7 Hers: “You look tired,” Jenny says at school. “I’m fine.” I shrug your sweater off my shoulders. I’m always fine. “Don’t lie,” she whispers. “I’m not.” I smile. I’m always smiling. “It’ll be okay.” She hugs me. “I know,” I lie. I’m always lying. I think about the days we couldn’t make it through class without sneaking out to devour each other in the stairwell. Where did we go wrong?
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