"Looking good, Thea," Julie Burke, my best friend said to me as she surveyed me from head to toe. She was flopped out on my bed, already creasing her fresh, crisply ironed uniform while I stood in front of the floor-length mirror in my room. I was wearing the same uniform consisting of a beige blazer and navy pleated skirt. Inside I wore a white blouse and for shoes, I settled for some glossy, navy Mary-Janes.

"So glad Bellfort decided to relax their outfit rules," Julie said, stretching out on the bed. "Last year I got detention like six times just for wearing nail polish!"

"Yeah, they wouldn't even let me wear a watch. Thank God they changed the principal. Miss Mortimer is way more fun and upbeat," I said adjusting my headband.

"Totally. We're going to have more freedom this year, whoohoo! Junior year is going to be great!" Julie said, throwing her arms up in enthusiasm. I laughed.

"As long as we keep out of detention this year. It's such a relief my uniform came on time. I definitely didn't want to be the center of attention wearing colored clothes on the first day back again." Julie snorted.

"And here I'd do anything to wear ripped jeans and hoodies. But honestly Thea, you look kinda different in your new uniform," Julie said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking at my reflection.

"I don't know. It feels like—you finally grew into your sleeves. Or... you filled in your uniform," she said.

"You mean I grew up," I admitted. It was true, in a way. Julie noticed it. My mom noticed it. That's why she ordered a new uniform for me.

I had been wearing the same uniform for three years. It felt like when I hit puberty, my body didn't get the message. While the other girls shot up to five feet and started looking like young, curvy women, I remained diminutively petite. Even at fifteen, I could pass for ten. And boy, after a while of basking in the perk of looking unusually young, I hated it.

Looking younger than your age meant not being taken seriously. It also meant people talked down to you like you were a little kid. Being short usually has no perks. And looking baby-faced meant getting way too much unwanted attention from old people and none at all from people my own age. Yes, being eternally childish-looking was awful.

Until this summer.

Something happened to me in the last three months. I read all about puberty and adolescence in science class and have been waiting for them to hit since I was twelve. I had a long wait. But at the end of last semester, after I turned sixteen, I finally reached a ladylike five feet. Eureka. Now I had to go through everybody else's impression of me as a five-foot young woman who no longer looked like a kid.

"Girls! You're going to be late if you don't get going!" My mom hollered from downstairs.

"And by extension, make me late!" My little sister Amber shouted out.

"Come on Jules. You're driving," I said, grabbing my satchel. Jules was my nickname for her as Thea was mine, short for Dorathea (named after my great grandma but everyone knew me as Thea). Jules sighed and rolled off the bed.

"Can't wait for the weekend already," she mumbled.

We ran down, hurriedly munched some of my mom's gourmet French toast, wasted a couple of extra minutes as my mom took first-day photos, and finally made it to the car.

"So adorable!" Mom said, admiring the pictures of me and Amber. She groaned.

"Let's go before Mom decides to make an album!" Amber said and shot out the door. I giggled with Jules and headed out after hugging Mom.

"Okay, so Bellfort Middle School first," I told Jules in the car. "Amber, you got your bag?" Amber was seated in the back, already meddling on her phone.

"Thea, I'm thirteen! You don't have to treat me like a kid!" she said, rolling her eyes.

"Amber Genevieve Gardener, get those hair extensions out of your head right now!" I said, frowning at the multiple Fuchsia streaks my sister had clipped to her cocoa-brown hair. "Mom said you couldn't wear them to school."

"She won't know I wore them," Amber whined.

"She will once I tell her," I said with a smirk.

"Buuut—fine." She grunted and pulled them out of her hair. She was about to put them in her bag, but I held out my hand.

"Uh-uh, give them here," I commanded. "Otherwise you'll just wear them once you're out of the car."

"Seriously?" She groaned and pouted as she handed them over. "If I were in a public school, I could wear whatever I want."

"Thank God you're not. The ragging in public schools is criminal," Jules said judiciously. The car came to a stop outside Amber's school.

"Later dinglehoppers," Amber said, shooting out of the car.

"Amber!" Jules and I exclaimed. The little troublemaker merely grinned and ran through the gates.

"Okay, now that it's just us, let me give you the real dish," Jules said, shaking back her blonde waves. In her eye was a mischievous glint.

"Should I cover my ears?" I asked, slyly glancing at her.

"It's nothing like that!" Jules said hurriedly. I giggled and opened my carton of chocolate milk and began to sip it.

"It's just the latest I picked up from the grapevine," Jules went on. "Ashley and Jonathan are over, Sara's getting back with Jonathan, Karen's on an expedition to hook up with any of the top tier jocks, and—Bellfort's golden boys have declared hunting season." Here I choked and coughed, almost getting milk up my nose.

"Hunting season? What's that supposed to mean?" I stammered between coughs.

"You know. They're out for prey. With homecoming as a deadline, they intend to get girlfriends and break hearts by the end of next month," Jules said.

"Well, that's got nothing to do with us," I said confidently. "Those top-tier golden boys never even notice us."

"Yeah. About that." I turned sharply when I heard the note of nervousness in her voice. She kept her eyes on the road carefully avoiding my gaze.

"Golden boy number one is out for new prey—girls who have never dated before," Jules said. I leaned back, my mouth falling open. This could not be happening!

Before we continue, let me give you a little breakdown of these—golden boys.

Bellfort's golden boys were the richest, snobbiest, and admittedly hottest boys who ruled the upper tier of the popularity group. Most of them were either jocks or A-plus students and girls were always lining up and dying to go out with them. They were considered demigods by the soppy populace.

If you were dating a golden boy, you get instant recognition and respect. Not to mention their attention... but I always thought the pressure of being a golden boy's girlfriend was not worth it. And besides, they're not the most committed. Last year Kay Swallow went out with one of them and almost had a nervous breakdown trying to keep up with them. Of course, she was left with a broken heart and left the school in tears. She moved to Canada. Yes, they're that bad, contrary to their title.

And now they're out to get girls who have never dated! The list for that is just two! Jenny Olsen, whose mom is our math teacher, and me! No way in a million years will the rigid Miss Olsen let her daughter date anyone before the age of twenty-one. Did I just become the girlfriend candidate number one?

"D? D? Thea!" Jules snapped me out of my daze. "We're here." I glanced out the window. We had arrived at Bellfort Academy. What was I in for?

~

"It's gonna be okay, It's gonna be okay, no one will even notice me. I'm sure the golden boys and everyone else won't even remember I exist," I kept murmuring to myself as I walked beside Jules through the school hallway. After all, I had worked hard to take on the role of wallflower and blend in without attracting too much attention since I entered high school. That's all I wanted. And I would keep it that way till graduation. Convincing myself of that proved harder than persuading Amber that pizza made at home was better than pizza from Domino's. It was healthier anyway.

"Look at Karen! She's nuts if she thinks she can get away with that," Jules said, redirecting my attention. I turned and saw Karen Kensington, the Miss Popular of Bellfort strutting down the hallway with her skirt so high and so short it should be a violation. Behind her trailed a band of girls—her loyal stooges. It was all part of the high school heterogenous clique system.

"I hope Miss Olsen catches her. That's a week's detention waiting to happen," Jules said with a mischievous grin.

"She's never dressed so blatantly inappropriate before," I mused. "I wonder—"

"If she's trying to get a certain golden boy's attention? You can bet your bottom dollar on it," Jules said, snapping her fingers. Karen turned towards us almost as if she knew we were talking about her. She glowered at us and moved away. Jules stuck her tongue out at her back and I laughed.

"Real mature Jules," I said.

"Yeah well, she deserves it. That spoiled, stuck-up little diva who thinks she can get anyone in trouble—no decent guy would go out with her. Of course, the golden boys don't have much in the way of propriety and might fall for her in that slutty skirt—speaking of..." Jules and I turned as we heard the sound of the school doors opening with a bang. Three boys walked through with long fluid strides.

"If it isn't Huey, Dewey, and Louie. The golden boys," Jules muttered sarcastically. I stared, mesmerized for a moment, awed by their entrance. They knew how to get everyone's attention, that's for sure. The whole school seemed to hold its breath as they walked in, attracting swoony eyes from all directions. Aside from being tall and looking like Italian supermodels, they seemed to naturally draw everyone in, as the sun keeps the other planets revolving around it. Teachers loved them, girls worshipped them and boys wanted to be them. Ugh, typical kiss-ups.

On the right side was Shane Baxendale, the golden-haired pretty boy with swirling blue eyes and a sparkly white smile that most girls get weak-kneed over. He's a regular Johnny Bravo, constantly trying to woo girls and oozing with confidence. A jock and football captain, he's a hit when shirtless.

On the left was Pierce Hartman. Or rather Prince Hartman. Now he was 'trouble'. He spelled 'broken heart'. He's got that effortless cool lethargic look that can be deceptive—he's secretly a mastermind for getting in and out of trouble while simultaneously being an A-student. Smooth-talking Casanova, that's what I call him. Not that I've ever talked to him. With long wavy locks of chocolate-colored hair tumbling down his forehead, just falling short of his icy blue eyes, most girls found him the romantic type. But apart from vague interest, he's never taken any girl seriously even though he's considered a dating playboy.

And then there's Matteo Sterling, the king of Bellfort's golden boys. The perfect specimen, the masterpiece of masculinity, he has it all. Raven-haired and brown-eyed, he was in every girl's dream, though I can't say he's ever been in mine. I've never really seen him up close. But from what I heard, he has the heart of a prince, is a hilarious prankster, and is deliciously seductive. Ugh.

The one drawback about him—he's never dated anyone from Bellfort. They say he's picky and has ridiculously high standards when it comes to girls. There were rumors that he had been seen with someone from Briars High, the neighboring school but it soon fizzled out for lack of proof. Did I care about any of that? No siree.

"Do you feel that?" Jules asked me with an exaggerated look of awe. "It's like the sun deities came out and shone on us ordinary mortals." I burst out in laughter. Immediately I felt eyes on me and I self-consciously looked around. To my mortification, the golden boys were staring right at me as if I were a shiny new exhibit at a museum. I gave a little start and ducked behind my locker.

"Jules! Tell me if they stopped staring. Did they go away?" I whispered to her from inside my locker.

"Uh, no, and we have a problem," she said nervously. I bit my lip. The last time Jules sounded this nervous was when she came to school without studying for the end-of-the-semester math test.

"Why? What is it?" I asked peeping out cautiously.

"They're coming this way!" She hissed out of the corner of her lips. I turned quickly and there they were, approaching just a few feet away from me. I swallowed. Inwardly I groaned. There goes my plan to stay out of sight and out of mind.

I leaned back against my locker door without thinking and it suddenly slammed shut. I got startled and tried to turn around. And that's when I realized what an embarrassing situation I was in—my hair got wedged in between the locker door!

"Jules! Jules, I'm stuck!" I whispered desperately. I did NOT want the golden boys' attention on me in a normal situation, let alone an embarrassing one!

"Oh crap, you got that stuck real bad—" Jules said, trying to help me get my hair out. We tried to open the locker but for some reason, it got jammed—stubbornly jammed. This was bad. I was getting more desperate by the moment.

"Jules, this isn't working! Maybe I should—"

"Need a hand there, cupcake?" A creamy drawling voice interrupted me. I looked up and saw the golden boys right in front of me, Pierce Hartman leaning forward with his hands behind his back. Oh, so mortifying! I wished I could melt into the floor and disappear.

"Looks like you're stuck," Matteo Sterling stated, squinting at my hair. I began to tug frantically at my hair.

"No, no, I'm not stuck," I squeaked quickly, wishing my hair would come loose. For the love of everything, of all the days I had to get my hair caught in a locker, why today?

"Here let me—" Jules said and gave my hair a good tug. I yelped in pain. Jules withdrew looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry! I thought that would work!" she said fretfully. Students were stopping to stare with suppressed laughs around us. I could see Karen giggling at me from nearby and I wished I could turn invisible.

"You're gonna hurt her if you try it that way," Matteo said to Jules.

"Hold on. You grab her hair, I'll get the locker," Pierce said to Matteo. I shrank back as I saw a pair of hands come around my head.

"Hey!" I protested. After all, they had no reason to get involved, why should they help me? That just meant more attention!

"Relax. I promise it won't hurt." The pale face of Matteo Sterling came an inch from mine. I felt him gently take my hair in his hand. For the first time, I saw him up close. Real close. So close I could feel his warm breath. And to my surprise, my heart started racing. I found myself holding my breath.

Pierce fiddled about for a minute and then miraculously got the locker open. I sighed in relief. I could see Karen's face stiff with jealousy from the corner of my eye and I knew why. Here I wanted to get away from the golden boys' attention and she was trying the exact opposite!

"There. All done with no casualties," Matteo said with a satisfied smile. Pierce grinned at me.

"Try not to block Matt's locker again, okay, cupcake?" he said, leaning jauntily against the locker. I blinked.

"Your—locker?" I asked in bewilderment. Matteo opened the locker next to mine to reveal his things.

"Yeah, yeah, and I think we've wasted enough time here—let's go before coach finds our package!" Shane said impatiently. I felt a shove and I was pushed to the side as Karen took my place in front of them.

"Heh, heh, yeah that was so funny. It's great to see you, Matteo! Did you have a great summer?" she simpered. Jules snorted.

"Commence the sucking up," she said to me with disgust on her face. "At least they got you free. You okay?"

"Yeah," I said, straightening myself, "I'm fine. Let's hurry and get out of here. I've had enough embarrassment for one day." We walked off, careful to avoid the golden boys' eyes. But we hadn't gotten far enough for me not to hear a reproachful remark from Pierce.

"She didn't even say thank you..."

~

I was bent over my history book later, trying to figure out how to get a new locker. Because not for a million bucks am I gonna keep a locker next to Matteo Sterling! How in the world did that even happen? Last semester I had a locker next to Aaron Finn, the chess club nerd. When did Matteo Sterling get a locker next to mine?

I had to figure out who to swap with. I felt a nudge on my right side and looked up. Jules was flapping a paper at me. I quickly glanced at Mr. Brockton to make sure he wasn't looking this way and grabbed the paper. It was a note from Jules.

What are you going to do about your locker? You're not staying next to Sterling, right? Yeah, that's what I'm trying to sort out in my head. I quickly wrote my answer and passed it back to her.

Working on it. She gave me a skeptical look, wrote something, and passed the note back to me.

The longer you wait the more complicated things are going to get. You better change lockers by first break. I sighed. She was right. But who to swap with? True, there was no shortage of willing girls who would die for a locker next to the golden prince. And then it struck me. I glanced at the strawberry blonde head three rows in front of me on the left. Karen Kensington. The perfect candidate. I can definitely strike a deal with her. She'd do anything for a locker next to Matteo! And I can get away from all the attention in the bargain.

Jules saw me smile as I worked out my plan and raised an eyebrow at me.

"D, you're creeping me out. What's with the smile?" She whispered. I winked at her and passed the note back to her with my answer.

I've got the perfect plan.

"Miss Gardener, I'm glad to see you find history amusing. Would you mind telling me who discovered America before Christopher Columbus?" Shoot, Mr. Brockton singled me out. I quickly wracked my brain for the answer.

"Oh, that would be Leif Errikson the Viking chief in the year 1000 A.D., Mr. Brockton, sir," I said meekly. He grunted, seemingly satisfied as he scratched his balding head and turned to question someone else. I exhaled in relief. Jules gave me a thumbs up mouthing 'nice save'. Yeah, but I might not be this lucky next time. I better focus for now. I already had a brilliant plan anyway.

First break came later and I sought out Karen. Normally I wouldn't even think twice about talking to her about anything. Yeah, I couldn't stand her and the feeling was mutual. But with Jules, it's a whole other story. The two of them have been hashing it out since then, always trying to think up the best witty putdowns. Once Miss Olsen even had to split those two apart in a fight in second grade. Long story.

It started with Karen. I don't know why but that girl loves to get other people in trouble. In second grade she squeezed her juice box all over my head because I had (unknowingly) bought the last giant chocolate chip cookie from the cafeteria which she wanted. Of course, I started to bawl, and Jules, jumping in on my behalf as a loyal best friend, pushed her down saying she did that on purpose. Karen retaliated by punching her and it ended up as a roll in the mud wrestle. It's a good thing Jules was only six. Otherwise, she would have been expelled—she bit Karen on the arm, and Karen had pulled some of her hair out in return. Six-year-olds can get dirty in a fight.

Anyway, back to the present day.

I saw Karen heading towards the girls' bathroom. Probably to fix her makeup, she does that every hour. I tried to follow but a tall gangly figure blocked my path.

"Hey, Thea! Jules said you had math before break. I need a favor." Tom Harrison, president of the photography club appeared in front of me, his camera dangling from his neck. He was one of those geeky adorkable guys who got along with everyone. He was like a brother to me and Jules, although she playfully uses him more as a punching bag every time he doesn't get her sarcasm.

"Tom, really not a good time. I have to find Karen and—"

"Karen? Why? What did she do to now?" he asked, pushing his ever-falling glasses up his nose.

"Nothing, I—"

"Is there going to be another catfight?" Tom's eyes actually looked excited at the thought. I stared at him in disbelief.

"No, silly! I can't believe you would think that! We're juniors! We're too old for that," I said with a frown.

"Aww, too bad. It would have made a great story... anyway, I came here to ask you—"

"We can talk later Tom, I really have to talk to Karen—" I interrupted him, but he flapped his hands.

"I know, I know, this will just take a second. I need some shots of students for the back-to-school article for the school website and paper. Would you mind posing for me?" I groaned.

"Okay, fine, but I don't know why you didn't just pick one of the more photogenic girls like Sara or Jenny. Or even Karen, she loves the camera," I said, adjusting myself to a casual pose. Tom made a disgusted sound.

"Ugh, half the photography club walls are covered with her duckface. And I already got snaps of Jules. I want pictures of Bellfort's newest beauty," Tom said, bringing his camera up and snapping a picture of me. For a moment I blinked, wondering if I misheard him.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked, leaning forward.

"You know, you look different. It's like you debuted or something. You look really pretty now," Tom said in such a matter-of-fact voice that I didn't think he even blushed to say it. He was way too blunt at times and hearing a compliment from Tom was like hearing it from a brother.

"There. That should do it," he said checking his camera. Curiosity made me go over to check how my photos looked.

"You see? You look different," he said, swiping through photos from last year and now. I saw it then—what Jules had pointed out to me this morning. I looked different. I couldn't put my finger on it but I definitely didn't look like the baby-faced undergrown kid I was for the last few years. I changed. I had always wanted to grow up, to look my age, to be taken seriously, like a young adult. Now that my wish came true, what was I in for? Would things get better or worse?

"Okay, I'm off to get these printed. See you at lunch!" Tom said and scrambled off. I stood there for a moment, trying to get used to the fact that I got my wish. And the fact that Tom called me 'pretty'. Wow, so this is what it's like to be a woman! I shook my head. I had almost forgotten about my quest—to swap lockers with Karen. I geared myself up and walked to the girls' bathroom.