In addition to somehow having a preference for Annie over Anne, Harras also seemed to like blowing her whistle a lot for no reason. Like three tweets for every lap? Why? I tried to zone out and focus in on my lesson and jog, something I hadn’t done since my last gym class a few months earlier, because who jogs?

According to Berry, Greenville is made up of two groups of people.

“Okay, so.” Berry looked around. “Possibly this is weird to talk about, like, categorizing people and stuff. I mean, I think it’s weird.”

“Acknowledging before you begin that many categories of people are subjective,” I noted. “And imposed. And likely oppressive. Yes.”

“Right! Yeah, okay, so there’s people who have been here since what they would say is the beginning. They’re, like, the locals.” Berry rounded the turn, her hands balled into fists as she ran, in the boots I thought she would have changed out of. “I mean,” she added, “obviously, like, everyone in the United States came here from another country unless you are Indigenous or Native American.”

I pointed at Berry, pleased because American history and the history of what actually happened in America is sometimes a thing I think only my moms and I talk about. “Yes. That is TRUE.”

“And then there are the newcomers,” Berry said, “which is everyone else in Greenville, even if your family has been here for fifty years.”

“And the locals are the people who determine the newcomers,” I assumed.

“Oh. Yeah.” Berry took a gulp of air. Her cheeks were apple red. “But, you know, sometimes it’s the newcomers who call themselves newcomers, too.”

“So, I am definitely a newcomer,” I said.

“I mean, oh yeah, you definitely are, but, like, I am, too,” Berry pointed at herself. “I mean, everyone here is always like, Your family is Polish. Right? Even though we’ve been here for like two generations. In Greenville years that’s like five minutes.”

“Yikes,” I said, because it seemed the most appropriate response. Or the shortest. But also, wow. Like super prejudicial and problematic?

“Super yikes.” Berry nodded, stopping to tie her laces, which were thick with paint. “But that’s how it is here.”

I looked around at all the kids all bundled in groups. “What about Tanner?” I asked. “I’m assuming he’s local.”

Berry looked over her shoulder. “Tanner and crew? They call themselves the Forev ers.”

Tanner and the boys from his crew weren’t around (since gym in Greenville adhered to the archaic definitions of the gender binary) but the two girls from his crew were standing with a few other blonds in the center of the track, stretching.