It was eighth grade, and Pam had just moved to Scranton, Pennsylvania. Her father got a better position at Marywood University, and so Pam’s family left the only home she had ever known and moved to Scranton.

            Pam fidgeted in front of the mirror, adjusting her shirt constantly.

            “Sweetie, you look fine. It’s time to go.”

            “Mom… my hair is too frizzy. This shirt is old – it looks like something I wore in elementary school.”

            “Pam… You are going to be late. You look fine. Now shoo. Get in the car.” 

            It was her first day of school at Dunmore Middle. Pam knew she had to make a great impression, and already, nothing was going right. She woke up and her hair was frizzy and knotty. After she finally got her hair somewhat under control, she tried to find clothes – but everything just looked out of date and unpopular. She just knew she was going to be laughed out of school.

            After the arrived at school, Pam walked slowly around the courtyard. There were reunions all around her – people telling stories of summer adventures and inside jokes. Pam tried to find a friendly face in the crowd, a potential friend, anyone so she wouldn’t feel so alone.

            “Hey, you,” said a tall girl, beckoning Pam over. She was standing with a group of friends, and even Pam could see they had the air of importance about them. She took a deep breath and plastered on the best smile she could.

            “Hey.”

            “You new?”

            “Yeah, I just moved here from Wake Forest. My dad got a new job at Marywood. I’m Pam.” Pam eagerly stuck out her hand.

            “I’m Becka,” the tall girl said, ignoring Pam’s hand. “This is Abby, Sara, and Jenna. Just so you know, we are this school.”

            “What?” Pam asked meekly.

            “Listen kid, don’t be stupid. We can make your life hell. Just stay out of our way, okay?”

            “Um… okay.”

            “Good. Now bye bye little one…” Becka shooed Pam away with her hand.

            As Pam walked away, she could still hear the girls talking.

            “God, what type of name is Pam?”

            “Sounds like a little country bumpkin or something.”

            “Well, you saw the way she’s dressed.”

            As they laughed, Pam ran inside, the tears stinging her eyes.