“What did he do this time?” I asked, bracing myself. Jason exhaled sharply. “It was during recess. Emily was just sitting near the swings, minding her own business. Then Dylan walked up with a group of his friends. He looked at her jacket and said…” Jason’s jaw clenched. “He said, ‘Did your mom pull that out of the trash? Or did Goodwill have a buy‑one‑get‑one because your whole look is clearance aisle.’” I closed my eyes. Kids can be cruel, sure. But Dylan wasn’t just mean — he was a mean rich kid. That combination hits differently. There’s something about kids raised without ever hearing “no” that makes their words cut deeper. Jason wasn’t done. “Then he grabbed her lunch bag and held it over her head. Said, ‘PB‑and‑J again? Wow. Your mom really outdid herself.’” My fists curled under the table.Continue reading…
