When I remember Betsy Quironez I skip over things. Like how everyone at Tuscaloosa High used to rub their forefingers over their noses to mimic the way she adjusted those horn-rims that just wouldn't sit square on her. Or how they laughed at Betsy's squall of hair; home-cut, everyone knew. Betsy deserved better than the rumor that her family was so poor she shared a bed with her mom. It
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