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Tuesday, June 29, 2010
#48 bfav (rewritten)
Most things came naturally to Rett Adams and, shoot, he could find trouble faster than most kids could spell it. He fished a small rock out of the grass by the playground. The girl by the monkey bars rubbed her arm while tears slid down her cheeks. He watched the pack of sixth-grade boys huddled on the grass plotting their next victim. It had to stop, but starting something with Cole Williams wasn't like spitting paper wads at Mr. Ector—there were going to be consequences.