know. I didn't know anything about it. I didn't mean to offend you." Beagle
"No, you didn't. It's a genetic disorder of some kind." Georgia
"Are you gonna get better?" Beagle
"No, this is pretty much as good as it's gonna get until my heart gives out. I don't know when that's going to be." Georgia
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