And once she’d been labeled ugly, there was no going back. Or so she’d thought. As luck would have it, two weeks after her surgery, Cameron’s family moved from La Jolla to Bel Air. All she’d ever wanted was to fade into the background, to be ignored rather than ridiculed, and now that she was transferring schools in September, she’d finally have that chance.

Imagine the scene: Cameron with her new nose, wandering through the halls at a different school, in her regulation navy blue blazer, starched white shirt, and itchy gray skirt. Yes, her uniform was horribly unstylish, but it was also just like everyone else’s. She was blissfully anonymous and had never felt so free.

It wasn’t until third-period Spanish class that everything started breaking down. Cameron sat at the back of the room, but for some reason two guys up front kept glancing back at her. They were cute, and that made her nervous. Cameron tried to ignore them. She focused on the blackboard, where her teacher, Señora Pesarro, was outlining students’ responsibilities for the year: homework every night, an oral presentation each quarter, a term paper on Latin American history or literature...

Soon the stares escalated to whispers.

More students were in on it too. A girl with perfect, long, dark, curly hair and beautiful green eyes glanced over her shoulder at Cameron and giggled. Then she leaned over and whispered to the girl next to her.

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This one had straight red hair that stopped midway down her back. She wore blue and pink PUMAS rather than the school-sanctioned dark loafers.

Cameron could only think the worst—that the girls already hated her. But how had it happened so quickly? As memories from La Jolla flooded back, Cameron bit down on the insides of her cheeks and willed herself not to cry.

As soon as class ended, she ducked into the girls’ bathroom. Since it was empty, she was able to stare at herself in the mirror and assess. Her new haircut framed her face in freshly dyed, blond, shoulder-length wisps. She’d shed her braces weeks before, and there was nothing caught in her teeth, which were now straight and gleaming white. She had a decent tan, and with her new nose, her big blue eyes were even more striking. As far as she could tell, she was completely normal-looking, so why the laughter?

Cameron wondered ... Was there something in her posture that said, I’m ugly, or at least, I was ugly? La Jolla was one hundred and twenty-five miles from Bel Air, but had word traveled? Would she have to transfer again? Would her parents consider sending her to boarding school? Because maybe she’d have better luck out of state...

Suddenly the door flew open and in walked the dark haired girl from Spanish class. Cameron pretended to be busy. Digging around in her backpack, she pulled out a lipstick and popped off the cap.

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