It felt good to sit at the long table with all the other girls. I’d never felt accepted by other kids at school before. At my last school, I was one of a handful of kids that weren’t Mormon, and they didn’t play with non-Mormons, but they weren’t mean to me. At the next table there was a boy named Tracey eating alone. He was tall with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He had a speech impediment that made him sound like he wa...