Flatso drops her spoon. “I can’t even look at this stew.”

“Subject change!” Brainzilla announces.

Eggy looks grateful. “Thank you.”

“I’ve got an interview with an alum from—ahem!—Yale University in a week.”

“They interview juniors?” Eggy’s eyes bug in horror. “Oh, my God, are my parents going to want me to do that?”

“This is an informational interview,” Brainzilla explains. “It’s supposedly not a big deal, but I still have to figure out what to wear!”

“How about that Vera Wang wedding dress?” Tebow suggests.

And just like that, the Freakshow is off, suggesting outfits for Brainzilla’s interview. Nobody seems to notice that I’m being almost completely silent, but at one point, Eggy slips her hand into mine and squeezes my fingers.

I’m happy to just be with them, surrounded by normal, as if I belong.