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“YOU’RE QUIET,” GAVIN SAID to Zach, after dinner one night in July, just after Independence Day weekend. They’d stayed in Michigan for the holiday, heading to the little town near the lake and enjoying the annual parade, the picnic, the late-night fireworks.

Zach sighed. He’d wondered if Gavin would say anything. He supposed he should have said something himself, before Gavin had to point it out, but he hadn’t known what to say. How to even say it. Hadn’t even known if it was all just in his own head, anyway.