And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. ’ She tried to shake his hands off her wrists, but Gerald held them fast and tutted at her. 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.
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