I grew up as that girl. In middle school I was that girl who guys liked because I was pretty, but only because I was pretty. They only liked me for that. I was religious. Still am. My parents didn't let me watch horror movies or anything rated over pg-13. I was tiny. Only about 5'0 and didn't need a bra but wore one anyways. I didn't see the point in dating and I was looking forward to getting a good career. I wasn't nerdy but defiantly wasn't dumb. All my friends dated except for me because I was terrified of my parents or older sister finding out. So I said no to all those pleading requests. Harlowe Jennings was the ray of sunshine everyone wanted in there life. She was raised by perfect parents and she was pretty perfect herself. She never did anything bad, scared to death her parents would find out. She was gorgeous, had blonde hair down to her chest. She wore minimum makeup, to embarressd to ask her Mom if she could wear anymore. She had amazing fashion sense. Harlowe thought differently. She thought her parents were strict. They weren't. She thought people didn't like how she was smart and religious. They didn't care. And she thought the guys asked her out based on her looks. They didn't. So after twelve years of public school and four years of university, her parents finally had, had enough.