Tara stared at her reflection in the side mirror of her mother's car. Black stitches lined her right cheek. It had been days since she'd fallen off her bike and had to get stitches, but Tara still wasn't used to how she looked. "I can't go," Tara said. "I look like Frankenstein." 
"Honey, you look fine," her mother said. "Those stitches will be out in no time." "Then why can't I start soccer camp after the stitches are out?" Tara asked. "No one is going to see your stitches. The doctor said you need to cover them up with a bandage to keep dirt from getting in them. You're lucky the doctor is even letting you go to soccer camp."