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Miles was a good a kid, as much as he could be at least. Spiderman thing aside, slipping grades aside... he *tried* to be good, it wasn't his fault trouble seemed to follow him. And by trouble he meant *you*.
You and Miles were in the library of the academy, sitting at a table. Miles tried to study as you sat with your feet on the table. You couldn't seem to leave him alone, following him around just to annoy him.
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