Lorne lowers his eyes again, considering his options. Write him a letter, or try to get in touch with one of his friends. Or talk to him face to face, and risk everything just falling apart.
"...I never make friends," he says, apropos nothing, really. Nothing at all. "Why did I have to make friends with him?"
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"...I never make friends," he says, apropos nothing, really. Nothing at all. "Why did I have to make friends with him?"