PREVIEW

... I was at the YMPA. The only place that he and I could privately speak—assuming they’re not spying on me—was school or at Greg’s house.

I immediately ran towards Greg, in which he noticed my footsteps very quickly.

“You’re running like something’s wrong?” he said, looking at me with concern.

“That’s because something is,” I said, looking at him. He sighed. “What?” he shot at me, his eyes widened with fear.

“Listen, okay? Remember when you called me yesterday?”

...

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