The first-year weekend retreat is the last big event of the year. I’m stoked for more manufactured vulnerability and connecting. I see how these kinds of functions can be addicting. Gabby and Keli are not going, opting instead to focus on the upcoming final exams. I feel confident in my classes, otherwise I would also skip the retreat. I don’t know if Earnell is going since he’s still not talking to me, or even Gabby and Keli now.

“I walked right up to him,” Keli says, “stood in his face, and said, ‘Talk to me, Earnell Jackson. This is ridiculous.’ He grabbed his tray and went right around me as if I wasn’t even there. You broke that boy’s heart. More than that, his spirit.”

I can’t be blamed for Earnell’s despair. I know from my own experience: The wound of not feeling good enough was already there. Others can only prick what already lurks inside. Maybe that’s why self-love is so important? Then no matter what happens to you, there is an inexhaustible well of contentment inside, like how I felt after meeting my higher self. The fountain of life is within you. I remember Professor Nielson’s wise message while packing the last of my items into a duffel bag.

Manda Panda says she wouldn’t be caught dead doing an activity that is an “obvious attempt to force us to bond.” She also didn’t go on the hiking trip. I don’t know if Alex is going. I hope he isn’t.

When I arrive at the meeting spot, I expect to see hundreds of people, but there are only two buses for all of us, which means about sixty (out of one thousand) students are attending. Having it right before finals, which are a week and a half away, is not appealing for most. If they had it after exams, they’d still lose since students start leaving campus right after they finish. I guess there’s no optimal time for end-of-year bonding.

I suddenly feel nervous. This is the first time I’m going on a class-wide event without knowing anyone. Freddy is not here to ward off potential murderous racists. Keli, Gabby, and Earnell are not here to keep me laughing. I look around the bus at all the unfamiliar white faces. I hope they accept me, I think to myself. I remember my earlier thoughts on self-love and change my mind. It doesn’t matter what they think of me. I accept me. Well, parts of me. Most of me. Close enough, I guess. Progress, not perfection. The Defiance applauds my growth. Bitch, you betta werk. Stunt on your haters.