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“Tori thinks she’s so perfect, just because she has it all. Well, she’s not. I heard she got a nose job over the summer. How’s that for perfect?” Krista rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I hate cheerleaders.”

Krista’s friend shushed her as they walked by my locker but too late.

I kept my focus on the books in front of me and grabbed my math book before tossing in my science book.

Normally, I might have stopped Krista and said something back, but I knew she was only acting like that because some of the cheerleaders had given her a hard time last year.

Guilt seeped into my stomach. I hadn’t been junior cheer captain then, but I could have spoken up about it. Now Krista was determined to get back at the entire cheer squad.

My hand went to the door of my locker, but I stopped and blinked back at the reflection staring back at me in the small magnetic mirror.

Maybe on the outside my life seemed perfect, but they had no idea what they were talking about.

My life was far from perfect.

I slammed the locker door shut and walked in the opposite direction to my second period class of the day.

My phone buzzed, and I took it out of my back pocket as I walked.

It was my mom.

Mom: Don’t forget about your coaching session this evening after practice! Oh, and I scheduled you for a spray tan on Saturday morning. You’re far too pale, especially with prom coming up.

Mom: We need to schedule some dress shopping time ASAP.

I rolled my eyes, gave her a thumbs up, and stuck my phone back in my pocket.

I forgot today was Thursday. Every other Thursday, I had a running appointment with my personal trainer. He helped me learn new stunts and keep me in top shape. According to my mom, he’d helped several other high school girls level up in cheer.

But it meant an extra hour of practice and staying up late to finish homework. Somehow, my mom didn’t place grades as high on her list of priorities. Not to mention nominations for prom queen.

Most of the girls on the cheer team assured me I’d win the eleventh grade crown. They were already planning the campaign.

The problem was, my ex would likely win junior prom king. And I couldn’t have cared less about the glittery plastic crown that would end up on my head.

To my mom, it was a big deal for me to get it, just like she did when she went to school here, but it was just another way I had to be perfect.

Maybe some girls envied that or wished they could win this popularity contest, but it was completely overrated.

I’d rather be like my best friend, Ella, who didn’t care what everyone else thought about her. Most days, she wore faded blue jeans, cute t-shirts, a sky-high messy bun, and her black-rimmed glasses. Sometimes, she even wore the most comfortable-looking, way-too-big-for-anyone-her-size sweatpants. She totally pulled them off.

Me? My mom would pitch a fit if she saw me leaving the house in an outfit involving sweatpants. Not even when I was sick and on my way to the doctor.

I walked into government and sat down. Ella and Harper were already waiting for me in their usual seats. Ella sat in the front row because she’s Ella and the girl loves numbers. I sat behind her, and Harper sat to my right.

Harper offered a smile. “Good morning. You look cute as always.”

I yawned. “I wish cute meant comfortable and out the door in fifteen minutes, not an hour and a half,” I said, nodding toward Ella in her sweatpants. “Ella’s got the right idea.”

Harper pulled down at her dress. “Maybe you’re right.”

Ella turned around, brow furrowed in confusion. “An hour and a half? What do you do the whole time?”

I counted off on my fingers. “Hair, primer, foundation, concealer, eye shadow, lip gloss, blush, mascara, eyeliner. I could go on,” I said.

Ella blinked back at me. “Why? Mascara and eyeliner takes me five minutes.”

I shrugged. “I guess I’m used to it by now.” But the way she asked me that question struck a chord inside me.

Maybe the real reason was that it was the mask I hid behind every day.