September 28

10:48 A.M.

As Charlize walked through the hallway clutching the English paper tightly to her chest, she couldn't help but smile. To be honest, she was quite proud of her insightful analysis on British poetry that she spent many sleepless nights writing, and she was delighted that the harsh Mrs. Cranston felt the same way.

She walked to her locker and placed the paper safely in her binder, making sure not to wrinkle any of the edges. She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror, with a wide smile painted across her face, and she couldn't help but feel beautiful.

She turned around, only to walk straight into Victoria Belle, whom she vaguely knew from her English class.

"Hey Vic! Do you need something?" Charlize asked enthusiastically.

"Hey bitch!" Victoria repeated with the same intensity. "So tell me, how exactly did you do it? Did you sleep with her son? Sleep with her?"

"What?"

"You know, that English grade. Because there's absolutely no way you did that on your own, Tiger."

Victoria giggled loudly and examined her nails. Charlize was stunned silent, and she gazed sideways at her reflection in the locker mirror. Her eyes drifted towards the jagged scar along her left cheek. Tiger. She hadn't heard that nickname in weeks.

Suddenly, she didn't feel beautiful anymore.