’ Then memory hit and he stared at his friend. “Why not?” he exclaimed. “Shut up, you little faggot. Marry me. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. Her knees shook, her breath came fast, she almost felt the lurid effect of those tiny patches of rouge upon her pallor-stricken cheeks. 1.
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