and then turned my face to the wall.
After a minute I heard her start unpacking again, and the two of us didnât speak until Agnes knocked on our door and told us to head down to the lounge for orientation.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
The expectant faces of thirty teenage girls turned in my direction.
âMy name is Alice,â I said slowly, âand I like ⦠um, apples.â
âSomeone already said apples,â said the girl sitting across from me.
Everyone giggled.
âOh,â I said. âOkay. Um. My name is Alice and I likeâ¦â
My mind was going blank. I liked eggplant. I liked chocolate. I liked peanut butter. I liked raspberries. Were the any words in existence that began with A besides apple ?
âI likeâ¦â My mouth was dry. I blinked. I swallowed. A wave of laughter made its way around the circle.
âDo you like artichokes?â whispered the girl on my right. I looked at her, surprised. She was tiny, with thick glasses and a smattering of pimples across her nose. She looked about twelve. I exhaled, relieved.
âMy name is Alice and I like artichokes,â I announced to the group.
That was a big lie. I hated artichokes. But I would have said I liked eating dog to get through my turn.
Then it was time for Reena to speak. She was sitting to my left. The two of us had been conscientiously ignoring each other ever since we left our dorm room.
I couldnât believe that my new roommate already hated me. And that I hated her.
But I only hated her because she so obviously hated me.
âMy name is Reena,â Reena said, with enough apathy in her voice to make it clear to everyone that she thought the game was dumb, âand I like radicchio.â
âWhatâs radicchio?â asked the bespectacled girl on my right.
Reena gasped. âYou donât know what radicchio is?â
The girl shrugged.
âItâs like this really, really delicious vegetable that they put in salads.â
âOh,â said the girl with the glasses. âI guess Iâve never had it.â
âWell, they serve it in all the best restaurants.â
âOookay,â said Agnes, who was sitting in the middle of the circle. âI think thatâs everyone. Do you all know each otherâs names now?â
I looked around the circle at the faces of the other girls in my dorm. I couldnât remember any of them. They all looked the same: high ponytail, tank top, flip-flops, and sunglasses on top of their heads. They also all looked way more confident than I felt.
Except for the tiny girl with glasses on my right who didnât know what radicchio was.
She just seemed kind of ⦠pathetic.
âAll right,â yawned Agnes. âWhatâs next?â
She took a piece of paper out of her pocket and inspected it.
âDinnertime,â she announced.
And then, like a dam had broke, everyone rose to their feet and streamed out of the room. I was left sitting on the dirty orange rug all by myself.
Why, I wondered, am I this person? Whatâs wrong with me? Why am I invisible? Why am I the one who never gets swept up in the crowd? And why does my own roommate already think that Iâm totally boring and lame?
Is it because I actually am boring and lame?
Or is it because everyone thinks Iâm goth?
I shakily got to my feet and walked out of the lounge and into the cafeteria.
It was chaos.
My fellow new students had already been absorbed into what seemed like a crowd of hundreds. Everyone was squeezed around a table and talking, or yelling across the room to one another, or standing in line, or circling the salad bar and chatting. I scanned the room for one girl, just one girl, who looked alone and out of place. But everyone had already found someone. Everyone had already found five other someones. Even the tiny girl with glasses and zits was cheerfully conversing with a cafeteria lady.
I stood in the middle of the
After a minute I heard her start unpacking again, and the two of us didnât speak until Agnes knocked on our door and told us to head down to the lounge for orientation.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
The expectant faces of thirty teenage girls turned in my direction.
âMy name is Alice,â I said slowly, âand I like ⦠um, apples.â
âSomeone already said apples,â said the girl sitting across from me.
Everyone giggled.
âOh,â I said. âOkay. Um. My name is Alice and I likeâ¦â
My mind was going blank. I liked eggplant. I liked chocolate. I liked peanut butter. I liked raspberries. Were the any words in existence that began with A besides apple ?
âI likeâ¦â My mouth was dry. I blinked. I swallowed. A wave of laughter made its way around the circle.
âDo you like artichokes?â whispered the girl on my right. I looked at her, surprised. She was tiny, with thick glasses and a smattering of pimples across her nose. She looked about twelve. I exhaled, relieved.
âMy name is Alice and I like artichokes,â I announced to the group.
That was a big lie. I hated artichokes. But I would have said I liked eating dog to get through my turn.
Then it was time for Reena to speak. She was sitting to my left. The two of us had been conscientiously ignoring each other ever since we left our dorm room.
I couldnât believe that my new roommate already hated me. And that I hated her.
But I only hated her because she so obviously hated me.
âMy name is Reena,â Reena said, with enough apathy in her voice to make it clear to everyone that she thought the game was dumb, âand I like radicchio.â
âWhatâs radicchio?â asked the bespectacled girl on my right.
Reena gasped. âYou donât know what radicchio is?â
The girl shrugged.
âItâs like this really, really delicious vegetable that they put in salads.â
âOh,â said the girl with the glasses. âI guess Iâve never had it.â
âWell, they serve it in all the best restaurants.â
âOookay,â said Agnes, who was sitting in the middle of the circle. âI think thatâs everyone. Do you all know each otherâs names now?â
I looked around the circle at the faces of the other girls in my dorm. I couldnât remember any of them. They all looked the same: high ponytail, tank top, flip-flops, and sunglasses on top of their heads. They also all looked way more confident than I felt.
Except for the tiny girl with glasses on my right who didnât know what radicchio was.
She just seemed kind of ⦠pathetic.
âAll right,â yawned Agnes. âWhatâs next?â
She took a piece of paper out of her pocket and inspected it.
âDinnertime,â she announced.
And then, like a dam had broke, everyone rose to their feet and streamed out of the room. I was left sitting on the dirty orange rug all by myself.
Why, I wondered, am I this person? Whatâs wrong with me? Why am I invisible? Why am I the one who never gets swept up in the crowd? And why does my own roommate already think that Iâm totally boring and lame?
Is it because I actually am boring and lame?
Or is it because everyone thinks Iâm goth?
I shakily got to my feet and walked out of the lounge and into the cafeteria.
It was chaos.
My fellow new students had already been absorbed into what seemed like a crowd of hundreds. Everyone was squeezed around a table and talking, or yelling across the room to one another, or standing in line, or circling the salad bar and chatting. I scanned the room for one girl, just one girl, who looked alone and out of place. But everyone had already found someone. Everyone had already found five other someones. Even the tiny girl with glasses and zits was cheerfully conversing with a cafeteria lady.
I stood in the middle of the