| It's amazing how past insecurities can still stalk a person. It's been years since I've felt this way, since I didn't want to be me.
We are forming lab groups in Physics, and suddenly I've somehow become that insecure, unbearably shy elementary schooler who's always been on the fringe of the clique--too sensible, too bashful, too un-caucasion to be invited to parties and yet, too "white" to participate in all the other activities all the Asian kids seemingly do--to really fit in anywhere. I'm the awkward, inbetween girl, accepted by all, yet closed off from the inner sanctums of those blatant but elusive collectives otherwise labeled as Groups of Close Friends. (School friends, I mean. Don't be upset. I do love all of you others--you know who you are. You never ostracized me, purposely anyway although it always frustrated me to no end that I never knew who you were talking about when conversations were monopolized by CYC, not that it was anyone's fault. )
It happens fairly quickly, before I even realize that something has gone horribly wrong. In fact, it doesn't even make sense. I'm in a prime location; my friends are coming towards me. And then, right then, that moment, when they join up in a group of four, and Lauren tells me, "Go join Corey's group," I realize that I've just been shoved aside and discarded, exactly how I spent the first twelve years of life on this cruel, twisted little planet.
Ever-sweet Corey, not wanting to offend anyone, being so fair, "Well, you and she came up at the same time... I don't know what to do." I smile, reassure him it's okay, then continue onward.
It's too late for me anyway. I'm already in that no-man's land where all the people who haven't been chosen, my fellow castaways, stand around in an uncomfortable circle deciding how to best pair off. By now the rising panic has subsided, replaced by resignation and not a little resentment.
I hiss to Lauren and Jeffrey, "If I don't get good grades, I am going to kill you all." Dramatic, but it conveys an accurate sentiment. Lauren, slightly pleading, "I don't know how it happened! At least Annabelle's smart."
Annabelle, so that's her name. Good to know because she seems to know me even if I've never said one word to her before, but even as I am processing that information, I want to yell at her, "You left me out! That's what happened!"
Tears threaten to fall as I realize that some things just never change, and all I can do is put my fingers up to my head, forming a gun and making a shooting gesture as Blaine shoots me looks of pity and Ryan mouthes what suspiciously looks like, "Okay," in response. Thanks, guys.
I'm probably radiating frustration because Dylan lifts a questioning eyebrow at me sometime far into the class period and Lena gives me a sad puppy look (as my pitiful little group is still trying to turn on the interface while everyone else is well into the experiment).
I think that it would be most convenient if I could just melt into the ground. |