"There goes the pretty one," someone said.

She kept walking, pretending not to hear. It was always the same boys staring, girls either wanting to be her friend or hating her for reasons she didn't understand. She was only thirteen, the youngest in her class, but everyone treated her like she was special just because of how she looked.

"Lena!" Marcus called out from behind her. "Wait up!"

She turned around and saw him jogging toward her, his friends were laughing and pushing him forward. Marcus was cute, popular, and had been trying to ask her out for weeks.

"Hi Marcus," she said politely.

"So, uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "There's this party this weekend. Would you like to come with me?"

His friends watched from a distance, some of which were making kissing noises. Lena felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry I can't," she said softly. "I have to study."

"Come on, Lena. You're already the smartest girl in school. One night won't hurt."

She shook her head. "Sorry, Marcus. Maybe another time."

His face fell, and she felt bad for disappointing him. But the truth was, she wasn't interested in dating anyone. All the boys who asked her out seemed to only care about one thing-was how she looked. None of them ever talked to her about books, her thoughts or asked about her dreams of becoming a doctor.

As Marcus walked away, Lena continued to her next class. Math with Mrs. Peterson. She loved math because numbers made sense. Unlike people, they never lied or pretended to be something they weren't.

She hurriedly sat on her seat just as the bell rang, she pulled out her notebook. Around her, classmates were still whispering about weekend plans and who was dating who. But Lena was focused on the board, ready to lose herself in equations and problems that actually had solutions.

For now, being the pretty one was more trouble than it was even worth.