Trading Pencils

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  It all started with a pencil. A freshly sharpened, number 2 pencil. He tosses it back to me. I lean foward trying to keep it from making as much noise as possible. He looks back giving me a slight grin. "Keep it." I hear his voice whispers and i smile back.

  There I was, in the middle of 5th grade and Im already falling in love!

  This is where my story begins. . .

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