Belinda looked throughout her closet, searching for something to wear. Tomorrow was her birthday, so she needed something besides her regular green shirt and red skirt. To Belinda's dismay, the only suitable outfit she had was a yellow dress. Not something that was really her style, but it'd have to do.

She sighed in frustration and yanked the dress from its hook to lay it out on her bed. "Whatever," she mumbled. Looking it over, she admitted to herself it wasn't a bad-looking dress. Kind of pretty, really. It was only the color that bothered her. She tried to remember it'd only be for a day. Tomorrow, she'd be a teenager and she could get a job to make her own money. Then, she could finally buy her own clothes.

Finished with her fashion analysis, Belinda hung the dress back in her closet, unknowingly slamming the doors shut after she did so. The sudden noise gained the attention of Puck, her older brother, and he peeked into her room to see what was going on.

"Hey, Bot-" Belinda growled at the sound of his voice. "Belinda. I'm sorry. I'm still not used to that."

"Figures," she muttered under her breath. Only her best friend, Desdemona, had taken immediately to the name change. Everyone else still called her "Bottom" by mistake and had to correct themselves if she didn't. She resented her birth parents for giving it to her and resented her adoptive parents for not changing it. Really, how could anyone have thought it was a good idea to call their child by a name that meant "butt"?

"It'll grow on me sooner or later," Puck tried to assure her. Her refusal to look up from the floor told him he failed. She wordlessly stomped over to her bed and sat herself on it, allowing her back to face Puck.

Puck had never been good at the big brother role, but he tried nonetheless. The truth was he didn't understand Belinda beyond her being his bratty sister. His friends told him that's what most little siblings were like, but from his point-of-view, Belinda didn't seem to want so much as to be part of their family. She refused to even paint her face like he and their parents did. Of course, face paint doesn't make a family, but she could've tried, couldn't she?

"Umm...well...you know, tomorrow's your birthday and...and..."

"And?" she growled, turning halfway to glare at him.

"Uh...I guess you don't want to talk right now. Never mind. Uh, good night!"

He closed her door and quickly walked away, finally leaving Belinda all alone. For what felt like a long time, she glared at that door, as if its mere presence was somehow offensive. In a sudden fit of anger, she heaved her teddy bear at it and threw herself beneath her comforter.

"Good night!"