Surviving High School

allowed me a chance to punctuate the statement we’re about to make.”
    “I’ve been getting reports from a lot of your teachers that your performance is slipping in class,” said Alicia. “Nothingtoo drastic—just a little drop from stellar down to above average. But what’s got a lot of people worried is the way you look—it’s like you can barely keep your eyes open.”
    “I haven’t been getting much sleep lately,” Emily confessed.
    “Not too many students push themselves as hard as you do,” said Alicia, scooting her desk closer to Emily. “There are plenty of students taking nothing but honors classes—and plenty more athletes—but to try to do both—”
    “I’m doing fine,” said Emily, standing up. She turned to Mr. McBride. “What’s my grade in this class right now?”
    He looked down at his notebook.
    “B-minus.”
    She picked up her backpack, feeling her face glowing red with embarrassment.
    “Fine,” she said. “Then I’ll just have to work harder.”
    “Emily,” said Alicia, “that’s not what we’re trying to—”
    But Emily didn’t want to hear any more. It was just too much to take, especially from Alicia, who had been so proud of her before. She got up and left the room without another word.
    “Hello?” called Kimi. “Earth to Emily! Are you ready?”
    Emily sat on a bench outside the fitting rooms at the huge Macy’s at the center of the mall as Kimi prepared to show her yet another dress. This would be the twelfth one she’d tried on, each more hideous than the last.
    “Ready!” said Emily, trying not to let her exhaustion creep into her voice. As she and Kimi had scoured clothingracks in every corner of the mall, Emily realized two things: one, that she had never really gone dress shopping before, and two, that she didn’t like it.
    On each of her previous trips to the mall, Emily had come with her mom, or on infrequent, stressful occasions, her dad. She’d seen clothes as something functional—a way to ward off the cold and rain. She’d barely cared how she looked.
    This was real dress shopping. Hitting every store at the mall with a girlfriend in tow, trying on any dress that looked even remotely flattering on the rack. By the time they’d been shopping for an hour, Emily’s calves and feet ached, and she’d had to beg Kimi for a break so she could sit while Kimi tried on more dresses.
    Still, shopping wasn’t all bad. Normally Emily would have cringed at the thought of spending a Saturday afternoon this way, but given her current stress level, any distraction was a welcome one.
    “What do you think?” asked Kimi as she emerged from the fitting room and twirled in a full-length green ball gown. This one hugged Kimi’s body strangely, making her appear almost cylindrical instead of curvy.
    “You look like a big cucumber,” said Emily after a few seconds. “But maybe that’s what you’re going for?”
    Kimi’s face fell.
    “That’s not even attractive by vegetable standards.”
    She turned to go back to the dressing room.
    “Whatever I end up getting, it has to be hotter than any possible dress Dominique and Lindsay could possiblyfind!” she shouted from behind the dressing-room door. “I need to look so good that they look like real estate agents in comparison!”
    “Just don’t overdo it,” pleaded Emily. “Remember, it’s homecoming, not prom. The ball gowns are just a little—much.”
    “This is impossible!” shouted Kimi, frustrated. “I may as well just go naked, like in my recurring nightmare.”
    “We’ll find something—don’t worry,” said Emily, but her heart wasn’t in it, and the words came out flat.
    “So what’s with you?” shouted Kimi. “Is everything okay?”
    Everything most definitely wasn’t okay. Emily had just found out her sister had been having a secret relationship with Nick Brown, her dad was getting suspicious about the bags under her eyes, and with Quals for Junior Nationals just around the corner, her muscles ached and she felt like she might pass out at any moment.
    “Do you ever worry you don’t really know the people in your life?” asked Emily. “Like, sure, you know the surface things about them. But deep down there’s a whole other self you can never access.”
    “Definitely!” shouted Kimi. “Like on my dates with Phil, the guy could spend two hours talking about the new sound system his cousin just hooked up, with, like, sixteen different speakers positioned at