And while we are talking about fourth grade, I am reminded of Maureen McArdle’s neck in front of me in the third row, that smug smarmy neck, gloating and preening at me for nine long months, as day after day, week after week, she bested me in math tests and social-studies projects and science experiments, finishing first in whatever academic contest had been posed to the class by Mrs. O’Malley, who looked like a linebacker with spectacles, and she, Maureen McArdle, owner of that smirking...
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