High school is rough. It doesn't matter if you're the lowliest, greasiest nerd or the hottest, most popular cheerleader, high school can beat down all but the toughest souls. And Dawn Summers was feeling the pressure. Her grades were suffering from stress at home. Her sister was going through a rough time. Her mother was sick. And at school, her few friends weren't too happy themselves. Jennifer, a constant companion, had been out sick for two days. Dawn finally got word that she had developed acne so bad she had to be hospitalized. Dawn visited her, and left more depressed than ever. She tried to talk to Buffy about things, but she had problems of her own.
The worst part at school was her friend Danielle. Danielle was an outcast like Dawn--pretty and shy, but prone to being so awkward around others that she made few friends. Danielle found solace in books about the occult and magic. Dawn found this amusing most of the time, but sometimes seriously considered letting her in on the family slayer secret. Real live proof that the magic she studied could actually exist would certainly brighten her life. And sharing all these secrets with someone else her age would ease the burden Dawn was feeling more and more with each passing year.
But Danielle was talking to her less and less. To add insult to injury, Dawn found that she was on speaking terms now with the queen bitch of the popular crowd, Heather. Heather was everything any popularity-aspiring high school student wanted to be. She was stunning, articulate, intelligent but still socially adept. And she never liked Dawn in particular, so it was especially hurtful when Danielle started ditching Dawn more and more to hang out with her new image-obsessed friends.
When Dawn told Danielle that Jennifer was in the hospital, she just looked sheepish and walked away. She couldn't even respond. Dawn, teenage hormones raging, went to the bathroom and cried.
It was a very cathartic few minutes until Heather and her cronies entered, fixing their make-up in the mirror and chatting idly, a mix of gossip and insults.
Heather suddenly stopped in mid-sentence. Dawn quieted her sobbing, not wanting to be caught like this. Heather's high-quality imported high heels approached her stall all the same. The other girls stayed behind, giggling and whispering.
"Dawn Summers?" Heather's deep, sensual voice came through the door. Dawn suddenly noticed how different it sounded from the beginning of the year. More mature, sexier even.
"What?" Dawn, no longer crying, but her voice still quivered when she spoke.
"You're beautiful even with those little boobs," Heather said. Dawn didn't know how to take that. It sounded sincere, but the girls giggling behind her could mean otherwise.
"What?" Dawn repeated.
"I mean it," Heather said through the door. Dawn could tell she was striking a cocky pose even though she could only see her feet. "I wish I could keep my stomach as flat as yours. And forget about my ass, that just gets out of control if I don't watch it."
"Thank . . . you . . .?" Dawn was thoroughly confused. She knew she was being set up for something insulting or embarrassing, but she didn't know what.
There was silence from behind the door. A long minute went by before Heather spoke again.
"Enjoy it while you can," Heather said at last. Her and her friends turned and left.
Dawn sat on the toilet with a confused expression. Her hand was no self-consciously holding her--as Heather said--flat stomach. Was that a threat, a promise, a warning, a weird zing?
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