About how many times have people written about one of the CL charries being new? Like a million, but I'm trying it again (different than High School Madness, and Turn The Tables, I hope.) I'm not sure if Lyoko will be in this one or not. Depends on later chapters!

I was about sixteen when I moved into Kadic Academy. It wasn't really the most amazing school, and it didn't really capture any details, nor did it challenge my knowledge, but my parents swore this was the best school in town, so I took the bait.

Man, am I dumb.

I fell into my parents trap to practically (not really) disown me, but as a happy, yet struggling, teenager, I packed up and did research on ol' Kadic Academy. It had good reviews from previous students, teachers, and School District administrators.

Reading one part settled it. It was the real reason I accepted going to a boarding school: Students from out of city, or out of state will be given a dorm room. You do not have to live in the area to be accepted in Kadic Academy.

That means that my parents can be all the way over here, and I can be all the way over there without giving half a Popsicle stick! After I ruined my vow of the cold shoulder for years, I told my parents that I will accept going into Kadic, if they wrote up an excuse for me to have my own dorm.

They did.

The next morning, I was in the car, waiting my arrival of what I thought was going to be the best school there was on this hemisphere, and maybe the entire world- but I wasn't too educated about schooling in America, or Mexico or that matter. Maybe, if I have extra time, I'll research it.

I never really did get to it.

My parents looks almost twice as thrilled as I was to leave. They were actually bickering about who was going to drive nearly three hundred miles. (Three hundred, mocking, long, miles.) Finally, after about forty games of rock, paper, scissors, my dad got thrown into the passenger's seat.

After the first fifty miles, I realized that it was going to be just concrete street for almost seven hours, so I decided to sleep (since I didn't much the night before) but this was harder than I had hoped, because of the old, bumpy roads to Paris, my head kept rattling, so I ended up passing out in a sitting-up position.

Sleeping was the easy part, waking up was the horrible part. My neck was all sore from leaning, and my upper back wasn't in tip-top shape either. My glasses were temporarily bent at a weird angle because of the way I was sleeping.

Oh, but that, my friends, was the best part of the whole trip.

About a two hundred miles in, my dad started playing his 'hip and groovy' older-than-dirt music CDs from 200 B.C. (when he was born) and- here's the best part- my mom and dad started singing. Now, I haven't heard my mom sing anywhere else but in the shower, and even then, it was muffled. She wasn't horrible, it was dad that needed some serious voice lessons. It was cracky and- and just hard on one's ear-drums, but, as a good son, I just smiled and clapped the rhythm for them.

That was only because my father made it clear that if I threw a fit before, during, or after the drive (meaning if I changed my mind before, was disrespectful during the car-ride, or got in trouble in Kadic) That he would send me back to Christopher High, which, trust me, no living thing (other than the algae and mold in the bathrooms) should ever be taught- scratch that- should ever step inside.

I wanted to sing myself after fifteen minutes of nothing but horrible screeches, and slow tempos (which my parents called the best songs there is) I swear, I was slowly losing my mind.

But, luckily, I didn't sing (God surely blessed myself then) because we had rolled up to Kadic Academy. It was exactly what it looked like on the website. Minus, you know, the photo-shopping they must've done.

Kadic was not white, like the picture showed. It was an interesting vanilla color, must be from age. And the gates were not perfectly aligned- which they were in the picture- but they were crooked, and looked abused from the ages they were opened and closed.

I was practically pushed out of the car, and my parents shouted their goodbyes out the window, after burning rubber and speeding off into the town.

I was instantly attracted to the main room- which was a huge cafeteria. Kids from everywhere gave me looks, and I managed to find the principal's room. I took a breath before walking inside.

"Can I help you?" The secretary was nice. Her short blonde hair was brushed, and her glasses hung on her nose tightly, "Ah, you must be the new student."

I nodded, "Yes. My name's Jeremie Belpois and-"

"No need telling me, doll. Just go into the principal's room right there." She pointed to the middle one, "His name is Mr. Delmas, I'm sure you'll like it here. Real fast, where are you from?"

"France."

"Oh? A kid from France? Wow." She didn't seem sarcastic, which was the scary thing, "Kadic gets a lot of students from across the globe. Where did you live?"

"Mulhouse."

"Oh, I used to live there!"

I let out a nervous laugh, "Heh, really? It's pretty far from here."

"Oh yeah. I'm glad I moved though, the schools there aren't the best."

After a mini-conversation with her, I stepped into the prinicpal's room, "Hello, Mr. Delmas?"

"Yes?" He wasn't really ancient old, like my parents, but he did have gray hair, and a beard to match, "You must be Jeremie. How nice to see you!" I shook his hand.

While in there, he told me the history of Kadic (boring!) and where my room is, where certain classes are, some rules, and wrapped it up with after-school activities they have here. He handed me a little booklet, "All about Kadic. Anything you need to know."

I nodded, said my goodbyes and I was off to explore the sweet goodness that was held in Paris.

Kadic sure did seem like a great place to stay.

Man, lemme tell you, am I dumb.