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I haven’t spoken to Masen in almost two days. Not since Wednesday night

in the library, and now it’s Friday afternoon, and he wasn’t in our first class

today again. How does he just come and go like it’s no big deal? Has he

even turned in any work? I’ve never seen him with books, and I’m tempted

to go to the Cove and check on him. Is he even still there?

I don’t know why I care. He’s constantly getting in my face, I know

next to nothing about him, and he’s dangerous for me. I’m not looking to

break the mold when the year’s almost over. I’ve come this far, and I don’t

want any drama. He should stay away.

But I find myself looking for him. In class. In the cafeteria. In the

parking lot. Even when I go home, this small hope lights up that he’ll

ambush me in my room just like that first day last week.

I want to be alone with him again. Those few stolen moments—the car,

the lab, the library—they’re like my letters from Misha. Something to look

forward to.

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