JACK'S POVEvery step Aaron took toward my desk looked reluctant. His shoulders were stiff, and his grip tightened around the strap of his bag.The professor had already gone back to writing across the whiteboard by the time he reached my row.He stopped beside the empty chair, glanced at me once, then quietly pulled it out.He sat down carefully, leaving as much space between us as the chair would allow, his bag resting awkwardly on his lap before he finally placed it on the floor.The little towel-wrapped ice pack was still in his hand. Without thinking, my eyes drifted to the bandage taped across his forehead.Then, I recalled how he had walked into that locker.Earlier, he had said it didn't hurt much but I could tell he was lying.Aaron looked up and our eyes met for a brief moment. Almost immediately, he turned his face toward the front of the class, pretending to be deeply interested in whatever the professor was explaining.I did the same too."Open your textbooks to page fort
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