For the longest time I didn't know where Felicia was taking us. Then she pulled over in front of a small, cutesy café with flower pots in front of it, and we all followed her out of the car.

"Pick whatever you want," she told us as she and her friends headed for one of the tables, then hesitated when they realized it only had room for three people. "My treat."

"But next time it's my turn again," Louie replied, then turned from side to side, frowning. "Um, where do we sit? We can't make Pearl stand, you know."

Felicia caught the eye of someone inside and waved, then pulled a chair from another free table and pushed it to the table of three. "Problem solved," she said and sat down.

It was a little cramped. We each ordered a cold drink, and I tried my best not to be intimidated by the girls' fancy, cocktail-looking (if alcohol-free) drinks with their fruit and little umbrellas on them. I myself only got an orange juice. At least then I wouldn't have to keep track of all the stuff that was in it.

"Today went well," Chelsea remarked, gazing out into the street while playing with her straw. "If we keep up this work, we might actually win something this year."

"True," said Felicia, sipping her drink, which was so pink I didn't want to imagine what it was made of. "I can't wait for the competitions. Cheerleading's not the same if I have to look at Brandon's ugly mug the whole time."

Louie shrugged. "At least some of the other football players are cute," she said.

"I don't know, Louie," Chelsea remarked. "You also think snakes are cute."

"They are cute—is that Noel over there?"

We all turned. All airheaded friendliness had disappeared from Louie's face, and a dark cloud passed over her features. I followed her gaze onto a generic-looking guy—cute, sure, but nowhere cute enough to compete with Brandon—holding hands with a pretty brunette in trendy clothes.

"I can't believe this," Louie said softly. "He told me he couldn't see me this weekend because he's visiting family!"

Felicia shot a dark glare in his direction. "Who's that girl with him?"

"Nora St. Clair, from the swim team," Chelsea replied. "Louie knows her too, right, Louie?"

Louie nodded. There were tears in her eyes. "Do you think she knows…?"

"Definitely not. Nora would never date a guy who's two-timing," Chelsea muttered. "Maybe somebody should tell her."

An idea crossed over Felicia's face. She leaned over to Louie, reaching for her phone. "Mind if I borrow that?"

Louie pushed it into her hands. "What are you planning to do?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. You took pictures when you were out with him last week, right?"

Louie nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"Excellent." A devious smile spread over Felicia's face, her blue eyes gleaming, reflecting the bright glow of the screen. "One second."

Unlocking Louie's phone, she went into her contacts, opening Nora's, which was right after Noel's. We crowded around her to peer over her shoulder as she uploaded a picture of Louie and Noel on their last date, then typed in a message. hi darling! ❤️ u still wanted the pictures from saturday right? say hi to your grandma for me 😊

"And…send," Felicia whispered. She waited a few seconds, then added another sentence: SORRY WRONG CONTACT!!! THAT WAS FOR NOEL PLS IGNORE IT

Smirking, Felicia handed the phone back to Louie, a triumphant look on her face. "Done," she said. "Now we wait."

I looked, wide-eyed, from one to the other. Truth be told, I wasn't sure what to think of…all of this. On one hand, if this worked, then Felicia had done both her friend and the other girl a giant favor. On the other, it all felt so…underhanded.

"And this is going to work?" I asked. "I mean, she…"

"Will believe it," Chelsea completed the sentence. "Louie's airheaded enough that this could plausibly happen, and sweet enough that it doesn't look like she's trying to steal Nora's boyfriend."

"Right," I said. If Louie took offense to the airheaded bit, she didn't let it show; she was smiling again.

I, meanwhile, must still have looked uncomfortable, because Felicia rolled her eyes. "Come on," she said, "I'm fighting the good fight here. Literally no one deserves a two-timing boyfriend."

"You could've confronted him," I suggested. "Or…talked to him, right?"

"He would've denied everything." Felicia took another sip from her weirdly pink juice. "Also, this is so much more satisfying."

I didn't say anything. I just hoped that Felicia really did use these kinds of tactics for good only, to help people, not for her own gain or amusement. I didn't know if I could trust that. Even if, so far, she had seemed pretty nice.

We finished our drinks and got back in the car. Felicia still hadn't brought up the story with Brandon earlier, I realized as she pulled out of the street and away, towards another unknown destination. She had wanted to earlier, and then she had put it off. Why? What was she waiting for?

Whatever it was, I hoped it wouldn't come anytime soon.

We didn't go far this time. Before I had processed anything that had happened in the past hour or two, Felicia pulled into the driveway of one of the biggest houses I had ever seen.

My jaw dropped. It wasn't just that this house was big—it was gorgeous, too. Its walls were white and so clean they were almost too bright to look at, broken up by tall windows that let lots of natural light into the building. The lawn in front of it was so thick and green it almost looked like a carpet, and I thought I could glimpse a pool behind it.

"Wow," I couldn't help saying as I stepped slowly out of the car. "This place is…"

"Amazing?" Chelsea answered. "I know. It's Felicia's place."

"Louie's house is even nicer," Felicia remarked as she led us up to the front porch and unlocked the door. "But we can't go there, so this is like our home base."

"Sorry," Louie said sheepishly from behind, but Felicia waved it off.

There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and moments later a tall, elegant woman came up to greet us. I instinctively shrank back. She was just as gorgeous as Felicia, just as stylish and elegant, her makeup flawless, not a hair out of place. She hugged Felicia, then pulled Louie and Chelsea into a group hug, and finally turned to me with curious icy blue eyes.

"Um, hello," I said, avoiding her scrutinizing gaze. Suddenly I was painfully aware of the stray stand of hair in my face and the fading print on my old T-shirt.

"Mom, this is Pearl," Felicia stepped in, throwing an arm around my shoulders and smiling. "She's one of us now. Pearl, this is my mom."

Felicia's mom finally smiled and held out her hand to shake. I took it, hoping my palms weren't sweaty. "Nice to meet you, dear!" she said. "I'd tell you where everything is, but the girls will probably do that for me, right? Make yourself right at home!"

I relaxed, and at my side, Felicia did the same. I furrowed my brow. What was she relaxing for? Had she been worried that me meeting her mom wouldn't go so smoothly for some reason?

"Okay," Felicia said, stepping away from me and facing the whole group. "Mom, if you're looking for us, we'll be in my room."

We all slipped out of our shoes, my old sneakers sitting awkwardly next to the others' high-heeled sandals. Together we followed Felicia through spacious rooms and corridors and up the stairs into a room that could easily have fit half my house into it.

Awestruck, I looked around. Somehow it was exactly like I had imagined Felicia's room to be, and yet not quite. The floor was covered in a soft, fluffy carpet. The walls were all white except for one, which was painted hot pink instead; but all of them were covered in posters, some of them obviously old, others quite new. I recognized movies, TV shows, musicians, bands; they didn't seem to come from one set genre, instead it looked like only Felicia knew what connected them all. One wall was almost fully made of windows, looking out onto the yard. There was a large desk with a brand-new laptop beside it, and on the other side of the room was a queen-size bed with half a dozen pillows on it.

Above the bed, I noted, a chunk of the wall wasn't covered in posters. Instead there were lots of framed photos, and I stepped closer to see if I recognized anyone in them.

"Do we continue with Gossip Girl?" Chelsea asked, pointing to the giant flatscreen TV mounted to the wall across from the bed.

"We can't! We're on season three, and Pearl hasn't seen any," Louie answered at once. "That's not fair."

Felicia gave a nod. "We can find something else to watch," she suggested. "Or not. I don't feel like watching any more today."

Pausing, she pursed her lips, then snapped her fingers in my direction. "Pearl," she said, "can I try something on you?"

I blinked, taken aback. "Like what?"

"Like makeup, jewelry, maybe do something with your hair." She eyed me closely. "You're so cute, it's bugging me that you never do anything with it."

The eyes of all three girls were on me now, and I looked down, my face heating up. "I…don't know," I said. "I feel like if I wear jewelry or makeup, it's…people stare at me. You know?"

Felicia nodded. "No pressure, obviously," she said. "I'm not saying you should wear it in public. I just want to see how it looks, maybe take some pictures if it looks good?"

I hesitated. On one hand, I wasn't sure if I was really comfortable. On the other…I was curious. Felicia seemed to be good with makeup. Why not see, here in the safety of her home, what she could do with me?

"Okay," I said. "Sure!"

Felicia's face lit up. "Chelsea, Louie, help me," she said and dragged them both through the side door into the adjacent bathroom. "I need some ideas."

For the next couple minutes, I was left alone. Half bored, half curious, I sat down on Felicia's bed, turning to the photo frames again. There were lots of pictures of her with Chelsea and Louie, in different places, at different events, but always looking like they were having the time of their lives. But there were other photos too, photos of kids and tweens I had never seen before. Felicia wasn't in any of those, I realized. Or at least if she was, I didn't recognize her.

But I did recognize one of the little girls in the photos, or so I thought. At least, her face looked familiar. I knew I had seen her before—but where?

"Done!"

Felicia came waltzing back from the bathroom, holding a large bag of makeup. "I know what I'm gonna do," she declared. "Hold still."

Holding my breath, I waited as Felicia knelt down in front of me, her long hands lightly turning my face this way and that, holding different bronzers and blushes and highlighters against my skin, then shaking her head and reaching for the mascara. "You've got really nice eyelashes," she muttered as she worked. "I just need to highlight them a bit, too much makeup would ruin them."

I didn't say anything. I only sat there and watched as she reached for a lipstick, then shook her head and went for a pale pink lip gloss instead. "And a little blush!" Louie said over her shoulder. "She needs some pink on her cheeks!"

Felicia continued her work, assisted by the other two. They finished with my face, then moved on to my hair, pulling out my favorite hair ties and brushing it gently. "Your hair is so thick," Felicia muttered. "Do you use anything on it?"

I shook my head. "I guess it's just…natural?"

Felicia held it up tentatively, then twisted it around in one direction, then another. Finally she gathered it up into a simple bun, pulling out a few strands to frame my face.

"Done," she said and stepped back to take in the finished work.

Curious, I stood up to make for the bathroom mirror, but Louie shook her head, smiled and pulled a small mirror out of her pocket. "You look amazing!" she said.

I looked into it and gasped.

The girl looking back from the mirror was still me, but she was also the prettiest me I had ever seen. Felicia's handiwork had made my brown eyes pop against my pale skin, my embarrassingly chubby cheeks suddenly glowing with a shimmery pink blush that matched my lip gloss. My face looked so much softer than usual, the loose strands floating around it with a wispy, almost ethereal feel to them.

"Wow," I whispered. "Is that…really me?"

Felicia crossed her arms and smirked. "Don't like it?"

"No—no, I do! I love it," I said, smiling and brushing careful fingers over my cheeks. "Is this how Cinderella felt when she got her makeover? This is…wow!"

Felicia struck a proud pose. "Did you hear that? I'm a fairy godmother now," she told her friends. "I can teach you how to do it yourself, if you want!"

My smile faded. Just for a second I imagined myself walking down the school hallway looking like this, looking beautiful and radiant…and my heart sank. People would look at me. People would stare.

"That's…sweet," I said, looking down again. "But I don't…maybe someday?"

Felicia's face fell a little, but she shrugged. "Sure," she said. "But we can take some pictures, right?"

I really, really didn't like the way I usually looked on camera, but with Felicia's magic, I had a surprisingly good feeling about it.