Fourth grade crushes are nightmares, aren’t they? You were probably the geekiest kid in the class, you with your button-down buttoned all the way up, and your glasses. You had the misfortune to pal around with probably the smoothest kid in the class, the one I had glimmerings of interest in. And you had the misfortune to declare your undying like for the tallest girl in the class. We had to do something about this. The notes had to stop, slipped into my desk at odd moments. So we filled our purses with rocks and agreed to meet you outside.
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