A Hero's Journey

Fast Friends

In August of 2023, 150 puberty-infused 7th graders started school at Schmane Schmeck Academic Center, a program for high-achieving nerds from across the city of Chicago. Every kid was new to the school and most walked in on Day 1 without a single friend. Out of desperation and fear, two young ladies glommed on to each other like Truth Social and a white male without a college degree.

The first of these young ladies is Chloe who is blonde, thin, and cute. She has pretty blue eyes and a nice smile. Chloe plays soccer, sings in the school chorus, and competes annually in the Chicago History Fair. She is articulate, smart, and kind of annoying. She’s the type of kid who not only thanks you for a ride home but does so multiple times, profusely. She’s overly complimentary. She talks loudly. She gives hugs too easily and too strong. In the words of OG (the other young lady and the hero of this story), Chloe is “really great but she’s a lot.”

All direct quotes in this post are attributed to OG, my 14-year-old daughter who, in her own way, is also a lot. Specifically, she can be a bit holier-than-thou. In 6th grade, OG was brought to tears by some wretched little boys who threw snowballs at her during recess. OG decided to send a 1,000-word email to those boys, shaming them for their behavior. Her sanctimony got her in trouble: The boys shared the email with the entire world and OG was bullied to no end.

But sometimes the bullied become heroes and the defenseless become saviors. Before becoming Spiderman, Peter Parker was tormented for being a science geek. Before becoming Batman, Bruce Wayne witnessed the murder of his parents. Before OG became a hero, she was a sad little dweeb on the playground with wet mittens and damp cheeks. Becoming a hero is complicated.

Back to Chloe and OG who, within weeks, were besties: endless messaging, sleepless sleepovers, excessive sharing of feelings, mindless excursions to Sephora and Starbucks, etc. It was all very cute.

Drama

Less than two weeks into the school year, Chloe also had a girlfriend named Violet. At a school where everyone is new and no one knows each other, it’s weird for anyone to start dating so quickly, let alone two girls, even in today’s climate where basically everyone is gay.

And sure enough, as the year dragged on, the drama between Chloe and Violet picked up: emotional texts, breaking up, getting back together, etc. It was all very silly. As Chloe’s best friend, OG often listened to Chloe complain about Violet not giving her enough attention. Because all feelings experienced by anyone in 2025 must be validated, OG validated Chloe’s but often lamented the fact that she herself had to give Chloe so much attention.

Chloe and OG were also part of a bigger friend group who, I suppose, are generally high-quality people but often suffer from groupthink (“we don’t like Ms. Barker,” “we like being nonchalant,” etc.) and, consequently, become mindless, middle school monsters, resembling a more naive, less Machiavellian version of Mean Girls. By spring of 7th grade, most of them had already “stopped liking” Chloe and one of them outwardly expressed frustration at OG for “spending too much time with her” (code for “I’m a jealous bitch”). By the end of the year, OG had started distancing herself from Chloe because she was “just a lot to deal with.”

OG liked Chloe but sometimes felt annoyed by her. She didn’t want to abandon her but pressure from the Mean Girls was mounting. OG felt stuck. Summer was approaching, and her friendship with Chloe was in doubt. Becoming a hero is complicated.

The Phone Call

Luckily for OG, she was able to avoid making any decisions for most of the summer. Such is the life of the privileged few who get to shirk responsibility and decision-making by attending sleep-away camp for the entire month of June and frolicking around the Middle East and Europe for the entire month of July. By the time OG came home in early August, school was about to start and she felt that a “decision” with Chloe needed to be made.

OG was slow to respond to some texts and Chloe asked if the two of them “were still good.” She messaged OG again, saying she didn’t want to be “iced out” or “left on read.” The worst thing any human being can do to any other human being is 2025 is “ghost” them so, like a big girl, OG picked up the phone and actually called Chloe, something no child has done since approximately 2009. OG initially tried to give her the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech but ultimately felt compelled to tell Chloe that she “needed some space because it was a lot to handle.” 

“What’s ‘it’?” Chloe asked.

“Being around you,” OG responded.

Chloe was in tears.

An hour after the phone call, OG was feeling sad, perhaps guilty, so she went to check her phone which, sure enough, had an “essay” from Chloe. OG responded sympathetically, came back to the couch for Family Movie Night, and returned to her phone a few minutes later to see another “mad” essay followed by a “sad” essay.

Chloe was reeling. OG apologized. Chloe sent another “mad” essay followed by another “sad” essay.

They were both in tears.

Lunch Tables (Part I)

Mean Girls is a great movie and one of its many great scenes is when Regina George breaks the rules by wearing sweatpants on a Monday. After a heated exchange at the lunch tables in the cafeteria, Gretchen Wieners explodes, “You can’t sit with us!”

The Mean Girls in this story commandeered a few lunch tables in Schmane Schmeck’s cafeteria and, on the first day of 8th grade, Chloe sat with them. Soon enough, the Mean Girls at Table 1 started literally, figuratively, and wickedly “pushing Chloe to the side,” saying they could only fit a few girls on each end.

OG: “Maybe we also made some comments. I don’t remember.”

Saul: “You don’t remember? You mean you remember perfectly but don’t want to admit it?”

OG: “Okay, we were pushing her. I’m taking responsibility. But, like, I don’t remember if there were comments or if she just got fed up and moved to another table.”

Was OG a bystander? Was she complicit? Are bystanders ipso facto complicit? Quick story: I went to high school with a kid named Greg and once when we were taking a group picture, another kid named Jason directly excluded Greg from the photo because, well, the details don’t matter. I sat there, silent, while Greg walked away in tears.

So Chloe (now at Table 2) is feeling rejected, eating a sloppy joe made by the lunch lady, and OG is feeling safe, eating a turkey and cheese sandwich made by Saul. The Mean Girls at Table 2 then start complaining to the Mean Girls at Table 1 about Table 1 having banished Chloe to Table 2. So what does Table 2 do? It squeezes in with Table 1 so now Chloe “actually can’t fit.” If I may: What a bunch of heartless bitches.

So now what does Chloe do? She goes and sits with Violet (the girlfriend) and a couple of Violet’s friends who also don’t want Chloe sitting with them. I can’t explain why a girlfriend wouldn’t protect her girlfriend in this situation but I can tell you that everything does, in fact, get worse.

The Text

Who hates immigrants the most? Immigrants. More broadly, who hates outsiders the most? Outsiders. Pardon the xenophobia, but Table 3 of Mean Girls consists of two Chineses (Tropic Thunder) and one Ethernopian (South Park), two of whom are downright vicious and one of whom personifies complicit bystander. Out of utter desperation, Chloe joins their lunch table and the Outsiders jump at the chance to destroy another outsider. After a few days, the most “mean-spirited” of the three sends the following text:

“Hi [Chloe]. I think I’m speaking for my table and [that other Mean Girl’s] table that you have been hopping around recently. In short, we would like space. We have constantly made it very obvious that we don’t want you with us. All of us are visibly uncomfortable with you around us and you continue to deny that. We don’t want to be friends with someone who doesn’t respect boundaries and completely denies the fact that anything’s wrong. I know for a full fact that you know what you did. I have a few requests. Firstly, give everyone space. Secondly, stop body-shaming people. And lastly, stop following us after school. If you are unsure who to sit with at lunch, sit with your girlfriend or at your original table.”

Before I once again refer to these young ladies as heartless bitches, let me offer some commentary and context:

1. This text was, somehow, unbelievably, a softer, edited version of an earlier text which included shaming Chloe for allegedly flirting with some stupid boy.

2. What does “full fact” mean? I thought you attended an academic center.

3. Chloe didn’t body-shame you but if she had, maybe there was a reason.

4. If you had any balls, you’d say this to Chloe’s face. Good luck hiding behind a screen for the rest of your life, you heartless bitches.

OG claims she told all the Mean Girls, “Stop being mean to Chloe and stop icing her out. If you really want space, tell her in a nice way.” But, she says, they still “wrote [the text] and [asked] for space in a mean way. I didn’t tell them to write this. I didn’t even know they wrote this.”

Well hold on there OG. What do you mean by “this”? You knew about an earlier version of the text, right? You knew they were gonna send something, right? Did you tell them to talk to Chloe in person? Did you tell them to just chill out and grow up? Did you tell them to be nice or else you'd torture and murder them?

No, OG, I don’t think you did any of that because becoming a hero is complicated.

Winter Formal

Let’s take stock: After starting a brand new school, Chloe finds a crew, gets a girlfriend, and makes a new best friend. She is then rejected by her vicious crew, excluded by her callous girlfriend, and abandoned by her confused best friend. The bullying continues, and we arrive at 8th grade Winter Formal.

Per aforementioned privilege, our house is a big house which means our house is the party house which means OG’s friends come to our house for sleepovers in the basement, sun-bathing on the deck, and beautifying themselves in preparation for the most awkward of awkward: middle school dances. OG told the Mean Girls she’d send a text to invite everyone over before the Winter Formal. A day or two later, Chloe (who, OG claims, didn’t know OG was hosting a pre-party) sent a “sad” text to 13 girls inviting them to get ready at her house where they could “have snacks and order pizza in the basement.”

In a state of total chaos and complete anarchy, the Mean Girls immediately start blowing up OG’s phone: “Are you gonna go? Are you not having a party at your house? What’s going on???”

Though OG had not planned to invite Chloe to her house, she admirably responds to the hysterical Mean Girls, “I’m going to Chloe’s. There’s nothing at my house anymore. I’m going. I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t pressure you into this. I’m going. I think you should too.” She also quickly responds to Chloe on the party group chat, “Yup, I’m coming.” Maybe becoming a hero isn’t that complicated?

The Mean Girls are in crisis mode. They don’t know where to pre-party and they certainly don’t know how to be nice. One of them strongly considers getting ready in the school bathroom. Fast forward a couple weeks and a total of three girls go to Chloe’s pre-party: Chloe, OG, and Kendra, who is not a member of the Mean Girls and whom OG describes as “very nice.” The pre-party at Chloe’s is fun, the dance is great, and OG has a post-party with the Mean Girls at our house. Chloe is not included. Oops, maybe becoming a hero is still complicated.

Lunch Tables (Part II)

Cold February day in Chicago. Cafeteria in Schmane Schmeck Academic Center. Regina George, Gretchen Wieners, OG, Chloe, etc.

OG gets up from the lunch table and Chloe sits in her seat. OG returns to the table and thinks, No way I’m kicking her out of my seat. She’s sitting here now. Maybe I’ll ask her to scooch over.

OG: “Hey Chloe, can you scooch over a bit?”

Mean Girls: “Chloe, you took her seat. You’re in her seat. Get up. Go away.”

OG: “Guys, it’s ok, it’s ok. She can scooch over a bit.”

Mean Girls: “No. Chloe, go away.”

OG thinks, Forget it. I’m just gonna stand here and eat my blueberries. I’m standing. It’s fine. I’ll stand.

Mean Girls: “Chloe, you have to leave. You have to leave.”

Gretchen Wieners stands up and exclaims: “CHLOE, CAN’T YOU SEE NOBODY WANTS YOU HERE?!?”

Chloe gets up, tears welling her in her eyes, and “speedwalks” away. OG catches up to her and says, “I’m so sorry. I can’t even believe she did that. That was so horrible of her.”

Chloe: “No, it’s ok, it’s ok. Just leave me alone.”

OG: “I’m so sorry.”

Chloe: “You don’t understand how hard this year has been for me. This is taking such a toll on me. It’s so hard for me to get up in the morning and come to school every day.”

OG: “Yeah, I understand. This has been so horrible.”

Chloe: “It’s not just them. It’s you too.”

OG: “I understand. I’m so sorry I can’t stand up for you more than I already am.”

Chloe: “No, I understand. I’m not worth risking all your friendships over.”

OG was mad at the Mean Girls but mostly swallowed her anger and guilt. OG considered going to the counselor with Chloe but ultimately encouraged her to go alone. Gretchen Wieners told OG she apologized to Chloe but Chloe said she didn’t. OG never followed up.

The balance between defending Chloe and maintaining a friendship with the Mean Girls was delicate. After OG called out one of them for excluding Chloe from an after-school gathering at Wendy’s, the Mean Girl got mad at OG for not blindly “having her back.” OG told her she didn’t have anyone’s back when what they were doing “was wrong.” In the end, however, OG ended up profusely apologizing to the Mean Girl even though she knew that calling her out had been right.

Boston

Cool days in April. Violet dumps Chloe. Chloe now has no one to room with for the 8th grade spring trip to Boston. Each room has four girls. OG is in a group of seven so Chloe would be an easy eighth. Chloe asks two of the Mean Girls if she can room with them. They straight up lie to her face with their ugly, lying faces and say they don’t have space. Chloe asks OG if she can room with her and, without asking the Mean Girls, OG says yes. (“I didn’t need to ask them. I just said yes.”) The Mean Girls are not pleased and do everything in their repulsive power not to share a room with Chloe.

On the final night, Chloe, OG, and two of the Mean Girls “just start talking.” Chloe tells them how “horrible” they have been and the girls say “I’m so sorry” over and over. Chloe keeps asking, “Why? Like, why?” and the girls can’t explain their behavior. The “trauma-dumping” goes deep into the night and there are tears, laughter, and hugs. Though some of the Mean Girls not in the room that night initially resist, Chloe gets added back to the original group chat. The next day, “everyone was friends” again and the Mean Girls were kinder to Chloe.

A few weeks later, OG had the end-of-year party at our house. All of the Mean Girls were there and so was Chloe. I watched them sitting around the dining room table, stuffing their fat faces with cake, sending vapid selfies on Snapchat, and jokingly calling each other racist for using the word “Hispanic.” OG was laughing. Chloe was laughing. The Mean Girls were laughing. Becoming a hero isn’t that complicated: You just have to keep trying.