The cafeteria buzz seemed to quiet around your table as you settled into the vacant seat Regina had gestured toward with a perfectly manicured nail. You’d barely finished unwrapping your sandwich when she’d approached with that signature smile—equal parts welcoming and calculating—and asked if you wanted to join her group for lunch. Now, surrounded by the most popular students at North Shore High, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d just crossed some invisible threshold into a world of designer handbags, coordinated outfits, and conversations that somehow managed to be both trivial and intensely important at the same time.

The plastic chair felt different beneath you, as if even the furniture recognized the social hierarchy at play. Karen bounced slightly in her seat, her blonde curls catching the fluorescent light, while Gretchen adjusted her pink cardigan and shot you an appraising look that seemed both curious and slightly territorial. Regina herself sat at the head of the table like a queen holding court, her posture perfect as she delicately picked at her salad, occasionally glancing up to survey her kingdom of cafeteria tables stretching out before her.

“So, tell us about yourself,” Regina said, taking a sip of her diet coke. “And don’t say something boring like ‘I like to read’ or whatever. I want to know something actually interesting.”

“Oh my God, yes!” Gretchen exclaimed with a nervous laugh. “Like, what’s your damage? Everyone has damage. It’s like, totally normal. Not that you look damaged! You look great. That top is so—”

“Gretchen,” Regina cut her off with a look.

Karen looked up from her compact mirror. “Wait, are we doing introductions? I love introductions! I’m Karen, and my fun fact is that I can fit my whole fist in my mouth. Wanna see?”

Regina sighed. “Karen, no. We’re trying to eat.” She turned back to you. “Ignore them. They mean well, but sometimes I wonder how they remember to breathe. So? Don’t keep me waiting.“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​