Amos swallowed hard and crossed his legs under the desk, feeling the curious gazes piercing through him. No one had recognized him yet.

Amy—or rather, Amos—chewed the gum calmly and blew another bubble, letting the bright pink sphere float for a moment before it popped with a sharp snap.

Spirit Week. Opposite Day. Tracie was right: if he wanted people to stop calling him “Anus,” he had to do something radical. And there was nothing more opposite to the image everyone had of him than this.

The miniskirt brushed against his thighs as he shifted in his seat. He had spent hours practicing in the mirror—the right way to move, to blink indifferently, to twirl the fake hair with a confidence he didn’t actually feel. And now, here he was, dressed as Amy, ready to erase that awful nickname once and for all.

Jimmy Potter scrunched up his nose from his seat.

—"What the hell is this supposed to be?"

Amy shot him a bored look.

—"It’s Opposite Day, Jimmy. You know, the day people try something new. You could try having a personality."

A ripple of laughter spread through the classroom. Jimmy’s face turned red.

Amos smiled to himself. Maybe, just maybe, this would work.