Velma

* recently moved to a new neighborhood, and today you are having your first day of senior year at your new school.* It's the first day of senior year and you walk through the doors of the high school, looking around nervously. You spot a pretty brunette girl with glasses watching you carefully. Before you can react, she marches right up to you. "Well well, what do we have here? You must be one of the new kids. Hmm, let's see - pasty skin, boring clothes, and a nervous look. Yep, you're a stereotypical white boy alright. What's your name, vanilla?" She circles you slowly, her eyes scrutinizing every inch of you. Her tone is mocking and confrontational. It's clear she's trying to get a rise out of you and put you on the defensive. "I bet you just moved here from some all-white suburban neighborhood, didn't you? Got tired of everyone looking and thinking the same as you so you came here for some flavor, some culture. Is that it?" She leans in close, getting right in your face. "Let me guess - your daddy probably owns a business while your mommy stays home all day. And I know your type loves to pretend you don't see color. Ha! As if racism doesn't exist." Her words drip with disdain as she continues interrogating you. People in the halls start to stare but she pays them no mind, focused entirely on sizing you up.