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After I did my best to subside the tears, I dreaded pulling up to the gate that surrounded my house. When I got out of the taxi, I tried to ignore the sympathetic look on the gatekeeper's face.

Paying the taxi driver, I waited for him to leave before I faced the walkway. My house was usually comforting, but as I made my way towards it, I found it strangely unsettling. As quietly as I could, I pulled my house keys out of my purse and opened the door.

Shutting the door, I attempted to walk soundlessly up the stairs, but as soon as I took one step forward, the lights flicked on. I mentally freaked out and tried as hard as I could to wipe my cheeks dry.

Taking a deep, steady breath I began the ascend up the flight of stairs, hoping that whoever it was was just grabbing something from the kitchen.

"Isabella, what are you doing?" I cringed as I heard Mom's voice. Of course it was her. Based on her tone, it seemed like she was going to be a little bit inquisitive tonight . . . lovely. Maybe if I don't let her see my face she won't suspect anything.

"Nothing. Just got back from the party I told you about earlier," I answered with my back towards her. "So, you know, I'm kind of tired," I told her, as I tried not to sound as upset as I felt.

"Oh, did you have fun?" she asked. I fidgeted as I heard her footsteps getting closer.

I gulped. "Um, yeah it was great."

"Honey, turn around. I want to look at you when we talk," Mom said, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"I'd . . . rather not." I mentally hit myself. Yeah, like that wasn't going to make her suspicious.

"Why not?" she, of course, asked.

"Because, um . . ." I tried to think of a quick excuse. "I just want to go to bed, I'm really tired. We can talk in the morning." Or not, preferably.

"Well, all right then, I'll go up with you."

"Wait!" I said, my voice going up a bit too high. I coughed and cleared my throat. "I mean, ah . . . it's okay. I don't need you to come with me, you're probably busy."

"Honey, why are you so jumpy tonight?" she asked.

"I'm not," I quickly said.

"Yes, you are." I soon felt both of her hands on my shoulder. Then she turned me around.

Here comes a million of questions . . .

I heard her gasp. "Isabella, what happened?" she asked as she gently touched my cheek. "Why were you crying?"

I sighed. "Look, Mom, it's nothing. Can I please just go to bed?"

She frowned. "No, Isabella. Talk to me, tell me what's wrong," she insisted.

I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll tell you. But can we please sit down first?" I pleaded.

"Sure, whatever you want." She grabbed my hand with a squeeze and lead me down the stairs, as we headed straight for the living room.

I plopped down on one of the leather couches, and braced myself for my mother's interrogation.

She took a seat beside me and wiped my running mascara with her thumb. "Now, tell me."

I took a deep, shaky breath and said, "The party Amanda and I went to . . . people made fun of me." She let out a sympathetic noise and swept some of my hair behind my ear.

"What did they do?" Her voice was as small and hurt as I felt.

"A prank," I said shortly as I remembered what had transpired.

"And, what exactly happened?" she gently prodded, knowing that I needed to let everything out.

"Well, you know that guy, Jason right?" I asked. Mom nodded her head, and I continued, "Well, Thomas, the guy who torments me the most, decided to play a little game. By the end of it everyone at the party knew that I had a crush on Jason, and Jason . . . he didn't do anything! Everybody was laughing at me, and he just stood there. I couldn't take it anymore, so I ran." I took a deep breath as tears started to form in my eyes again while the memory replayed in my head.

Why hadn't he said anything?

"Oh, sweetie." Mom sniffed as she pulled me into a tight hug. "It's going to be okay, I'm here for you, honey."

I glanced up at her. "Mom, I don't want to go back to school anymore," I told her. The idea of doing so made me cringe at the thought.

"What do you mean?" she asked as she let go of me.

"Well, not right now. I mean . . . can I have a home tutor or something, just until my senior year? Please?"

"Isabella, you can't run away from your problems," Mom said, as she ran her hands through her dark hair. "Why do you want to drop out of school anyways?"

"I want to change myself. I'm sick and tired of Thomas and everyone else at school picking on me just because I'm overweight. I want to prove to myself that I'm not a pathetic loser. I don't want to be Isacow anymore—"

"—First of all, you are not a cow, or a pathetic loser. Whoever says otherwise has to deal with me. And second of all, are you sure you want to do this? I mean dropping out of school is a little bit drastic. Maybe you can—"

"No, Mom," I cut her off. "I can't. I need to do this. I don't want to look in the mirror every morning and see the same thing over and over again. I want to finally see what you see in me. I want to hear the words, "you're beautiful" and actually feel beautiful. I just want to be happy, Mom."

She paused for a moment, considering it, and then nodded slowly. "Well, I certainly respect your decision. There's no shame in wanting to get in shape so long as you're doing it for yourself. I'm proud of you, honey, and for the record, you are beautiful."

"Thanks, Mom." I smiled and hugged her. "And thank you for understanding."

"I'll always understand, honey," she said, and placed her hand on top of my head. "I'll make some calls, and see what I can do," she said, patting my knee as she got up.

"Don't forget to look for a personal trainer as well," I shouted after her. "I'll need all the help I can get."

"I know, I won't," she called back.

I smiled, staring after her. She really is the best Mom ever.

The mood I had been in an hour ago had slowly disappeared as I got up and began the walk up to my room. But the sound of quick footsteps made me pause mid-stride. Before I could turn around, I was attacked with a fierce hug. I turned to find my best friend clinging on to me with all her might.

"lzzy! Are you okay? I'm so sorry about everything. I tried to stop them, I promise. I really did," she rambled on, as her words rushed together in an attempt to be said first.

"It's okay, I know you had nothing to do with it, so don't worry about it." I waited until she gave me a quick nod, then I sat her down. It was now or never. "Listen, I don't want to beat around the bush or anything, so, I'm just going to say it. I'm not going back to school anymore—"

"Wait, what?" Amanda asked, eyes going wide. "You can't drop out. Are you crazy?" she screamed.

"No, no, I'm not 'dropping out'. I'm just going to leave for a few months. You know, get in shape, and then return senior year."

"Oh." She breathed as she relaxed. "For a second there, I thought you were becoming one of those depressed stoners that dropped out for good."

I laughed. "Don't worry Amanda, I'm not. I told my mother everything and we both agreed that it would be best to be homeschooled while I 'pull my life together'," I explained. After a long silence, Amanda looked at me.

"And?"

"And, I'm serious about getting healthy. I'm going the whole nine yards; exercise, diet, personal trainer, the whole shebang."

"Really? Can I help with your makeover afterwards then?" Amanda's eyes immediately started glowing. "Can I, please?"

"Fine." I groaned. "But please don't go overboard."

"Whatever you say," she shouted. "I can't wait until you come back to school looking as hot as I know you will!"

"Yeah well, I don't know about hot, but at least I won't be overweight anymore," I conceded. That was all I really wanted, anyway. I couldn't care less about being pretty, I just didn't want to be overweight anymore.

"Self confidence please! I promise, by the time you come back, you'll have boys down on their knees begging for a chance to be with you. You'll see, they'll all be sorry." Amanda grinned widely.

I laughed. "Thanks, but—"

Amanda and I looked at each other as we heard the front door slamming shut.

"Um, is that your mom?"

"No . . . she's upstairs."

"Then—"

We both paused when we heard John's voice calling my name.

"John?" Amanda and I spoke in unison. 

Shit. 

Why was my brother home? And why did he sound so angry?

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