“I spaced, ’cause I had this test in AP Bio and I was running drills in my head, and when the bell rang, all I could think about was aerobic cellular respiration, and, well. Sorry.” Amber is an energy force, chattering at full speed. She seems genuinely apologetic, too. So…not the bitchy type?

“How’d it go?” Bronte asks.

Amber wilts. “I probably failed.”

Bronte rolls her eyes, but her tone remains warm. “You fucking didn’t.” She kisses her on the cheek and gives her hand a squeeze.

Fuck. I called Bronte’s girlfriend Regina George. How am I sitting here? I wait for the other penny to drop, for the whole table to turn on me, dump their trays over my head for a laugh. It doesn’t happen. We go around the table and everyone introduces themselves in a completely normal and friendly way.

The jock is Luke; the swim-and-dive team keeps him lean. Preppy Natalie, who either won the genetic lottery or got a blowout before school, is Associated Student Body president, regional mock-trial champion—and daughter of the mayor, to boot. She tosses her glossy dark curls over her shoulder and intros Morgan, on her left.

“We’re in drama together, and she does swim team with Luke,” Natalie says, as if the only relevant details about her friend are in relation to other, more important people. Morgan is a facsimile of Natalie but blond, though her curls are uneven and limp, her peasant top a cheap fast-fashion knockoff. Both sport glossy pink lips and a subtle winged eyeliner.

“I heard you’re ARMY,” Morgan says. “You should join the K-pop club. I started it sophomore year.”

Natalie sneers, but she hides her expression behind a pleasant mask when she catches me looking. I guess I won’t be discussing my K-pop biases with her. But Morgan seems cool.

Finally, Amber and Bronte round it out with their own laundry lists of extracurriculars and accomplishments. Amber is the master of wordage, spoken and written—she’s captain of the debate team, a Scholastic Gold Key Award–winning poet who runs the lit mag, and editor of the yearbook. Bronte is a Renaissance woman straddling all groups. She does theater tech and Girls Who Code, runs cross-country, is the senior ASB treasurer, and works on the yearbook with Amber. And all the girls are cheerleaders, except for Amber. Guess I had her pegged all wrong in every way possible.

I marvel, sitting amid the social giants of Seaview High. They ask me questions about my former life with pointed interest. Where did I live in LA? What are my favorite video games? What did I do on yearbook? A huge weight lifts off my shoulders. I just might be all right here.