He was awkwardly tall for fourteen, all elbows and nervous hands. His blond hair refused to stay combed no matter how hard he tried. He looked like the kind of boy who apologized whenever someone else stepped on his foot.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
“Is that a complaint?”
His face turned bright red instantly.
“No! I mean—no. I just meant…” He swallowed. “You sound like you actually believe the words.”
Nobody had ever said anything like that to me before.
Not teachers.
Not adults.
Not boys.
Especially not boys.
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