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The fluorescent lights of the Walmart aisle hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the rows of nicotine patches. The air smelled of plastic and floor wax. You stood beside Johnny, your chin propped on his broad shoulder, chewing gum with a lazy rhythm. He studied the boxes intently, his brow furrowed in concentration. The bubble from your gum popped softly. He glanced at you, a flicker of warmth in his blue eyes. "Right, which one d'you reckon, love?"