metro card//MGG

7

when I was eleven, I had a friend named Elaine. Elaine's parents owned a nightclub downtown and, consequently, were incredibly wealthy. like, owned-a-rec-room-full-of-arcade-games-and-La-Z-Boys wealthy. they also had an enormous pool in her backyard, where she would host small parties for some of the girls.

getting an invite to one of her pool parties meant you were elite. and at the beginning of sixth grade, I got one. it was like there was champagne in my veins when Elaine whispered the details in the lunch line. it would just be about three other girls and us. I felt like I was part of a secret club. I'd never been unpopular or anything, but there was something uniquely delightful about being included that I wanted to feel for the rest of my life.

when I got to Elaine's house that warm, sunny Saturday, the girls were laying on towels with bottles of nail polish between them. they painted their toes and gossiped, and squealed with excitement when I settled down between Lizzy and Darlene. Elaine painted my nails a hot pink that I didn't much like but didn't have the gall to correct.

I remember how the girls talked about boys and how my eyes kept drifting to the pool. I thought we were actually going to swim-- I had gotten a new swimsuit just to prepare. the girls seemed to have no intention of this. we sat and talked and shared a plate of carrots and ranch that Elaine's mom had made.

I was bored, to be completely honest. I wanted to swim because we didn't have a pool in our backyard and I didn't really have anyone to swim with at the public pool by our house. once my nails had dried, I got up off my towel and went over to the pool, peered over the side.

there were mosaic tiles along the bottom that came together in the middle to create a dolphin-looking thing. it was ridiculously tacky. regardless, I took a few steps back, ran at the pool, and leapt into the air. tucking my legs up, I splashed into the cool water.

Minnesota winters are freezing, but the summers are just as hot. we always seemed to exist on two extremes: overwhelmingly rural to surprisingly cosmopolitan, frostbitten cold to sunburnt heat. all within the bounds of one state.

anyway, I jumped into this pool and apparently incurred the wrath of God.

"Ophelia, you splashed our nail polish!" was the first thing I heard when my head burst out of the delightful depths. I slicked my hair back and treaded water as I gauged all of their reactions. I figured once one person did it, they all would. it was a pool party, right? it wasn't like I'd done something wrong.

false.

"sorry!" I apologized quickly. Elaine looked at me in silence. for some reason, mean girls have a universal expression that they use before they say something cutting. it wasn't the first time she'd used it, but it was the first time she'd used it on me.

"you're weird." she told me. nobody said anything. they just stared at me, the girl who was somehow weird for going swimming at a pool party. we were on completely different wavelengths, evidently. I knew I wasn't weird and I came to the realization that Elaine was sort of a bitch. she'd just never been a bitch to me, so I hadn't noticed.

well, fuck Elaine and fuck her stupid anti-swimming social rules. I was gonna swim whenever and wherever I wanted.

...

I really have no idea why a sixth grade mean girl is on my mind as I make my way from the dressing room to set. maybe because I'm grateful for her. she never invited me to hang out again; in fact, she spent her time making my life a living hell for the entirety of middle and high school. if she hadn't made me feel like an outsider, I never would have considered art as a career.

when I walk briskly onto set, almost running smack into another woman with an earpiece in and a clipboard, I catch sight of Matthew. he's fixing the button on his blazer as he sits in a chair by the round table. Paget is talking to him and he's got a smile on his face like he's waiting for the punchline, waiting to laugh.