“A teach­er in Ok­la­homa re­flect­ed on the post-​grad­ua­tion af­ter­math of stu­dent so­cial di­vi­sions. “The in crowd al­ways hangs to­geth­er, even af­ter grad­ua­tion. They are the ones who will be­come debutantes af­ter their fresh­man year in col­lege. The oth­ers tend to drift away. They don’t get in­vit­ed to the par­ties, they are laughed at be­cause they aren’t wear­ing de­sign­er clothes, etc.,” she said. But when it comes down to the pop­ular stu­dents ver­sus the out­casts, the lat­ter “are more sure of them­selves (even with the ridicule), and usu­al­ly turn out to be more suc­cess­ful and well-​adjust­ed. I would take the out­casts in a heart­beat.” So would I.”

“I mean it wasn’t an empty hole, there was al­ways some­thing in it, but it was never right. It never fit. I went to col­lege for a short time, until I sat back one day and said to my­self: An­drew, what the fuck are you doing here? And it clicked in my head that I wasn’t there be­cause it’s what I wanted, I was there be­cause it’s what peo­ple ex­pected, even peo­ple I don’t know, so­ci­ety. It’s what peo­ple do.”

“Usu­al­ly, very ear­ly in the morn­ing. Ger­man la­bor­ers were go­ing to work. They would stop and look at us with­out sur­prise. One day when we had come to a stop, a work­er took a piece of bread out of his bag and threw it in­to a wag­on. There was a stam­pede. Dozens of starv­ing men fought des­per­ate­ly over a few crumbs. The work­er watched the spec­ta­cle with great interest. Years later, I witnessed a sim­ilar spec­ta­cle in Aden. Our ship’s pas­sen­gers amused them­selves by throw­ing coins to the “natives,” who dove to retrieve them. An el­egant Parisian la­dy took great plea­sure in this game. When I no­ticed two chil­dren des­perate­ly fighting in the wa­ter, one try­ing to stran­gle the oth­er, I implored the la­dy: “Please, don’t throw any more coins!” “Why not?” said she. “I like to give char­ity…”

“With all the lit­tle facts we learned, we nev­er had the time to think. None of us ev­er con­sid­ered what life would be like clean­ing up af­ter a stranger ev­ery day. Wash­ing dish­es all day. Feed­ing a stranger’s chil­dren. Mow­ing a lawn. All day. Paint­ing hous­es. Year af­ter year.”

“Is ignoring me supposed to endear you to me somehow?” “No. That’s the job of my thighs and my get-lost-in-them-forever dreamy eyes.” He leaned in even closer and blinked his eyes several times. “Mesmerizing, aren’t they?” Irene couldn’t hold it back anymore. It flooded out of her and she couldn’t stop it. Even when everyone turned and stared at her, including Jackie and Paul, she couldn’t stop. And she tried. Because laughing this much really would only exacerbate his ego even more.”

“She had sought me out. I knew it would happen. Even if I had switched to a different section, she would have sought me out all the same. She, who hid in the crowd, who didn’t want anyone to see her behind her veil of averted eyes and aloofness. When I stepped forward, she came out, too. And she pointed and said, revealing a child’s wanton smile: “That’s the one I want.” And like a potted sunflower that had just been sold to a customer, I was taken away. There was no way to refuse. This, from a beautiful girl that I was already deeply, viscerally attracted to. Things were getting good.”