As Megan and her posse marched straight toward me, I had a bad feeling.  My place at school was not with the cool girls.

“Amber, why did you send me that text?” Megan asked.

“What text?”  Seriously, I had no idea what she was talking about.  I don’t even know her cell phone number.  Those golden numbers would not be given to someone like me.

She glanced at her friends, her forehead all scrunched up.  “Show her your phone,” they chimed in.  I cringed when I saw a text from my cell number.

nice freckles. r u a connect the dots? lol.

“I didn’t send that Megan, honestly.”  I wouldn’t mess with her and her friends.  They’re the Miss Perfects of the 6th grade.  Their trendy clothes look fresh out of a magazine, their lip gloss is perfectly applied, and they never have bad hair days.  My life is a bad hair day, and my shapeless clothes look like I just stepped out of the gym.

“It’s so wrong of you to do that to her,” one of the Perfect’s sneered as they stormed away.  Megan looked back once more before they were out of sight.  She looked sad, and I felt lousy knowing she thought I had done that to her.

Later, while walking toward the lunch room, my friend Kurt caught up with me.  “Nice going with the message you sent Megan.”  Great, everyone knew?  I’m ruined.  I ignored him and kept walking.  “Don’t worry, she deserved it,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I didn’t send it, and why would she deserve it?”

“Don’t forget, I asked her to the school dance tonight.  She turned me down without even thinking about it.”

I looked at Kurt with new understanding.  “Did you send that message from my phone?”

Kurt said, “No.”  But his face said yes. 

“How could you do that?” 

“Come on Amber, don’t be mad,” he yelled at my back as I walked away.  

It was only lunchtime and I couldn’t wait for the day to be over.  I decided I’d eat in the girl’s bathroom, surrounding myself with the smell of disinfectant.  At least there I could get away from the accusing glares from the Perfect’s.

As I entered the bathroom, I heard crying.  The sound echoed off the grey tiles and stopped as soon as the door swung closed. 

Megan sat on the floor, her knees drawn up and her back against the wall.  Her head was in her hands and her fair skin was a red mess, wet with tears.  She hopped up, grabbing scratchy brown paper towels to wipe her face.  I couldn’t believe one of the Perfect’s actually had something to cry about.  And why was she alone?  Didn’t her group of friends travel in packs, like wolves?

“Megan, if this is about the text, I’m sorry.  Kurt sent it from my phone without me knowing.  He’s probably just embarrassed because you didn’t want to go with him to the dance.”  Then I added, “Consider yourself lucky since at least you were asked.  No one would even think of asking me.”

She sniffed and nodded her head.  “It’s not only Kurt I can’t go with, but any boy.  My mom and dad say I’m too young.  All my friends are going to the dance with someone.”  She thumped back down on the cold floor, looking like despair had poured right on top of her and drenched her.

I sat down beside her.  “You think your parents are tough?  My mom died two years ago, so it’s just me and my dad.  He gets all freaked out when I talk to him about anything girlish.  Sometimes it’s easier to just keep stuff to myself.”  I rested my head back on the wall.  Another girl came in to use the bathroom and gave us a curious look.  Megan and I stayed quiet until she left.

“Megan, I have an idea, but I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

She glanced at me, looking hopeful.  “What is it?” 

“You can’t go to the dance with anyone who asks you, and no boys will ask me.  Your friends will hang out with their dates, and my friends will hang out with each other.”  I paused before delivering the idea.  Who knew what Miss Perfect would say to a suggestion from Miss Nobody.  “What if you and I met up at the dance and hung out?  We could at least be alone together.”

She didn’t answer right away.  I felt like a fool.  Why would she want to hang out with me?  If they were giving out awards for horrible outfits, I’d win it for sure.  Stringy hair award?  Yep, that would be mine too.   

“I like that idea, Amber.  You’re sure you don’t mind?”

 I was beginning to think Megan was actually nice.  “I think it would be fun,” I told her.  “Hopefully I won’t embarrass you since I don’t look like your other friends.  But if you don’t mind, I don’t mind.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”  She was getting excited.  “I have a cute headband that would look great in your hair.  And you know the black skirt and white blouse we had to buy for the music program this year?  Wear that, and I have an adorable scarf that will go with it.  Let’s meet in here early and I’ll help you.  You’ll look awesome!”

“Sounds great!” I replied.  The sparkle was back in Megan’s eyes, and her tears had dried.  I was about to get an extreme make-over before the dance, and I had a feeling I had just made an unlikely friend.  Maybe I’m not Miss Nobody, and maybe she’s not Miss Perfect.  Maybe we’re both just Miss Understood.