When Juliet came back from dinner, she heard conversation from inside her room; she paused outside, not wishing to interrupt whatever Emily and Amanda were talking about.

"Ever since she became ASUC president, Juliet has been so insufferable. She and all her groupies have been acting like she's just been elected dictator. Nobody cares outside of student government what goes on inside," Emily said.

"I know, right! And have you ever been to her club's office at Ackerman? I looked inside once when I was walking by."

"And what did you see?"

"They have this giant wall of security camera footage, and since it was dark it was hard to tell where they were, but I saw bleachers or something? And there was a theater where it looked like high school students were rehearsing something."

"That is so creepy!"

"That's not the worst of it. They have these portraits of Juliet and her boyfriend in the office. Giant portraits too, like they're commissars."

"There's no way! Show me a pic, Amanda, or it didn't happen... wow, that's so cringe. One time Juliet asked me to come to one of her club parties, and I'm glad I didn't. It's totally a cult."

This was enough for Juliet, and not wishing to confront them for their betrayal, she did the next logical thing and walked back to campus, to her office. They typically kicked people out around 10 from the building unless there was an event going on, but that gave her a few hours to get some work done. Away from her evil roommates and their distractions. She was the only one working there that night, since her vice president and secretary, who would otherwise often be there that late, were traveling to Chicago for a team retreat.

"You should go, Juliet, get out a bit," Frank had told her.

"I have too much work here, being president and all. Are you going?"

"No, I'm busy too. But it's good we're having these meetings more often. They really promote unity."

"Yeah, I guess if you aren't going, I'm not going either."

"That's fine. You don't need to justify not going."

"See you in a few weeks. Back home."

Staring at the security cameras keeping a perpetually watchful eye over her school, Juliet could think of nothing but home. Home was more than just Heller: it was her dad's cooking. It was fog that rolled in every morning. It was people practicing tai chi at the park near her home, her grandma's affection, and unconditional support from everyone around her. Those were what made home home, not a singular place. Here, her office was closest to home: she had a big desk, a portrait of herself, peace and quiet as she'd have if working in her own room, and a sense of control. Her dorm room may as well have been a thimble compared to this: she had a cozy (cozy sounded better than tiny) desk under her bed, and that was it.

She needed to talk to someone. This was bothering her way too much for her own good, and watching the cameras like they were fish tanks wasn't going to fix that. Frank didn't pick up, but he was probably asleep. She wasn't that close with Pranav, and he'd wonder why she was wasting his time. Nobody at UCLA could be trusted in the moment—who knew what lies Emily and Amanda had told them? Next on the list... this would be interesting.

"Hey John," Juliet texted. "Can we talk? I have a dilemma I need some help with." John had been incommunicado with them, to her knowledge, ever since he left Heller, but it was worth a shot. A few minutes later, Juliet's phone rang, and there was John.

"What sadness lengthens your hours?" John began, clearly not in the mood for small talk.

"Oh, hi, long time no see. So just a few hours ago, I was about to enter my dorm when I overheard my roommates gossiping about me inside. Not the expected 'OMG Juliet is so cool I wish I could be like Juliet and be so talented and also snag such a hot boyfriend,' but calling me creepy and everything. I had thought all this time we were building a rapport, but the moment I leave they stab me in the back. I don't know what to do. I've never felt this way before, like I've suddenly lost trust in people."

"I remember Frank said something similar last summer when we got boba together. That he never expected that so many people who were being so nice to him were only being nice because they were scared. Like he was going to execute them by firing squad if they ever crossed him."

"You got boba with him?"

"Yeah, it was nice, just to clear the air."

"No, I mean, boba, the scourge of the civilized world."

"Does anyone outside Heller still take that seriously?"

"Well, sugary drinks are banned at Heller, but outside it's not like it's strictly forbidden—we have to change with the times—but still, I'd have never expected it. For him to drink it with you must have been a special occasion. I sure know I haven't had it since Heller."

"I haven't talked to him since then, but it was a really pleasant social outing we had. I think he's gained a bit of perspective on it all, and even though I don't completely respect his decision to continue with the club, I admire his conviction. But about your dilemma: I'm afraid that this is what happens when you're too good of a person. People who aren't at your level are scared of you. I get this at Bowdoin all the time, even if I'm not being a textbook good person. I lose friends because I disagree with their values."

"But Emily and Amanda are smart people. They aren't simpletons. Sure, I threw Amanda's vodka bottle out the window once and nearly hit someone, but that was a momentary lapse of judgment—on her part and on mine."

"Do you maybe think that when you do things like throw vodka bottles out windows, you create tension?"

"Oh no, they didn't say I created tension. I think they were grateful."

"You're missing my point: it's a very particular philosophy that says throwing the vodka bottle out the window was the best way to handle the situation. There's no one path to being a good person, and even if to you this was an intuitive decision I'm sure made it into one of your meetings, not everyone thinks the same way. And that doesn't make them worse people."

"Let's set this talk about good and bad people aside. What should I do?"

"You have just a few weeks left with your roommates. Come back, say you had a long day at the office, and pretend it didn't happen. Part of being a good person is turning the other cheek and knowing which battles you aren't going to win. This isn't Heller: you can't solve everything by applying pressure. I don't think you're in the wrong here, Juliet, but you're still going to be in the right even if they don't know it."

"I suppose you're right, John. Thanks for talking with me. I appreciated it."

"Any time. It's good to feel needed."

The last time Juliet truly felt needed, she was back home over spring break helping lead teambuilding activities for the club. There were maybe twenty or thirty of them that day, everyone from senior Heller officers to green freshmen, all dressed in business gear, all there with one purpose: to learn from her. Anyone walking by wouldn't understand what it meant to be part of something greater. It was like church—not that she'd ever been there (Juliet's aunt and her family had converted to Christianity, which her mom had decided was finally an excuse to limit contact to their annual family gathering). And if she weren't there, would someone else have stepped up to the plate? Certainly. But that aside, she belonged. She had purpose.

When Juliet got back to her dorm, only Emily was there, intently focused on her laptop; Amanda was probably out partying. Juliet waved, but Emily didn't see. Perhaps it was better that way, that they avoided small talk. There was this beautiful passage in How To Be A Good Person about how the model good person deprived themselves of comfort to spiritually harden themselves; everyone at Heller, even Frank, had decided that no matter what the text said they weren't walking outside in the rain without umbrellas, but the principle remained. It was a potent message, one she had applied at Heller when understanding the tradeoffs that came with being a good person, and it was an even more important message now. To an outsider, the model good person's behavior seemed irrational, if not foolhardy, but if they only knew the principles behind it, they would understand.

Discussion Questions:

Is it Juliet's fault her roommates hate her?

How has Juliet's personal path for "becoming a good person" differed from that other characters have followed or preached?

What tradeoffs have Juliet and other characters experienced as a consequence of trying to become model human beings? Do you think these tradeoffs have been worth it?