“I felt degraded. I saw the boys walk to the bedroom, talking and relaxed, while the girls wouldn't meet each other's eyes. I thought that we had lost some crucial bit of power, not from the act of being judged, but by showing that it meant something to us. I wanted to be like the boys, who seemed to have forgotten that it happened the moment they stepped away. Was it that the boys didn't care as much about their appearance, or because they were al-ready so sure of their worth that external opinion meant nothing to them? I didn't hate that I was the second-most beautiful: I hated that I had to stand there and be told that everyone else thought so.”
— s. 37
