Spring 1988. 4th period Social Studies class. Grade 8.
I sit in the back row in class, and am asked to bring all of the papers forward, as is every student at the back of each row. As I am walking, a boy in my class smugly reaches out and squeezes my butt. Hard. Very hard – I had a dark burgundy/indigo bruise for two weeks after this happened. Being suddenly and unexpectedly hurt, I turned around and punched him in the face. I remember the papers fluttering to the floor around me, and the completely stunned look on the kid’s face as he was laying on the floor. Our teacher was an amazing guy, and he was not upset with me, because he felt the kid who grabbed me had been out of line. I thought it was over with.
The next morning, I get called down to the…
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