I don't exactly know what happened. For the longest time, I would wake up in the morning and throw on whatever was closest, stopping only to make sure it didn't clash too excessively. I wasn't like other girls who spent hours getting their hair and makeup just right. I ran a brush through my brown waves and slung them into a ponytail, a braid if I felt fancy.

But one day I looked down at my fourteen-year-old self and realized I had put effort into what I was wearing. That I had actually taken a moment to pick out a green sweater that I felt looked nice with my favorite yellow dress. That I was wearing a necklace, which I had previously reserved only for special occasions when I was forced to look nice. That I had left my hair loose, the waves relaxing gently over my shoulders.

I looked into the mirror, and I felt pretty.

And I relished it.

I went to school, and the feeling stayed with me all day. I went along with it, even though I felt like such a girly girl, expecting that novel emotion to disappear the next morning. It did, but I looked down a week later and discovered it had happened again.

Slowly, something shifted. The frequency changed from one time a week to two or three times, to eventually every day.

At the same time, though, I noticed something else happening.

It was mostly small. Some giggles as I passed by Hazel and her gang, which always made me wonder what was so funny until I realized it was me. A couple of "accidental" bumps. Whispered words in the hallway or in class, things like "What are you wearing?" or "That's a tragic excuse for a dress." from people that vanished when I turned to look.

At first, it didn't faze me. I kept on enjoying this new found interest in my appearance, mostly because I knew it was only Hazel's gang.

Then it spread.

I got to school late one morning, having missed my normal bus and being forced to wait for the next. To make matters worse, I had left the project I'd sacrificed most of that night's sleep on sitting in my room. Then, on my way to class, I'd tripped and hit my head on the handle of a locker, which gave me a nice welt just under my hairline. I was used to pain and it didn't hurt that much, but I missed a whole hour of notes getting ice to bring down the swelling. Needless to say, by the time school was over I was miserable. But just as I was leaving my 6th hour, I heard a comment behind me, "Nice face, klutz." I'd been expecting it all day, so I turned around ready to glare at Hazel, instead seeing Chloe, my friend who I always ate lunch with. Shocked, I stood there, eyes wide as she shoved me out of the way like I'd never mattered at all.

By the time I got to Targent Headquarters of London, I'd had enough of the day. I suppose it showed, too, because the first thing Sarah asked when she saw me was, "Are you alright?"

Assuming she was talking about my forehead, still swollen and pink, I replied, "Yeah, I just hit my head on a locker."

"No, not that. You look like you're about to cry." These words, combined with her concerned expression, made me realize just how much I did want to burst into tears.

I fought with myself. I had to stay strong. I couldn't cry. I'd managed for the past few weeks without being too hurt, what was so different this time?

I took some deep breaths and swallowed the lump in my throat before answering, "I'm fine." I had intended to leave it at that, but something about her expression, so concerned and gentle, made me continue. "I just had a really bad day."

We had met in one of the padded practice rooms since we were supposed to start working on a new fighting style. Sarah sat down on the red foam, asking "Do you want to talk about it?" I nodded, and sat down next to her, explaining my miserable day and the weeks that had led up to it.

"I'm sorry...I probably bored you with all this." I was surprised at how much better I felt after talking about it; Something had stopped me every time I'd wanted to say anything to Nat, my usual confidant, though I couldn't quite figure out what.

"Emmy, I'm always here if you need to talk, alright?" She was smiling and looking right in my eyes as we stood up.

"Thank you." She wrapped her arms around me and I hugged back.

We stayed like that for a moment, before she pulled away and said, "Are you ready to tackle that new style?" I grinned, nodding, and we got right to work.

That next week, I went to school feeling happy and free. Most of the time, the comments didn't bother me, except for when they came from Chloe.

Slowly, though, they got more frequent. They came from everywhere and everyone. People I didn't know, people I thought were my friends. Hazel had gotten them all to join in.

At least, all but two.

During lunch one day, I was sitting at my usual corner when Hazel and two other girls, the same ones that had pushed me into that closet at Pinefield, came up to say their comments to my face, something they'd started doing that week.

"Hey, ugly." Hazel tossed her hair and smirked. "Enjoying your island of solitude?" I sighed, looking down the table and noticing I was the only one there, as usual. When I didn't respond, she kept going. "Maybe they all just want to stay away from your awful fashion sense. It might be contagious, after all!" She and her friends laughed as I looked down, trying to hide my embarrassed blush.

She opened her mouth to say more but was cut off by a voice I recognized. "Leave her alone!" Shocked, I lifted my head to see Nat scowling.

"What makes you think I would listen to you?" Hazel said laughingly.

"Just stop." Leonard's deep voice silenced her mid-giggle. I felt my blush deepen as I watched them engage in a staring contest. Finally, Hazel broke off.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes before leaning down and whispering in my ear, "Don't worry. They won't be able to save you from the truth forever," before stalking off with her friends.

We all watched for a moment, then the two boys sat down across from me. Nat, noticing my downcast expression, said, "Don't let them get to you; they're lying." His voice was comforting.

I took a moment to compose myself before it was my turn to lie. "I know. Thanks, though." I put on a fake smile, which didn't seem to fool either of them entirely, but thankfully they let it slide.

"How long have you been sitting by yourself, Em?" Leonard asked, using the nickname he'd been calling me since we had first met, with a concerned look that made my stomach flutter.

"Only about a week."

"You should have told me! I would've been happy to sit with you!" My brother frowned.

I glanced down before replying, "I didn't think about it. But thank you for staying now." I gave a sheepish smile. We all dived into our lunches, and struck up casual conversation about classes, the boys, I hoped, forgetting about the confrontation.

But I couldn't get those words out of my mind. "They won't be able to save you from the truth forever." Who was lying here: Nat or Hazel? I trusted my brother more, but I wasn't sure if he would bend the truth to preserve my feelings. Plus, I couldn't deny that I was being alienated for some reason, and Hazel's explanations, at their core, may have been right.

I don't know how I would have made it through high school, especially my freshman year, without the three of them. I could always count on Nat to reassure me at least a little, even if I denied the pain of it all. Sarah was always there to listen when I needed to talk, willing to put aside our training for a few minutes so I could vent my frustrations. She also helped encourage me, and gave me advice from time to time.

And Leonard...My life would have been very different if not for him. Especially after a certain autumn event...

Author's Note: I don't really want to say "To be continued", but that's kinda how it feels, since this "autumn event" is the topic of the next chapter. I did put in a tiny bit of foreshadowing, so I'm curious if you have any guesses about what it is. ;) This chapter, though, happens to be the one that "goes with" the cover pic. :D It's exciting to finally get it up.

Luckily, I have never experienced bullying. Because of this, though, I'm not sure how well I wrote Hazel here, or Emmy's response. Anything anyone has to say about that would be appreciated. :D

Thanks for reading, guys! :)