"She can look at herself in a mirror for hours. Can't you, Samantha?"

I hadn't realized Mom was talking to someone else until I came out of the curtains around the changing booths in my little girl's gym outfit. I gave the dark-haired lady with Mom only a glance and took a bit more time to look at myself in the big mirror there.

I sure didn't look anything like a boy, I realized. The red shorts seemed to imply more shape than I actually had, while the pin-striped shirt flattered my slimness.

I still had my hair up in braids, which made it easier to change clothes for one thing, but I pulled them around in front to see how that looked. Not bad.

Mom was talking to the other lady, but I overheard her say, "She can look at herself in a mirror for hours. Can't you, Samantha?"

I know I blushed when I realized she meant me, but I shot her a glare just the same.

Both the women laughed. "Girls!" said the dark-haired lady I didn't know. "Weren't we the same at that age?" They beamed at me, so I naturally smiled back. A little weak, but it was a smile.

"Sophie tells me that her son is here in the mall somewhere, too," Mom commented.

My braids were too heavy for my hair to stand on end, but I felt the prickle in my scalp nonetheless.

"Samantha?" the dark-haired lady chimed in. "Do they call you Sam at school?"

Yikes! Mission abort, abort! I tried to turn and retreat into the changing rooms, but first the clerk and then mom got in my way. This had to be Del's mom, Mrs. DelForte! There were only two people in the world I wanted to meet less; Del, himself, and Mr. Kant, the vice-principal.

"They do!" Mom was agreeing. "I named her after Elizabeth Montgomery because she had that bewitching blonde crown when she was born?" She did? I was? But my real name is Samson!

Mrs. D, if it was her, laughed. "My boy hates his first name, Pasco. We call him Pesky at home." More laughs. "But the kids at school call him Del."

Oh, jeez! It was her! I froze, which I judged was probably better than flailing my arms wildly and screaming.

But Mrs. D. was talking to me now. "And if you're the girl called Sam, then you're the one he got suspended over back in October."

"Ah—ah—ah!" My mouth froze in the open position. Some momma bird was likely to come by and stuff a worm down my gullet. I could have died of Deep Vein Embarrassment.

Mrs. D. sputtered, laughing, "He pulled your ponytail, and you punched him in the crotch!" She almost choked laughing. "He got suspended for the rest of the day and had to use an ice bag."

"What!" I protested. "Just for the day? I got suspended for three days then, and my latest suspension is for a week because of that!"

Mom was laughing too. She even pointed at me while trying to say something.

Mrs. D. managed to ask, "Another suspension? Did someone else pull your tail?"

I know I must have pouted because Mom made a pouty face back at me. I shook my head. "He-uh-he broke my comb." Jeez, did that sound petty!

Mom supplied more detail. "She sent him to the hospital with a broken head." Oh, the two of them practically howled. I made faces at them, but it didn't help. They were having hysterical melt-downs over me almost killing Leon Frangelli.

What's with these Italian kids giving me trouble? Well, if you live on Long Island, you're going to meet a lot of Italians, I guess.

Mrs. D was wiping her eyes. "Hoo boy! You're a dangerous woman, Sam," she said. "Was this Leon character sweet on you, too?"

"Too? He? Who--what?" As if I weren't embarrassed enough, now I was squealing like a possum. "No! Leon hates me!"

"Are you sure about that?" Mrs. D. asked. "In my experience, if a boy makes trouble for a pretty girl, it's because he likes her."

Mom was nodding. "Your sister told you that, too," she pointed out.

"Yeah, well," I muttered. At least the laughter had died away. "Leon thinks I'm a boy," I pointed out. Heck, he knows I'm a boy, but I didn't say that.

"Mm, hm," said Mrs. D. "Pesky says you dress like a boy but that you have the prettiest hair in the school. He just wanted to touch it."

Pesky Pasco. Heh. That made me smile, but I had to protest again. "He yanked it so hard I spilled my cafeteria tray!"

The ladies shrugged. I looked down at the girl's gym outfit I was wearing. I glanced at my reflection in one of the mirrors. If I'd been dressed like this.... Uh? I sighed.

"Look at her pose," Mom commented to Mrs. D. They both chortled like middle-aged women do. I wanted to glare at them but got distracted, wondering if this would look as good with my hair loose. "You do look nice, dear," Mom observed. "Not as athletic as your sister, but you're so slender!"

"Augh!" I mentioned. Hannah is only as athletic as her current boyfriend wants her to be. She's had enthusiasms for long-distance running, tennis, handball, and golf, and she usually excels in them until she loses interest or changes main squeezes. My only athletic endeavor has been outrunning bullies.

"I have to get changed!" I said, disappearing back into the change rooms. I'd had enough of the momma see-saw act they were putting on.

"We'll wait here to see your next set," Mrs. D. Said.

"Try the green skirt and yellow top, dear," Mom suggested.

I'd been just about to do that thing, so I put on the blue skirt and red top instead. I pulled my braids down in front and looked at myself in the mirror. The red seemed to bring my face into focus more, and white wasn't really my color, I decided. The blue skirt was a bit skimpy, like six inches above my knees, almost as brief as the gym shorts had been.

I put my hand to my throat. The deep v-cut of the blouse's neckline demanded some jewelry. Hannah had a piece of red and blue transparent stones that would look terrific with this outfit. Could I steal the necklace from her?

What was I even thinking about? I squirmed then shivered when I overheard Mom and Mrs. D. outside the changing rooms discussing my fate.

"You said Sam's only fourteen? Do you let her date yet?" Mrs. D. asked.

"Well, she hasn't yet. I think her looks scare the boys her age off," Mom countered.

Huh? Mom knew that wasn't why! My face heated up with the thought of a boy asking me for a date. Yikes!

"Would it be all right if I encouraged Del to ask her?"

Omigod! No!

"Hmm?" Mom hesitated for only a moment. "I know. We'll arrange a double date with her sister. Hannah's boyfriend is a monster, so he can keep order in case Sam tries to punch your boy again."

Mrs. D laughed like bells ringing for my funeral.