Jamie Tuttle unhooked the clasp of her platinum locket and laid it on the dresser. Then she picked up a beaded necklace and slipped that on instead. The locket was something her mom had given her on her sixteenth birthday, and it contained a picture of Jamie as a little girl. But Ethan had given Jamie the beaded necklace at the end of last summer, and just wearing it made her pulse spike. She couldn't believe that within half an hour she’d be standing next to the guy. At last.

Swiveling, Jamie faced the mirror and gave herself a once-over. She was wearing a drawstring skirt she’d sewn herself and an off-the-shoulder cotton top she’d bought at the Salvation Army. Jamie noticed now that the pale green quilting on the skirt brought out the darker green in her eyes, and the effect contrasted nicely with the brown freckles dusting her nose. She’d never felt prettier. Then she pulled out the rubber band from her black hair and watched as the curls poofed out around her face, expanding like Chinese noodles dropped in a fryer. She frowned.

"I look like a lion.

She had already tried wetting her hands and patting down the curls that refused to behave. Now she put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side, considering. Maybe lion wasn’t quite right. She looked like the picture on the cover of a book she’d read once. Julie of the Wolves.

"I can’t believe you can feel this bad about hair,” she said to the mirror Jamie. The mirror Jamie understood that Jamie was not a girl who cared about hair. No, this was a girl who practically invented the messy bun look and chose to wear Chap Stick instead of lipstick, because Chap Stick didn’t require a cosmetic mirror to put on.