He bit his lip to suppress a laugh. The sound was off, thank god. Around him, the class was a symphony of fake productivity: keystrokes, the occasional cough, the rustle of a textbook. But Leo knew. He was not alone.
It was the most alive he had felt all day.
Leo’s friend Marcus had sent him a single message in their shared, untitled Google Chat: yo. i found it.
Leo’s mind went blank. “Uh. Chicago?”