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Felicia Miller was crying in the bathroom. Again.

I knew it was her because in the three months I'd been going to Green
Mountain High, I'd already seen Felicia crying in the bathroom twice. She
had a really distinctive sob, high and breathy like a little kid's, even though
Felicia was eighteen, two years older than me.
I'd left her alone before, figuring that it was every girl's right to cry in
a public bathroom from time to time.

But tonight was prom night, and there was something really sad about
sobbing in formal wear. Besides, I'd developed a soft spot for Felicia. There
was a girl just like her at every school I'd ever been to (nineteen and
counting). And while I may have been a weirdo, people weren't mean to me;
they mostly just ignored me. Felicia, on the other hand, was the class
punching bag. For her, school had been nothing but a constant parade of
stolen lunch money and nasty remarks.
I peeked under the stall door and saw a pair of feet in strappy yellow
sandals. "Felicia?" I called, rapping softly on the door. "What's wrong?"

She opened the door and looked up at me with angry, bloodshot eyes. "What's wrong? Well, let's see, Sophie, it's prom night of my senior year and do you see a date anywhere near me?"
"Um . . . no. But youare in the ladies' room, so I thought--"

"What?" she asked as she stood up and wiped her nose with a huge
wad of toilet paper. "That my date's out there waiting for me?" She snorted.
"Please. I lied to my parents and said I had a date. So they bought me this
dress"--she slapped at the yellow taffeta like it was a bug she was trying to
kill--"and I told them my date was meeting me here, so they dropped me off.
I just . . . I couldn't tell them I didn't get invited to my senior prom. It would
have broken their hearts." She rolled her eyes. "How pathetic is that?"

"It's not that pathetic," I said. "Lots of girls come to prom alone."
She glared at me. "Do you have a date?"
I did have a date. Sure, it was Ryan Hellerman, who might have been