"You see her?" Dylan asks. I switch my gaze from him to the hallway looking for the girl Dylan's so in love with. My gaze lands on Jessica Shores, the prettiest girl in school. I smile. She's pretty cool in my book. "Yeah. You should go talk to her." I suggest. He shakes his head. "Oh come on! I bet she likes you." I say. He sighs. "No. I don't think so."

I sigh. "Okay." The bell rings and I rush to class, hoping Dylan would follow. I sit in the desk closest to the door. Dylan isn't with me. I look around, maybe he say with Jessica. But no. He's not even in the classroom.

Dylan's been different this year. During the summer, I lost a lot of weight and got really pretty. I'm not self conscious anymore. Dylan used to be all relaxed and go-with-the-flow. Now he's always nervous and awkward. It's a big change for both of us.

"Ms. Nelson?" I snap my head up at my teacher. He glances at the board and then at me. I sigh and look at the algebra problem on the board. Doing quick mental math, I say, "X is less than or equal to sixteen." He nods and turns back to the board. "Ms. Nelson. Just because your father is-" he gets cut off. "Which one?!" A boy from the back of the room yells. Mr. Richards glares at the boy but the damage has been done.

Everyone knows my dads. They're pretty well known in our small town. It's just that they're divorced. Well, not legally. Pop walked out four years ago with no explanation whatsoever. I live with Mike, my Dad. But Mr. Richards knows my Pop, Shane. That's why my last name isn't Nelson-Mitchell anymore. I'm only Anastasia Nelson.

I stand up from my seat and exit the classroom. I head to the bathroom, pulling out my phone.

Laney-Lynn: Dyl? Where are you?

Dyl the Flat Bill: Bathroom.

Laney-Lynn: Okay.

I cross over to the guy's bathroom. I knock on each stall until Dylan comes out of one. "Oh Ana! What's wrong?" He wipes something off my face. A tear. I didnt even know I was crying. "Some guy's just being a jerk." I answer. He sighs. His eyes flicker around the bathroom, almost as if he were thinking hard about something. Then e opens his mouth but closes it. I watch him and think, He seems at war with himself.

Finally, he grasps my shoulders and turns me to look at the old, dirty mirror.

"You see her?"