##Chapter 69: CassidyBook Two: Don't Leave"Are you going to tell me what's wrong? You've been all mopey since you came back from the library," Brooklyn asks as we sit in the bleachers, waiting for the game to get under way.Unable to stand the way she continues to eyeball me, I mutter, "No." I keep my gaze trained on the Zamboni as it slowly sweeps water over the ice to smooth out all the rough patches while my mind tumbles back to the ride home with Cole.None of this would be happening if I'd found my own table to work at. I wouldn't be sitting here in the stands with a pit the size of Texas at the bottom of my belly, feeling as if Cole and I are on the precipice of something terrible.Brooklyn refuses to take the hint. "No, there's nothing wrong? Or no, you're going to keep it all to yourself and not tell me what's going on?""I'll go with what's behind door number two, please."Before she can respond, the Zamboni disappears into a garage-type door at the far end of the rink,
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