"You're really going to like our high school," Snow said from the driver's seat.

"Yeah?" Emma asked. She didn't seem convinced. Her foster family had taken her out of Storybrooke near the end of second grade. Now some supposed great uncle-in-law (or something like that) was in the process of adopting her and, as a result, she had returned to her old hometown. She had moved back to Storybrooke over the summer and the only people that she really knew were her neighbor Snow (who was a senior and could drive) and Snow's perfect boyfriend that Snow wouldn't (or couldn't) stop talking about. She had known Snow before she left. As thrilled as she was that she lived a few doors down from someone that she actually knew, Snow still saw her as a little 7 year old with pigtails, playing hopscotch and baking cupcakes in an easybake oven. Emma was fourteen now. She didn't need anyone to babysit her, especially someone only three years older than her.

"Don't worry about being new. It's the beginning of the school year, so all the freshmen are new."

"But they know each other from middle school. They've already formed their own cliques."

"Well Emily-" Snow started.

"Emma" Emma corrected. "No one's called me Emily since grade school."

Snow seemed a bit hurt by that, but she continued.

"Well, Emma," she annunciated slowly, as if the words didn't quite fit into her mouth. "If you don't find anyone to eat with at lunch, you are welcome to sit with me and David."

The car pulled to a stop in the school parking lot. Emma opened the door and began to get out.

"Thanks, but I'd rather not crash your date with Prince Charming." She started walking towards the school.

"Do you want me to walk you to class?" Snow called after her.

"It's a small school, I'm sure I can figure it out."

That strategy worked pretty well for the first few periods. Her schedule had room numbers on it, of course. But by 4th period, she was dreadfully confused. She was standing at the top of the staircase and beginning to grow quite nervous because of the lack of people in the hallways. That meant the bell was going to ring very soon.

"Are you lost?" asked a boy behind her. She turned and looked down the stairs. It was David Prince, Snow's boyfriend.

"No."

"Really?" he didn't seem convinced.

"I know exactly where I am and where I need to go, but this staircase is being difficult."

"The staircase?"

"It only goes to the second story. Am I supposed to just fly to the third?"

"There is no third story."

"But here it says that art class is in room 312." She showed him her schedule. "The 100's are on the first story and the 200's are on the second story, so the 300' must be…"

"In another building," he explained.

"There's another building?" He smiled in amusement at her ignorance.

"Why don't I walk you there?" He started down the stairs. She followed.

"I don't want to make you late for class. Just point me in the direction of this other building and I'll be on my way." He didn't stop.

"Emma, I'm in your art class."

"But you're like three grades ahead of me."

"Art's an elective, so you can pretty much take it any year you-" he was cut off by the sharp ring of the tardy bell. "…want"

"And now we're both late."

"Not necessarily."

As they walked through the door, they were greeted by a smiling man (probably the teacher) "Ah, you found her," he said to David. "So glad you could join us, Emily Swan. You will not be getting a lunch detention today, but do try to be on time in the future. As I was telling the class, my name is Mr. Zimmer."

David walked over to his seat where he had already put his backpack. Apparently, he had arrived in art class, put his stuff down, and then went out looking for her.

The table David was sitting at was already full, so Emma walked over to another table and sat in a seat near the window next to a girl with dark hair who glared at Emma suspiciously, as if she might suddenly turn into a frog and hop out the window.*