I didn't thought my drawings were special, they were just lines covering a sheet, shapes and shades between my papers that came off of my right hand every time there was a pencil close to me.
I didn't even drew trying to impress or thrill anyone, they were just drawings. I never thought about the tiny possibility of them keeping all of my secrets.
Before it all began I was completely able to affirm that drawings, specifically mine, could not be read.
I was absolutely wrong.
Elliot Jensen and Elliot Fintry have a lot in common. They share the same name, the same house, the same school, oh and they hate each other but, as they will quickly learn, there is a fine line between love and hate.