I would say that I'm in touch with my emotions. Sometimes, I take it too far by acting with pure instinct in certain situations, but overall, I believe that I keep a balanced track of everything.

Delilah had been a huge source of guidance for me growing up, but I know that she didn't always make the wisest choices. She did always want to do what was right at heart though.

When she lied to her parents about skipping school, her guilt took the initiative of telling them the truth. She willingly took the punishment of being forced to stay at home, and she said she felt better than how she would have been with her former dishonesty.

Sometimes, you just have to fuck something up and then take ownership of what you did.

That's something that I also learned in 7th grade when I purposefully locked Delilah outside of the schools doors in the pouring rain when no teachers were watching just for the purpose of making a joke. When I saw how much "pain" she in, I decided to join her outside. We spent over 20 minutes dancing in the rain like two idiots before the football coach caught us out there and gave us detention.

In that moment, I learned a lot. I found out that if you don't want to get a cold, you definitely shouldn't spend 20 minutes in the rain without the correct clothes on. I also realized that my efforts at being funny were horrible.

Delilah didn't really mind though. She walked through life like it was nothing, and I think that if she had wanted to, she could have forced the rain to stop for her.

She was unstoppable. It helps to think about our fun times whenever I'm bored.

Like right now that I'm sitting in class, mindlessly watching my professor give a lengthy lecture about a subject I don't care about. I'm only here to fulfill one of my general requirements, so it's not that important. I can tell that other people feel the same, based on the way that most are just scrolling through their phones and others are engaged in other conversations.

Well, at least I'm not that rude. I try to make my lack of attention appear to be less obvious.

"Can you stop that?" A guy bluntly questions with a rough tone, and before I can ask what he means, he points at my legs. In particular, my right leg which has been mindlessly tapping on the floor.

Without a word, I simply nod and try my best to stop. Sometimes, I don't even notice that I'm doing that. I would prefer if people were less harsh about it though. I wonder how he would react if I were to rudely tell him to stop chewing on his pencil. I bet it wouldn't make him too happy to hear that.

I've spent a week at this university though, and I already know that's not the right move to make. I can't afford to have any enemies so soon, especially when I haven't even made any friends.

I feel someone staring at me again, and I look up and lock eyes with the same guy from a few minutes ago. Wordlessly, he simply points at my leg, this time my left leg, and I notice that I've been tapping again. Again, I stop and I try to focus on the familiar dark blue shade of my athletic shoes.

I've realized that athletic shoes are the best when it comes to this school, considering the fact that every building is spread so far apart. It's one of the things that first attracted me to this place, but it's different when you actually get there. I look down at my shoes again, and I notice a small patch of grass stuck on the edge of one of my shoes. I can't pick away at it right now, but I know it'll bother me until I do so.

I glance at the people around me once again, and many of the white girls are dressed up in extravagant outfits. Flowing dresses, fancy high heels, and designer bags. They clearly want to make their wealth known, even if it's just for our 9 am class in the building with a leaking roof. Is it like that at every university, or just at mine?

They can obviously dress how they've want, I've just never been one to dress that way. My parents don't have enough money for me to waste it like that.

They notice me staring, and before I turn away, I hear one mutter under her breath, "that girl is only here to fulfill the school's diversity requirement."

It stings. People say that words mean nothing, but they've probably never faced the wrath of skinny rich white girls who will tear you apart like it's just a game. As a Colombian, I've heard words like this my entire life, so I feel like it shouldn't affect me anymore. It's just painful to see the cycle occur over and over again everywhere.

Back home, there were people like that too.

Because of the way that our city was set up, there were two schools that people from the rich side and my side could attend. Most students in my side of town chose to go to the public school to avoid being outcasts, but because my grades allowed me to qualify for scholarships at the private school, my parents had insisted that I go there so that I could get a "better" education.

The only fond memories I have from that place are the ones I have with Delilah, where we got to spend time together.

Those people, with Delilah being the only exception, never looked past my appearance or my last name, and they all knew that I was from the "bad" end of the city. I feel like these girls are the same people, just in different bodies with different names. I feel unfair in making an assumption, but they've made one about me too. They think that they're more qualified to be here than me.

I qualified academically. You never really know if it's the same case for rich people. Money can buy anything, include acceptances to an institution like this.

Is it rude of me to say that? I hesitate for a second, but I also remember that they didn't think even think about what they said before they said it. I glance over at them again, and they've already moved on. That's good for me, but it just goes to show how carelessly mean people can be.

I feel my own red face return to what I assume must be a normal shade, and I try to relax. It's over, for now anyway.