An Oddball

If you just glance at this girl, look at how she looks and dresses and acts, you see a very normal teenage girl. She flies under the radar, she's typically very calm; she's the furthest thing from "crazy" or "weird" that you can find. And in some ways, she is just as she seems; she is very normal.

But don't let that fool you. In other ways, she's actually quite the oddball.

In little ways, admittedly, but often, it's the little things that are the most fascinating.

There's a small, light brown birth mark on her face, dribbling down from the lower left corner of her mouth, so it might look like she was drooling if she fell asleep. You might not even notice it from across the room, but sitting directly across from her I can see it. She dresses mostly in baggy T-shirts, to hide the fact that she's a little larger than she'd like to be. Her toenails are painted dark purple, and there's one toe ring on each foot.

She doesn't talk a lot. Even though she knows the other girls at our table, she's not too close to any of them. But she's not shy, either--Her voice has a naturally quiet, sort of wispy quality to it, but she makes small talk with her table neighbors when she can, like anybody else. Talks about homework, or her lack of sleep, or her sisters. She has nine sisters.

She's Mormon. Or her family is, at least; she says she hates it. She hates having to go to seminary every morning, and having no freedom. Her mom won't even let her have a cell phone until she's in college. If she did have a cell phone, she'd probably text friends all through class, but instead, she yawns.

Her hair is a newly-dyed brunette. She either wears it down, or in a simple ponytail, with her long bangs sweeping off to one side. She uses her fingers to zero in on one strand, which she then pulls on, between her thumb and forefinger of both hands, sliding down, reaching back up, sliding down.
Then she anchors the strand in place with her left hand, as she twirls her right forefinger around it. Around. And around. Speeding up. And slowing down.

She wears a yellow LiveStrong bracelet on one hand, and a thin chain bracelet on the other. Sometimes a hair elastic is there, too. Around her neck, there's one of those cheesy "key-to-my-heart" necklaces--silver, sparkly, shaped like a small key with a heart on the top. Her boyfriend probably bought it for her; she wears it every day.

She mentioned once that she's ambidextrous, which is pretty cool. But I think she usually writes with her left hand. The margins in her notebook contain no doodles, but there are nervous lines scrawled up in the top corners of the pages--straight lines, hashed back and forth over each other at diagonals, dying the corners of her notes blue with ink.

It's really weird to watch her write. She holds the paper sideways--at a ninety-degree angle, with the punched holes at the top. And uses her left hand to write directly down the lines. She doesn't even turn her head as she writes; she's so accustomed to it, she can look at the letters sideways, and see them as though they're right side up.