He had a small bag he'd packed from home, neatly tucked by his side. Inside were various snacks, carefully arranged as if each one had its own little place. I didn’t picture Justin as someone who ate snacks often, and even when he bought them, I would catch myself imagining what it would look like to see him actually enjoy them. There was something strangely captivating about that thought, though I would never admit it aloud.I pretended not to notice him working his way through the bag. He pulled out a pack of crackers and, with that faint, hesitant smile he always wore, offered them to me.I wanted to take them—oh, how I wanted to—but my mood was too sour, too prickly to let myself accept anything from him. So, I quietly ignored him, acting as if he hadn’t done anything at all.“Is that crackers?” Monica whispered from behind, craning her neck to peek above our seat.“Yes,” Justin replied softly.“Wow… I love crackers!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “I can’t remember the last tim
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