Junior prom is in full swing. And yet, in spite of all the festivity, Skylar Sharpe sits on the sidelines of the gym sulking. Why isn't the queen of this school's social scene joining in the dancing and socializing? She should be gossiping and intriguing with all of her rich, popular friends from her clique.

You approach Skylar. She's wearing a strapless black prom dress with lacy ruffles, black elbow-length gloves, and high heels. Her chin-length dark blonde hair elegantly frames her face, and her blue eyes are wet with tears. "What are you doing here?" Skylar snaps, annoyed. "Leave me alone to brood, you nosy ignoramus! Haven't you heard? This junior prom is the last party I'll ever have." Fresh tears trickle down her cheeks before she regains control and suppresses them.