You’d think making friends at a new school would be harder than this, especially in a place like Los Angeles. But, in a timeframe slightly less than two months, Jane Foster had the amazing fortune (or misfortune depending on your view of things) of being befriended by Jessica Harper, Sara Slater and Claire McKlein. Luckily for Jane, it didn’t really take much effort on her part to make this all come together. The first day of her sophomore year was terrifying, but she masked that all with a dash of bullshit confidence and by laughing at any and every joke that was offered to her. Most of the time, Jane couldn’t grasp the pun in such jokes, but that didn’t matter. She would smile and laugh until her cheeks hurt if that meant starting fresh and actually accumulating friends. Despite efforts to genuinely fit in, Jane had learned in a matter of weeks that she probably would never feel completely normal around Jessica, Sara and Claire. It was way too easy to fade in the background from each vapid conversation that came to fruition at their "designated" table in the cafeteria.
As routine would have it during lunch, Sara would usually talk about football and the guys who played on that team. Nevermind that the sport was totally named the wrong thing, Jane could care less about Greg, the quarterback. Not that she was really even certain what a quarterback was. For as much as she could see, Greg was pretty stupid and had awful acne. While his aptitude in athleticism was quite admirable, that’s as far as his appeal would ever go. As time wore on and Jane got more comfortable, she'd always come to that familiar table with books to keep her company. If she wasn't going to contribute to the daily conversation, then she might as well get some good reading done. The Bell Jar, White Oleander, The Muse Asylum. However, there was one day in particular where Jane was feeling extra gutsy. The day she brought in Watchmen to the lunch table was really the day she unknowingly liberated herself from her most superficial, social entanglement to date. The graphic novel was tucked under her arm while Jane shamelessly piled on as much food as she possibly could on her tray. Sitting down right next to Claire, Jane would waste no time in opening Alan Moore's masterpiece of graphic-novel-perfection and ignore most of the bantering that kept the rest of her friends occupied. There were looks, sure. She wasn't sticking to the side salad and Diet Coke unspoken rule at all. Instead, Jane was practically stuffing her face with this awesome concoction that looked like fried potatoes, but she really couldn't think of what the real word for it was. At least, what they called it in America.
"You should go easy on the tater tots."
"Claire, you can go back to your cucumber now. I happen to be starving."
"Well, you certainly don't look like your starving."
Was that really a bad thing? Claire's last remark was all it really took. Just one bad jeer, an insult that gave her an excuse to walk away and sit elsewhere, some validation that maybe she wasn't giving her "friends" a real chance. They had all known each other for years, and Jane didn't have that to share with them. It had dawned on her finally that she didn't want that with them either. It would be more convenient to whine and complain that the choices available for social interaction looked quite dim at this school, but Jane hadn't really looked that hard. She jumped on what looked like the most appealing offer, an offer that was quick to reveal itself. Now she was regretful, wanting to kick herself for ever going that route to begin with. What Jane should have done was try to talk to someone like Mallory Williams. They were locker neighbors and had a brief nerd riot over Jane's copy of Watchmen earlier in the morning. Of course, Claire had wrecked their amazing moment of bliss as soon as she waltzed into the hallway. Sitting in her seat with the stuffiest bitches in tenth grade, Jane finally had the much needed epiphany that she was free to do whatever she wanted. She was free to get up from her seat with her tray full of tater tots and go find Mallory, wherever she was. It was almost surprising to find her in the back corner, sitting alone and reading through some US History book. Instead of being nervous at the idea of initiating conversation, Jane made herself comfortable and dove right into it.
"Hey, Mallory. Can I sit with you?"
"Looks like you already did."
"Wanna read Rorschach's awesomely random inner-monologues with me?"
"Sure, but why aren't you sitting with your brat friends?"
"They're evil. They're evil because they are miserable ... and hungry."
"You're telling me."
"And they wouldn't let me eat my tatertots in peace."
"Now that's just cruel."
"Right? I had to liberate myself."
"Think it'll be worth it?"
"Definitely. I can already tell."