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I’m not sure why people want you to look at them when they’re angry with you. That’s when you want to look away the most.
Instead she said no one is evil, only unhappy, and unhappiness festers inside like a sore.
I realized that kindergartners were a lot like manic-depressives, vacillating between euphoria and despair with terrifying speed.
Why would anyone want to spend their day inside a box?
“Guys don’t shave their legs. Except swimmers, because it’s supposed to make them faster—which I don’t get, because how much can leg hair slow you down? But no, it’s just something girls do.” “But why just girls?” “Because,” Charlie says, “no one’s gonna go out with a girl with hairy legs and pits—Wait a minute!” He grabs my sleeve. “Does this mean you shave your pits?”
A girl turns onto our hall, eyes red and sad, and as she passes, Adam sends her a smile. Her whole face brightens and she sends him a smile back. Hate ricochets, but kindness does too.
“Because people heal a whole lot faster when they’re with someone who loves them.”

