The tags made me laugh more than they had any right to.
It was her. It was Miranda Wallbern, the girl who had been my best friend starting in the second grade and going all the way up to seventh. When she had showed up about a third of the way through the school year, Miranda had been the only black girl in my grade. Wyoming isn’t exactly super-diverse, to put it mildly, and it was the first time many of the elementary students had seen anyone like that.
I personally met Miranda after a third grade girl named Terry had tripped me in the lunch line, making me spill my milk all over my shirt. While others laughed, the new girl who had only been there a week and was constantly being stared at took her own milk and threw it in Terry’s face. That had pissed the older girl off, and she had jumped on Miranda, screaming like…
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