Cool-looking dude. Wish I did know him. Costume looks very authentic. He does look vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place him. I’ll check on the boxes again.

Vaguely familiar, thought Rose—but who did he vaguely look like? She went into the bathroom and peered at her own face in the mirror. Not me! She tipped her head ever so slightly. There was a window by the mirror that looked out on a big oak tree. Moonlight drizzled through the leaves of the tree, making the shadows dance in the night. One errant shadow fell through the window and briefly sliced across her face. Her chin darkened the way the beard darkened the lower part of the man’s face. She stiffened. She suddenly felt as if she looked different, like a different person but indeed vaguely familiar. One who she could have been had she been born a boy. The moonlight shifted. The shadow vanished. She felt relief. No, just me. Just me, Rose whispered into the mirror. And possibly a zit on my chin!

She reached into the cupboard. There was a small plastic bottle of Clean and Pure, but it had nearly been used up. She took off the top and shook out a couple of drops. That should do it, she thought, and dabbed some on the suspect. She looked at her reflection in the mirror with the dab of pink lotion on her face. Then, raising her hand slowly, she waved to herself. “Bye-bye, O zit, you little demon pustule, wrecker of beauty and dreams.”

Finally, she went to bed, but it seemed as if her head had hardly hit the pillow before her alarm went off. Darn! She cursed, looking at the clock. Going to school was the last thing she wanted to do. But she had to.

Then three hours after arriving at school she walked into the girls’ restroom. The Mean Queens were there. It was as if they had been lying in wait for her. A total ambush.

I don’t exactly hate you, but if you were on fire and I had water, I’d drink it. The words from the text message slammed in Rose’s head. She froze. The three of them were primping in front of the mirror, dabbing on lip gloss. Which one of them had sent the text and the horrible picture?

“What shade do you think I should wear for the Snow Show?” Brianna asked, leaning toward the mirror.

“Snow Show? It’s not even Halloween yet,” Lisa said.

“Yes, but skating rehearsals start in a couple of weeks. If I make the cut, that is.”

“Of course you will,” Carrie answered. “But oh . . . look who’s here!”

Rose touched the locket lightly. Like a vulture spying carrion, Carrie’s eyes tracked her gesture as Rose reached for it. She desperately wished someone else would come into the restroom.

“What is that around your neck?” Carrie asked.