The Cost of Fitting In

I want to scream. I need to. There are too many people here and it’s messing with my head. I hardly know anyone here and I hate everyone I do know. I hate Ruby for bringing me here. She went around announcing my existence to everyone. People keep approaching me and starting conversations, but they really can’t take a hint, even though I’m naturally good at making friends. I’ve even pushed away Oscar now because I’m so irritated. Normally, I can manage parties but I’m not in the mood tonight. I went out last night and am still worn out. I hope Ruby regrets setting me up for this when the party’s over. I’m slouching in the corner gripping onto a cheap plastic cup, half-empty with fruit punch that’s too acidic, while I’m constantly checking my phone like my life depends on it. Nothing else matters right now other than the time. My brain is overloading with calculations. Calculating how much time I have left idling in this room of torture, or if I could pull a Houdini. If you know me well enough, you’d figure out that the Houdini is one of my favourite tactics. But I don’t use it as often as you think.  

I don’t fancy missing drama and petty fights – I learned that the hard way. I did it a couple times and missed the major headline at school the following week. I had an emotional breakdown since I didn’t have a clue about it and therefore, nobody would speak to me after. I persevered in getting someone to explain and listening to cafeteria conversations but couldn’t pick up anything. Nobody could be bothered taking a couple minutes out to tell me the story, so I constantly got ignored. I couldn’t even make commentary or get a word in at all. All the information I had (if any) wasn’t enough to piece together the story. Someone mentioned it earlier this week, so I told Beth what I heard. I was confused why she just stared at me with a straight face the whole time. I finished my lecture and we stood in silence for a second. It immediately got awkward. 

She responded in a monotone, “Katie, you know that was last year?” Humiliation at its finest. Goddamn, Beth, that was harsh! My confidence was knocked after that when I thought I was already deprived enough of my self-esteem. 

“Right, yeah, sorry.” I literally hid my embarrassment under my jumper. My red, blushing face was shielded underneath the cotton layers like a turtle inside its shell. At that point, I wished I had just stuck around the whole time. My excuse for leaving so early was that I was tired.  

What my peers don’t realise is how exhausting my social life is - and don’t get me wrong, I do love all my friends, but sometimes I just wish I could have some time for myself. I hear stories all the time about people getting to chill up on the sofa and watch Netflix with popcorn or curl up in bed with pizza. Snoozing on the weekends without a care in the world. I only wish I could be one of them. Instead, my weekends are filled with being surrounded by friends, going out shopping and dining, travelling around town, doing various activities I never thought I’d do, staying out until after dark. Which obviously means lots of walking. It’s fun for a while but when your calendar is so packed like mine, you just wish you were an introvert. However, I hated being an introvert which is how I ended up here. Now all my energy is going towards keeping the extrovert mask on. The only one who understands is Alex. He’s been by my side since we were 5. I met him on the first day of school, when I was a loner because I refused to speak to anyone. He didn’t have a clue what was wrong with me then, but he never gave up in getting to know me. I was the one giving in at that point and I just had to start talking to him. Our friendship grew from there – he was the only other kid who would play with me during breaktime. What would I have done otherwise? Probably wander around. Play on the play equipment by myself. Lay on the grass watching the sun and look stupid doing it. Sit in a corner watching everyone else play. 

Which is what I’m still doing now, except I’m at a party watching everyone else gossip about trivial matters. Like when you have extended family over whom you haven’t seen for ages, and they want a catch-up on everything that’s happened to you since you last saw them. Not the case here – everyone in here sees each other every day. Some of them at school, others at the skate park down the road from the corner shop or the football pitch at the other end of the neighbourhood. Sometimes, I go down skateboarding with Ruby or watching Alex and Oscar playing a round of footie with the other boys – that is, if I have the energy to pull through. The boys in these teams are interchangeable, and so are the friends I hang out with. I wouldn’t mind hanging out with my whole friend group at once every now and then but some of them have beef with each other and others have contrasting schedules, so it doesn’t work out. I think most of them managed to clear their schedules for tonight. The one time where I get something I’ve always wanted; I’ve ruined it for myself. I’ll just stare down into my hollow cup pensively for the next couple of hours or so and take swigs of my juice every now and then. Since I’ve already screwed up and let my vulnerable side take centre stage, I’ll just be the wallflower this time round. At least I can be here to see how tipsy everyone is or the fights bubbling under the surface. Only an hour left. My legs are wearing out, even as I lean against the wall, but I won’t sit down. The view’s intriguing up here. All I can do now is hope that this will all be worth it in the end. 

It’s 3am and everyone’s gone home drunk as hell. That includes me, but only a little bit from the two cups of fruit punch which isn’t strongly-alcoholic anyway if I’m honest - enough that I could drive home if I had a car and driving license. I don’t think I would drink that again. I flop down on my bouncy mattress, looking forward to 5 hours of sleep. My phone rings and who is it? Ruby, of course. Clearly, she hasn’t had enough. She can never get enough. I decline the call because I’m too weary to talk anymore. And she’s decided to text me instead. Must be urgent. 

Are you at home? 

Great. Oh, don’t tell me she wants to come over. I’ve had enough of people today. 

Uh no. 

Time to summon my bag of lies. I don’t think I’ll be speaking to her (or anyone) for the next 24 hours after what I’ve been through tonight. 

Are you sure? 

Not really, I just don’t want to see you right now. 

Yeah, I’m sure. 

What are you doing then? 

I don’t know, what am I doing? Or rather, what would I be doing if I wasn’t at home? 

Waiting for my McDonald’s. I’m hungry.  

False. I currently have no appetite, now let me sleep. 

COME MEET US OUTSIDE 

Are you there? 

ALMOST 

Well, because I’m not. 

Okay, see you in a minute. 

WE CAN’T SEE YOU, KATIE 

I’m fed up with telling any more lies. 

Got my food, on my way home now. Meet me there at lunch tomorrow. xx 

My phone beeps again and I’ve decided to ignore it from now on until I can be bothered replying. I check my phone one last time so I can think of a reply for when I wake up.  

Are you coming back to Ammy’s house next week? 

I'll give my definitive answer later. I might be putting myself through the vicious cycle and worsening my social fatigue even more, but I don’t mind. I wouldn’t want to miss this one. Social gatherings overwhelm me with anxiety as soon as I step in, but the minute I leave, I’m desperate to go back for more. As soon as I cut myself off from the chaos, the withdrawal symptoms kick in. When I’ve built an endless social network like this, I know it’ll be worth my energy and sleep-deprivation in the end. When I know everybody like my family. 

Because that, ladies and gentlemen, is the cost of fitting in.