As Father Roberts delivered the Confirmation lesson, Jason glared at his shoes on another boy’s feet. The navy and white British Knights bulged on Marcus, a size too small. Jason had never had shoes like the Dymacels. Sickened, imagining the special silicon soles popping beneath the fat bully, he mashed his face between his hands. He didn’t care if he squeezed his heavy-lidded eyes further closed, didn’t care if the taunts came with more zeal: Crack Baby, Crack Baby.