It felt good to sit at the long table with all the other girls. I’d never felt accepted by other kids at school before. At my last school, I was one of a handful of kids that weren’t Mormon, and they didn’t play with non-Mormons, but they weren’t mean to me.

At the next table there was a boy named Tracey eating alone. He was tall with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He had a speech impediment that made him sound like he was from Boston, but I didn’t know what people from Boston sounded like when I was a fifth grader. I just thought he sounded foreign, thus cool.

“Babytalker . . . say something . . . Ohhh too dumb to talk.” One of the girls from my table was picking on him. He made himself look smaller. I giggled. There was a roar of laughter raising from the girls all around me.

“Goo-Goo-Ga-Ga . . . Do you un stan me now? . . . I we taud did . . . DUH.” Loud laughter followed this taunt. I felt guilty for giggling after the first insult. I wanted to fit in, but I didn’t. I was silent and uncomfortable, this had gone too far. I lowered my head and made myself smaller too.

“Where did you get your clothes?” another girl joined the fun “. . . from the garbage can behind the Goodwill.” More laughter snarled around me. I liked the way he dressed, with a plaid shirt.

I picked up my tray and joined Tracey. He looked up at me.

There was a long silence.

“Oh, he’s got a girlfriend.” The laughter was louder than ever, but I didn’t hear another word from their table. We weathered the storm together.

I got picked on for having a boyfriend so much that I quit hanging out with Tracey. I never had friends outside of the pariah class again, but I don’t regret sitting with Tracey.

Twenty years after graduation, the same girls act the same way they did back then. I had better friends.