The curse of the has-her-shit-together girl.

A rare moment in between glasses, braces, and bad bangs. A Bat Mitzvah miracle.

I was a middle school anthropologist. I’d observe the ways of the local youth, puzzled by their culture, feeling utterly removed from and obsessed with their behavior. A constant watcher silently getting straight As and trying to blend into the peeling gray paint on a row of lockers.

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