Disclaimer: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to Meg Cabot. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

06/09/2013 AN: Oh dear, this was bad. I've edited the whole story and will be uploading it again. Thanks to all the people who have reviewed and given me support through the first draft. It's not going to be fantastically written which rich descriptions, but I felt like the story needed sorting out and I wasn't happy to leave it in first and third person. It's not going to be much longer than it is now, perhaps 15k so it's still a short story.

Pretty, Popular and Partnered

"Every girl wants to be pretty, popular and partnered."

1. Steph

I, Poppy Lake, need help.

I seem incapable of functioning like a normal teenage girl; I'm not pretty, popular and I've never so much as held a boy's hand let alone had a boyfriend. Wherever girls learn how to do this stuff, I need to find out. Do they have some secret society or something where they discover these skills? I'm thirteen and I hardly know how make friends.

Funnily enough, that's almost the least of my worries. My hair has not grown at all in the last two months and the little hair I have is frizzy and dull. I can't wake up without it looking like a puffball and my attempts to grow it out have failed. The flakes of dry skin on my legs were bugging me so I tried to scrap them off but they were everywhere and rubbing my hand up and down my shin only revealed I needed to shave my legs. At some point, my thighs and tummy had expanded without me noticing (although how I missed that I don't know) and now I looked like an elephant. Unfortunately, my ears support this look by being perpendicular to my head.

I pulled my trousers back down and caught sight of at least another ten spots emerging on my forehead, chin and neck. I've tried squeezing them, putting toothpaste on them and even skipping chocolate for two weeks, but spots remain stubbornly there whatever I do. Why does my body feel the need to punish me so much?

I threw myself on my bed so I wouldn't have to look at my horrible, imperfect face in the mirror any more. "Urgh," I moaned into the covers. There was a lot going wrong in my life:

My face is hideous;

I'm fat;

None of the clothes I own are remotely stylish;

I have never been asked out;

The most popular girl at school hates me;

And I fancy her boyfriend.

"Poppy, Poppy!" my mum's bellowing tones echoed from downstairs. "She's here."

She: the pretty American girl who already had a boyfriend and was well settled in life. Well that's how she seemed when she spoke to me on webcam. Steph Landry was coming to England for university and needed a place to stay so Mum offered, having been rid of my playboy brother for a year already. She said that it was lonely in the house and it would be good for me to get some teenage company, although at nineteen, Steph was hardly a teenager anymore.

My brother had everything he wanted. He was the model student; captain of the football team, rugby team, cricket team, korfball team, the list was endless. Amidst all of that, he still managed to keep up a busy social life, going out with his friends pretty much every weekend.

No one knew we were brother and sister at school, I don't think there was anyone who actually knew both of us, besides family and teachers. We operated in such different social circles at school - well he did, I didn't really have much of a social circle in the first place. I was kind of the loner, the tagalong. The one who got bullied for not wearing makeup and wearing brightly coloured ribbons in her hair.

"Poppy! Come down this instant and help bring Steph's stuff in!" shouted Mum from downstairs. I could hear the strain in her voice as she tried to shout politely at me in front of our guest. At least she wouldn't be able to tell me off so much now that Steph was here, she'd never embarrass herself like that. I dragged myself out of bed and bounded down the stairs two at a time, before my mum came up here and dragged me down herself. I wasn't really in the mood to meet anyone new, especially as they say people's first impressions of you are formed within ninety seconds of meeting you, but I didn't have a choice. I had been warned about this ages ago.

Even though everyone says never judge a book by its cover, I did it anyway because everyone did it even if they said they didn't. Steph was different in person. She had body and luggage and she was a whole person rather than just a face on my computer. She smiled when she saw me and ignoring my undignified arrival, said cheerfully, "Hi, I'm Steph." She was still smiling.

My mouth was slightly open in shock and I hurried to reply before she thought I was mentally disabled, "Um hi, Poppy Lake." My hand automatically shot out at the introduction but I pulled it away when I realised you probably didn't shake hands with a lady. I'd only ever shook hands with my dad's male boss when he came over for dinner.

Steph laughed at seeing my hand move forward and backward slightly and I panicked slightly, afraid I had committed a social faux pas, but she smiled dismissively and said, "Never mind, it's not something I do either."

I breathed a mental sigh of relief.

I did as my mum bid and led Steph up to her room. She would be staying in my brother's room, unfortunately for her. I pushed the door open embarrassed about the smell of boy, but thankfully Mum had cleaned it and the air was fresh with fragrance. "Uh, this is Jamie's room," I described, waving my hand around the room. "He's gone to uni, doing a doctorate so he'll be gone a while. Don't worry about him coming to stay - he doesn't. If you need me, my room's next door. Ciao."

I escaped before Steph could say anything else. That was enough social interaction for one go.

-PL-

It was later in the when I spoke to Steph again. She knocked quietly on my door and opened it a crack. Peering in she whispered, "Is it okay to come in?"

"Yeah sure," I said, moving over so she would have space to sit on my bed. Once I had got over the initial adrenaline of meeting her in person, I was fine.

"Your room's nice," she commented looking round. That's something all people to say nice, my room was a mess. I don't think she had anything to say because she was still looking around my room for something to talk about. "Is that your boyfriend? He's cute," she asked, eyes catching a photo from a family skiing trip to Austria.

"Um no, that's my brother." I replied uncomfortably, not because she called my brother cute, I was used to that, but because no thirteen year old I knew had still not had a boyfriend. I had never been asked out, and the one boy who I'd got the courage to ask out humiliated me in front of the entire school. Not an experience I would like to repeat. Life lesson learnt: never ask someone out in a public location where lots of people you know might suddenly appear. Basically, don't do it in school.

Steph looked uncomfortable as she sat down on my bed, horrified by her misunderstanding.

"It's cool don't worry about it," I tried to pull off a breezy laugh to make her feel more comfortable but it didn't quite work and came out slightly flat. There was a long awkward pause. "It happens all the time, we look nothing alike." I had inherited none of his good looks. Or maybe I had and they just looked good on boys.

"Still, that must be awkward right?" asked Steph.

"Well," I debated telling this grown up woman my secret teenage troubles. "It's more because they can't believe someone as good looking as Jamie would ever pick someone as ugly as me."

"Oh." She summed it up in one word. It was there in her face. When someone doesn't immediately start offering you compliments after you say something like that you know you're a lost cause. I should be used to it by now but tears still pricked at my eyes. I couldn't sit under Steph's gaze so I began rearranging ornaments on my windowsill.

She carried on scrutinising me; I could feel her gaze on my back. "I've been there. I know how to help. One sec." She ran into her room – well Jamie's room, but her room now - and after a few minutes of searching in suitcases, came back in with a tattered book. "Check this out," she said tossing the book to me. "But don't take it too seriously, trust me. I know from experience."

I still hadn't turned around and Steph must have gathered she upset me as she quietly closed the door and left. I couldn't look at the book, not yet.