Tuesday, November 16, 2010

I am not a good person 2

During the summers before eighth and ninth grade, I attended what we affectionately called "nerd camp." It was a three-week camp of intensive college-level courses, with class in the morning, afternoon, and evening, 3000 miles away from home (for me). It was an amazing experience that changed my life for the better.

For lodging, we were placed in dormitory rooms with someone from our class. My roommate the second time around, Meg, was noticeably different from the rest of us. She was fat when no one else was, clingy, and very much lacking in social skills; I asked everyone to write in and sign a little notebook I'd bought--you know--yearbook-type messages, and she wrote "I'm sorry, I really can't think of anything to say..." People were friendly at first but gave up and moved on very quickly.

One day in class, the professor asked us to pair up. It was something like--she would point to a person, and someone else would volunteer to pair up with said person. When she pointed to Meg, no one raised their hand or spoke up. The professor then asked her who she'd prefer to be her partner, but Meg remained silent and shifted in her chair. It was awkward. The whole time I was hoping that she wouldn't choose me. I was stuck with her all the time! This time I wanted to work with someone cool!

I took a quick glance at a boy I liked, and it was clear that he didn't want to be her partner either. This made it okay for me to do this horrible thing:

The professor, not wanting to waste time, asked Meg who her roommate was. It was an easy way to solve the problem. Immediately, the other voices piped up. Me, me, the roommate was me, of course. Meg looked relieved, and I scrunched up my face--an ugh face--short and gone from my face in less than a second, but a clear message to anyone looking at me, which was everyone. I am sure Meg saw it too.

*her real name is not Meg, but it doesn't really matter.

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