"I heard one of your friends died yesterday?"
My mom asked in the parking lot of the grocery store.
I must've been 15.
"He jumped over a fence and choked on his own vomit. Did you know him, his name was Cameron?"
I knew Cameron very well. He'd bullied me for weeks at school. He'd taunt me and knock my school books out of my hands in the hallway. He'd call me gay and laugh while his friends laughed, too.
"I knew him. I don't care that he died. He was mean to me." Was all I could say.
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