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I had already known the answer: it was the same every year. I only asked out of my old habit of prompting people to explain things to me even when I knew the answer. When I was a child, I found that it would make people more likely to want to help me, and it served me just as well as an adult.
They didn’t know beauty, these boys. They saw blurred outlines and thought they knew the picture.
I thought that we had lost some crucial bit of power, not from the act of being judged, but by showing that it meant something to us.