In the business of the weekend, I had forgotten to prepare for a presentation I had second period. During homeroom, I study like hell. Thankfully, my project partner, Trinity, made notecards for us. She knew me too well. She knew I would forget to do something.

Our presentation was on what we believed would happen to cause a Third World War.

"Because of China's and the United States' relationship, World War III would commence," I practice, mouthing the words.

"We're going to nail this!" Trinity says with a grin. Her bubbly smile always seemed to make me confident. Trinity was slightly overweight, and some people teased her about it, but she wore it like her grin-with determination, happiness, and her beautiful confidence. I couldn't find a single flaw in her, other than being too nice at times, but that isn't a problem.

Slowly, homeroom goes by after announcements are made. As I walk in the halls, I see people glaring at me. Girls have jealous looks, and boys look at me with... I don't know... Want? I shake the thoughts out of my head. Who would like me? I'm still plain, old Bells.

Out of the blue, a girl I recognize as Theresa walks up to me. I have no classes with her, but I know she's in my grade. I believe we had classes together in middle school. "Hi! Are you the new girl?" Theresa asks.

"No, Theresa. It's Bella. Bella Hart," I reply.

"What the-" Theresa starts. She looks around at the ceilings, her eyes spotting the school's security cameras. "I mean, uh, what the heck? Liar."

"Nope, it's still Bella. I've got to get to class. Bye."

I hurry to Technology and sit through yet another boring lecture. It was all to easy. I don't get why the teacher thought we were so stupid not to know how to open and create files on our computers. We were in the 21st century for Christ's sake.

Class went by like a rocket. My presentation came fast. Maybe my teacher would excuse me from the presentation because of my horrible weekend. Maybe I would faint and not have to do it. Maybe the teacher would "accidentally" get injured.

But I know these weren't going to happen. Mr. Bender was the strictest, toughest, and cruelest teacher. If I were to, say, pass out right now, he would dismiss it like it was none of his business.

"Okay, let's get to it! Take your seats!" he shouts, even though everyone was already seated.

"Any volunteers to present first?" inquires Mr. Bender.

Bridget Stevenson and Brigid Clarks raise their hands, eager to start. For some reason, my school has a lot of students with the same, or similar, names. "No, somebody else," says Mr. Bender. "How about Annabell and Trinity?" he asks. "Wait a minute, where's Annabell?"

"Here, sir," I say, sitting in my normal seat. I came in on time, so I don't understand why he didn't see me.

"Really? Oh, I guess I see the resemblance. Any who, you two better get presenting, or I'll mark your project down one letter grade."

And from there, it went smoothly. There was only one mistake in our entire presentation, and it wasn't even my fault! Trinity messed up one line, but it was a small mistake, and I doubt our teacher would take points off.

I only now realize that this is what Gram meant by "Your abilities will be perfected." I could get used to some As.