If you looked closely, in our hands, there was a single Xbox controller — one we held together. But Leo didn’t look closely. In fact, he barely looked at all before he ripped the book away from his cackling friends and shoved it back into my chest. “Look, I don’t know what the hell this is supposed to be, but I don’t want it.” His eyes locked on mine. And what I saw reflected in them tore me to shreds. He knew. He knew it was me. It was written in every feature — the pity in his eyes, his furrowed brows, his rigid stance and heaving chest. And right then and there, I recognized the truth. He
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