The rest of the morning passed in a blur for Jen. She struggled to focus in her classes, still grappling with the twisted reality she now found herself in. The teachers and students seemed completely at ease in this world where the roles between Black and white people had been reversed for centuries. Jen couldn’t shake the feeling that she was an outsider, living in a place that wasn’t meant for her.
In her math class, she noticed the same reversed power dynamics she had seen earlier. The Black students were treated as if they were inherently better at academics, receiving more praise for their work, while the white students were either ignored or treated as though they were less capable. It was subtle but clear. Jen could feel the teacher’s eyes skimming over her during explanations, like she wasn’t worth the effort of engagement.
By the time the bell rang for lunch, Jen’s stomach was knotted with both hunger and unease. She hadn’t seen Britt since their encounter in the hallway, but the thought of sitting alone was too much to bear. She didn’t know anyone else, and even though Britt was… intense, she was at least offering Jen some guidance in this strange new world.
Clutching her lunch tray, Jen scanned the cafeteria, looking for the white kids Britt had mentioned. It didn’t take long to spot them—clustered at a table near the back, they were easy to identify. Their clothes were a mishmash of styles, some trying to imitate the more polished, preppy fashion of the Black students, while others leaned into a more "ghetto" aesthetic, like Britt.
Jen swallowed her nerves and made her way over, feeling eyes on her as she passed. She didn’t know if it was because she was the new girl or because of her uncomfortable attempts to fit into this reversed world, but she could feel the weight of judgment with every step.
When she reached the table, Britt was already there, laughing loudly with a group of white kids. Her nails clicked against the tray as she gestured to an open seat beside her.
“Ay, Jen!” Britt called out. “Come sit your ass down, girl.”
The other kids at the table glanced at Jen as she approached, sizing her up just like Britt had earlier. A few of them looked curious, while others gave her dismissive glances.
Jen slid into the seat next to Britt, offering a small, nervous smile to the group.
“This here’s the new girl I was tellin' y’all about,.” Britt said, nodding toward Jen. “Fresh meat.”
A guy sitting across from them snickered. He wore an oversized hoodie, with his baseball cap tilted to the side. “Fresh meat, huh? You sure she can hang, Britt?”
“Please,” Britt replied, rolling her eyes. “I’ll get her in shape. Ain’t that right, Jen?”
Jen forced a laugh, trying to play along. “Yeah, sure.”
The girl next to the hoodie-wearing guy, with platinum-blonde hair and heavy eyeliner, gave Jen a side-eye. “You from one of those trailer park neighborhoods or somethin'?” she asked bluntly. “You don’t look like you belong in the West Side.”
Jen’s heart sank at the question. She was used to people assuming she was from privilege, but here it was like she was the odd one out for not fitting into the lower-class stereotype. “I, uh… I just moved here.” Jen stammered. “Still getting used to things.”
“Figures.” the girl muttered, turning her attention back to her food.
Britt, sensing the tension, waved her hand dismissively. “Man, chill out, Jenna. Don’t matter where she’s from. What matters is she’s tryin’ to make it work, aight?”
Jenna just shrugged, clearly unimpressed.
Jen, trying to shake off the awkwardness, turned to Britt and asked, “So, how long have you guys been, like, friends?”
Britt grinned. “Oh, we been runnin’ this school for a minute now. You gotta stick together when you’re like us. Ain’t nobody else gonna look out for you.”
Another guy at the table, who had been scrolling through his phone, spoke up. “Ain’t that the truth. This place’ll eat you alive if you don’t find your crew.”
Jen nodded, pretending to understand. The truth was, she still felt completely out of place. The way Britt and the others spoke, the way they carried themselves—it all felt like an act, a survival mechanism in a world that didn’t have room for them to be anything else.
As they ate, Jen tried to keep up with the conversation, but it was hard to follow. Britt and the others talked about school drama, the latest social media trends, and how unfair it was that Black students got away with so much.
“Man, did you hear about Andre?” one of the guys said, leaning in conspiratorially. “He skipped class all week, didn’t even turn in his homework, and guess what? They let him off with a warning.”
Jenna snorted. “Typical. If that was us, we’d be suspended in a heartbeat.”
Britt nodded, her expression hardening. “Yup. But we gotta be better, right? Can’t make no mistakes or they’ll throw us out like trash.”
The conversation left Jen feeling even more unsettled. The casual resentment, the constant feeling of being on edge—it wasn’t something she’d ever had to deal with in her world. Here, though, it seemed to define every part of these kids’ lives.
As the lunch period drew to a close, Britt nudged Jen with her elbow. “Stick with me, Jen. I’ll show you how to get by in this place. But you gotta keep your head down, aight? Don’t go tryna act all special just ‘cause you new.”
Jen nodded, grateful for Britt’s offer, even though it felt hollow. “Thanks, Britt. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Britt said with a wink. “Welcome to the crew, girl.”
But as the bell rang and they headed back to class, Jen couldn’t shake the feeling that this new world—this reversed reality—was going to be a lot harder to survive than she had anticipated. And no matter how much she tried to blend in, she knew deep down she wasn’t like them. She didn’t belong here.
And the worst part? She wasn’t sure if she ever would.