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... amming, sneakers squeaking against linoleum, the endless chatter of a hundred half-heard conversations. Kent kept his head down, clutching his bag like a shield.

But today, something was different.

As he passed, heads turned. Not all of them—but enough to notice. Two juniors near the water fountain whispered and shot him quick, amused glances. A couple of guys he’d never spoken to nudged each other, grinning. And—God help him—one girl actually smirked at him as he shuffled past. ...

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