Lena: You're just so... plain, Erica," Lena said with a sugary smile, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "You know, if you wore a little makeup and dressed like me, maybe people would actually want to talk to you."

Erica looked down at her worn jeans and baggy sweatshirt. She had been at her locker, trying to ignore Lena's catty comments when the popular girl strutted over, surrounded by her clique of giggling followers. They all had their designer clothes and perfect hair, while Erica stuck out like a sore thumb in her school's sea of pink and lace.

"I don't need makeup or fancy clothes to be happy," Erica replied, her voice quivering slightly. She had always been proud of her plainness, finding comfort in her own skin despite the constant barrage of insults. But Lena's words stung, especially because deep down, she knew there was truth to them. She didn't fit in.

"Well, maybe not happy," Lena said with a laugh, "but you could at least be liked." Her friends snickered, and Erica felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She slammed her locker shut and stormed away, wishing she could disappear.