I want to be like Ursula [Discontinued]

2 - Fit-In

Juniper Vale

"ChatGPT, define 'fit in,'" I muttered, spinning around in my swivel chair as I scrolled through my Instagram feed, searching aimlessly. My mind was preoccupied with Angel's words from recess.

"Why would you bother being nice to her when you don't really like her? She knows she doesn't fit in with us and our circle," Angel had said while hooking her bag onto the back of her chair. I had been talking to Angel's friends, who were sitting in a group about three feet away. I admired their new phone cases adorned with corals and pearl beads, some even featuring mermaid tails painted in acrylic. I had approached them to compliment their cases, thinking they were fantastic. Who wouldn't want to be like them? But I could hear Linda's voice in my head, dismissing that idea. Angel's remark had silenced me.

I was aware that I didn't exactly "fit in" with their group, but hearing Angel put it so bluntly stung. I let out a long groan, stopping my restless spinning, and turned back to my laptop to look up the definition.

"'Fit in' refers to adapting or conforming to a group, environment, or set of expectations so that one is accepted as part of that group. It involves blending in with social norms, behaviors, values, and practices. This applies to various contexts, including social situations, workplaces, schools, and other groups where a sense of belonging is established."

"Well, she's mistaken then. I do fit in at school and in other social situations," I said, leaning back with my hands on my stomach, reminiscing about the worst social situations I had endured.

"Seriously, Jun? Are you going to talk about mermaids now?" Glen, my classmate and Linda's lab partner since Grade 8, interjected. We had met during a casual program hosted by another school. Glen and Linda had a close relationship, which sometimes seemed more than just friendship, but Linda had made it clear that it was purely platonic. Glen's eyes, however, hinted at something else, but it wasn't my place to meddle.

I frowned at the thought and let out a sigh. I remembered the nickname they had given me—"Manatee of Jupiter." Even though it had been two years since Grade 10, my face still flushed with embarrassment. I was accustomed to names like "Fatty," "Elephant," or "Nerd," but "Manatee of Jupiter" was a new, inventive, and hurtful twist. They had even twisted my name from Juniper to Jupiter.

Trying to regain my composure, I found myself overwhelmed by intrusive thoughts. I rushed to the mirror and faced my reflection. My neck was barely visible, and I looked down at my belly, touching it with my large, flabby hands before gazing at my reflection once more. What would Linda say about this? "Grotesque." "Yeah, grotesque. Look at you, Juniper. Instead of looking dashing and gorgeous, you look grotesque." I muttered to myself, pinching my skin in self-loathing before collapsing onto my bed. The familiar teenage refrain: "I hate my life."

Well, I should show them that I do fit-in in their circle. "Just you wait and see, Angel!"