Co-authored by Kristin Chang
Lining the corridor outside the library, they lean on the concrete walls — and sometimes one another — laughing and eating their lunches. Then it begins.

One girl begins to hum the chorus of a song. Before they can stop themselves, they’ve all broken the only formal contract of their friendship: the two-line rule.

The law of the land is that everyone can only sing two lines of any song, or else they’d be singing all through lunch and all through the day. After all, many of them met in choir at Kennedy Middle School, and so their singing is almost compulsive.

The rule is broken almost daily, and they dissolve into laughter as they recount other memories of mayhem: once, they planned a disastrous potluck where nobody brought food, and another where people only brought sweets. Yet, despite their many slip-ups, their lunches together never fail to bring them closer as they hum or laugh or imitate one another, their voices overlapping, ebbing and blending like song. And yet each voice is distinct.

“We’re all complete opposites of each other,” freshman Samheeta Mistry said. “Opposites attract. That’s the one thing that describes us.”

The honest one: Samheeta Mistry

“I am myself and I’m not going to listen to you,” freshman Advika Verma said, imitating Mistry.

“People say I’m very direct,” Mistry said, agreeing.

“She’s never afraid to say what she thinks,” freshman Maddie Yung said. “She’s not afraid of making her feelings known. You can ask her opinion on anything, and she’ll tell you. But she doesn’t impose her opinion.”

“Advika is more like, ‘You must think like me,’” freshman Mahima Kapur said, leaning in and imitating Verma. They exchange glances and burst into laughter.

The diplomat: Maddie Yung

“I’m scared to order food at a restaurant. I ask other people to order for me sometimes. I don’t like being rejected, even if it’s not harsh rejection,” Yung said. “I just don’t like hearing the word ‘No,’ and I don’t like criticism, either. I know that I need criticism, but I refuse to accept it.”

“I don’t understand how she’s so non-confrontational because so many things make me mad,” Verma said, interrupting. “She’s so good at brushing things off and not taking things to heart. That’s her strength.”

The sweet one: Savannah Stevens

“I’m new to the group, we’re still getting to know each other. I’ve learned that you can go farther in life by being nice and saying things that make other people happy, rather than being negative,” Stevens said. “So I try to be proud of the person I am, to be the kind of person I want to be friends with.”

“She always looks out for everyone in the group,” freshman Reema Apte said, pointing at the gray jacket slung over her shoulder. It was Savannah who asked for that jacket from a friend so that Apte wouldn’t be cold. “She makes sure that the group is well.”

“Seeing all these talented people complimenting you, it’s just the craziest experience,” Stevens said. “And when you’re at your lowest, it feels good to have someone recognize you at your best.”

The perfectionist: Reema Apte

“The object that most represents Reema is a ruler,” freshman Advika Verma said. “She carries it [around], she uses it for everything, she’s such a perfectionist.”

“My greatest pet peeve is a backpack full of papers,” Apte said.

Freshman Zinnia Saha recalls that in seventh grade, their math teacher called on Apte to write something on the board, and she brought a ruler with her. When she writes on a sheet of paper, she makes sure that her handwriting is always neat and straight.

But she’s more than just neat. To many of her friends, Apte is the very example of perfection.

“Six-minute mile. Pretty green eyes,” freshman Zinnia Saha said, listing out Apte’s traits.
“Amazing artist, smart. She’s so perfect… That’s why we pick on her.”

“It’s out of love,” Saha said.

The realist: Meijie Liao

“I’m not as much a dreamer,” freshman Meijie Liao said. “Most people in this group say, ‘I’m gonna be a pop star, I’m gonna be super successful and make a lot of money,’ and I’m here saying, ‘I’m probably going to be working as a check-out clerk at Staples.’”

Liao describes herself as an observer, someone who can distance herself from any situation.
“A lot of people are focused on the little things, but they miss the big concepts,” Liao said. “It helps you see the world differently. Instead of the nitty-gritty things, you see the world as a whole.”

“She keeps us all sane!” her friends said, all at once.

The political one: Advika Verma

“I know this country is broken,” freshman Advika Verma said. “[Other people] have to get used to my [enthusiasm] because I debate everything and everyone.”

“I’m really passionate, so you just have to get used to it or don’t talk to me. I feel very strongly about government [and social] issues, [like] gay rights, abortion, college — ”

“You feel strongly about everything!” Mahima said, cutting Verma off.

Laughing, Verma agrees. “I [even] have opinions on pockets — I think they should all be bigger.”

“The main thing I feel strongly about is social issues, [like] feminism… I just feel strongly about ‘live, and let live’… This world is just so crazy. There are so many societal barriers society puts up against other people and it’s like, ‘Why are they doing this?’ They weren’t always there.”

The mom: Elika Hashemi

“We balance each other out. If you’re the loud one, then you’re with other people who are quiet, if you’re the mom, you’re with adventurous people,” Hashemi said. “It really makes you try new things.”

“Honey, I don’t think she gave you your change back correctly, I’m gonna go back,” Verma said, imitating Hashemi.

Everyone laughs, agreeing that she really does act like a mom, always taking care of them like children, always hesitant to take a risk.

The outgoing one: Zinnia Saha

“If you have that status of an outgoing person, you can speak your mind more,” freshman Zinnia Saha said. Her friends describe her as crazy, and though she admits she often speaks impulsively, she’s always striving to be more thoughtful.

“When you’re [outgoing] you go with your emotions, but you don’t want to be offensive,” Saha said. “Then you seem haughty. But I don’t think I have a right for my opinion to be inflicted on other people.”

She’s learned to think before she speaks, though that wasn’t always the case. Once, when she was watching two friends fight, she blurted out to one girl if she could calm down. The girl began crying, and Saha later realized she had been a little insensitive. But speaking impulsively is also her strength.

“It gets you noticed. If you’re not mean about it, it gets you respect,” she said.