He was the kind of kid whose nose was always running. His clothes were spotted and wrinkled and you got the impression that whoever was at home didn’t really care one way or the other. His ears could break your heart- they were perfect awkward satellites, standing at odds with uncombed shocks of blonde hair, so pale that you could count the tiny violet veins. Despite all outward appearances, he wasn’t lacking any kind of self-confidence. Teachers were always sending home notes admonishing his womanizing ways- chasing the girls on the playground, sneaking kisses behind the swings.