I'm a geeky, nerdy, preppy freshman and I hate money. In some ways, it causes all problems in society, and it is the reason I got kicked out of Woodson Academy. If you knew me, you would say, Ari, you have never been in any trouble your entire life, let alone getting kicked out of school. And it's true, I have never gotten less than an A- on all of my assignments, I have never had to stay after class, I have never missed a homework assignment, I have never been late to class, and I have never done anything that could damage a perfect reputation. But it's not like I try to have this reputation; it's just who I am, as well as who my mother is, so I guess that has some affect. I was known among my friends as the "goody-two-shoes," or "the conscience," but I never argued with them, because I knew they were right. It also doesn't help my reputation that I have only gone to the top elite academies ever since the Bridgewater Academy for the Achieving Preschooler. Throughout my life, I have been surrounded by the best and the brightest, and even then, was one of the best students. I'm not boasting, it's just a fact. Up to sixth grade, I was always admired for my "perfect personality" and was one of the most "popular" kids in our grade, which didn't say much, since my grade always consisted of less than 20 kids. Then, in middle school, the whole dynamic changed. All of a sudden, the popular kids of elementary school were considered the geeks and nerds, while the outcasts of elementary school were the cool kids, because they slacked off, and were "too cool for school." Most of my friends didn't mind, because they were able, or at least able to pretend that school social class didn't matter as long as they liked whom they were. And I pretended with them throughout sixth and seventh grade. And throughout sixth and seventh grade, I always felt lesser than the cool kids. So, in eighth grade, I started to hang out with the slackers. I did not fit in and they knew it, because whenever they talked about test scores and how they got Ds and Cs, I tried to skirt away from showing the A I got. It just didn't feel right to be with that crowd. But, even though I didn't fit in, I started to feel like their equal, which made me feel better about myself, not because I got to hang out with the cool kids, but that I was able to keep my reputation as the good girl. This was the case for most of eighth grade, but near the end, I started to hear my so-called new friends talk about me behind my back. I guess I was so happy when I was accepted, that I was too oblivious to hear the things they said about me. I was furious with myself, and I should have known better than to think they would be friends with a goody-two-shoes like me. But still, I couldn't help myself. Even if they wouldn't let me into their group, I wanted to earn their respect. I needed not only them, but my old friends to know that I could be bad, that I could slack off and violate the rule. And so I decided to steal a necklace from the mall. It wasn't an expensive necklace, just a cheap gold chain with a round stone pendant. It would have gone nicely with my eighth grade graduation dress too. I was able to steal it fine, no alarms went off, no one was suspicious of the innocent prep school girl I appeared to be. I would have gotten away with it too, if I hadn't told them. I had to tell them, otherwise my criminal activity would go unnoticed and my reputation would remain the same. So, I showed them the necklace and told them the story. They were shocked to see I was telling the truth, because I also have the reputation of not being able to lie. The necklace stunt did not exactly work the way I wanted it to. Of course, I was fully accepted into the group, but I had to leave all of my old friends behind. And I was told on by the group. I never thought I would get into trouble for this. Not only was my reputation about to be ruined, but my greatest secret about to be revealed. Anytime I got into the slightest bit of trouble, even when I just answer a question wrong in class, I cry. I have gotten better at controlling my emotions, but I still have to look down or leave the class with an excuse when I do something wrong. I can't stop it, I'm not a crybaby, it's just who I am and I have to accept it. So when I was called into the head of the middle school's office, I started to sob. Even before I entered the room. This was the first time people saw me cry, except for the time I broke my foot playing soccer in seventh grade. My classmates stared at me when I exited the room, running towards the office, not in hopes of getting there, but to get away from my classmates. As I left, I heard the cool kids laugh behind me. Long story short, I was immediately expelled from Woodson Academy because of theft, and since it was the middle of May, I did not have to go to the public school until freshman year began. Which meant I go tot sit at home with my parents for the entire summer, since I was grounded for life. They didn't even tell me I was grounded; I just sort of figured it out. As the summer slowly went by, I had time to think about my upcoming year of schooling. I had imagined my first day of freshman year ever since I was known as the goody-two-shoes. I always thought of that day as a clean slate, which was ridiculous, seeing as Woodson Academy went from sixth to twelfth grade, meaning I would be going to high school with all of my middle school peers, so they would remember me. I had no idea how big of a clean slate I was going to get at the beginning of ninth grade. Hundreds of kids who had been going to school together since before they could read, who knew what group they belonged in and knew the secrets of the schools would become my peers. They knew nothing about me except what I wanted them to know. I could create a completely different reputation. Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought, were my last positive thoughts about anything as I started my first day of high school.