I got a lot of stares the minute I walked through the double doors. Not surprising. Grandma Dotty had been so enthusiastic about the “punk” style I was rocking that I decided I might as well play it up. Before I left the apartment, I’d pulled my hair back with a sparkly barrette.
I spotted Rhonda at her locker, so I put my face down and steered in the other direction. Not to be mean—I just didn’t feel like answering ten zillion questions about my hair. But with my head down like that, I nearly ran right into someone else.
“Sorry,” I said as I swerved to avoid slamming into Sam Marks.
He stopped in his tracks. “Wow!” he said when he realized it was me, which made me blush. “You look like…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Like a leaf… with sparkly dew on it.”
“Um, thanks.” I hadn’t been expecting a compliment—at least, I thought it was a compliment—and didn’t really know how to handle it. “You look nice too,” I said, which didn’t make any sense at all. He was just wearing a T-shirt and jeans.
And then I heard the voice I’d been expecting—and dreading.
“Oh my gawd!” Missy screeched. “She went from Weedwacker to weed!”
Okay, so even though I knew I looked like I was about to start sprouting dandelions, the dig still really hurt, coming from Missy.
I cringed as the Princesses surrounded me. “Now her hair matches her face—ugly,” Brittany said.
“I thought her hairstyle was bad before,” Bethany agreed.
“Cut it out, you guys,” Sam said, which made me squirm even more than the insults did. I didn’t want him to hear this.
But Missy just ignored him. She pursed her lips. “She’s having a bad hair year.”
Do they rehearse this stuff at home?
Then Missy got a really smug little smile on her face. It was a smile I did not like at all. “Not only is her hair ugly,” she said dramatically, “it’s just really limp.”
The other Princesses cracked up while I fought back tears. My face burned, and my blood boiled like acid through my whole body. I felt like I was going to dissolve.
“Shut up!” Sam shouted.
Missy stared at him. I stared at him. I think everyone was staring at him.
“You think you’re so great, Missy,” Sam went on. “But everyone just hates your guts!”
Well, it wasn’t quite like that. It was more like this:
Missy tossed her hair and said, “Oh, did you overhear that, Sam?” she asked. “It must be because your ears are so big.”
Sam shook his head at her, like she was an annoying piece of toilet paper that kept getting stuck to his shoe, no matter what he did. Then he turned to me. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.
I tried to talk. I really tried. I opened my mouth. I licked my lips. But nothing would come out. Somehow, Sam being nice to me made the Princesses’ meanness worse, and I couldn’t take it. I just couldn’t.
And so I ran.