The seventh graders were inviting us sixth graders to the dance they were hosting! We didn’t know this happened every year. The Karis and Jessis were so excited. So was I, but I had to hide it. I had some tricks up my sleeve though: I had been saving magazine articles in a pink binder to help me prep for something like this. Every opportunity to break out of my everyday rut was an opportunity to show the world the real me. I imagined myself walking in and all the boys peering out from lowered shades, Miami Vice style, to see who the new hot girl was. The first Saturday night in November was the night. Everyone in my school hated me, from the principal down to the lowliest janitor who I swore pushed his broomfuls of dirt at me, but that did not stop me from believing in the possibility of change. I begged my mother to unground me for just that one night. Shockingly, she relented. I rummaged through Valencia’s closet, trying to find something that would turn my puny, flat-chested self into a beautiful movie star.
