Into the Wild

A school rumour made me think I was a bad kid, so I acted like one. Then a canoe trip-and an unexpected encounter-changed everything

- HANNAH GRIFFIN

WHEN I WAS 13, I LEARNED that I was a bad kid. In the fifth grade, I had switched from a public school to an all-girls private school in Toronto, and I didn't fit in. It took some time, but I eventually made friends. I was hanging out after class with one of them and a boy from a nearby school when my friend suggested that we sneak into the grad lounge.

The grad lounge was a hallowed space reserved for 12th graders. I'd never been inside. We entered the school, and I slowly opened the lounge door to find a room filled with mismatched couches, blazers strewn about. The feeling of being where we weren't allowed was exhilarating, but before we could drink it all in, a 12th grader caught sight of us and told us to get lost.

A few weeks later, I noticed some older girls I didn't know staring at me in the halls. Then I heard the rumour for the first time: my friend and I had apparently been found in the lounge engaged in a sexual act with a boy. The rumour grew more exaggerated in each retelling, and I was powerless to control it.

I'd never even kissed anyone. How could people say those things about me? I cried after school and sometimes at school. My peers had decided who I was, and I felt helpless to escape it, so I leaned in to their idea of me. If everyone thought I was a bad kid, that's what I'd be. I snuck out at night to smoke pot with friends, shoplifted and stole money from my parents.