ONE

Gwen Sanders, along side her best friend, Imera Varanda, walked up the steps to Sheffield Institute. Her dark brown hair loose in the wind, with her favorite purple hat pulled down tight over her head. Her green nap-sack slung over her shoulder, and her very loose outfit. Imera, her little Chinese friend, had her short hair back in a small ponytail, her backpack firmly over her shoulders, and her sporty outfit loose, but fitting.

"I wonder what adventures we'll have this year," Imera smiled, looking up at her with her tiny Asian eyes. They were deeply black, Gwen's favorite color.

"You never know," She commented. "Hopefully Grade 10 is better than 9."

"Well, we're older, and there's always more new people to meet, and new teachers," Imera pointed out.

"And a new soccer season?" Gwen added.

"You betcha," she smiled. CImera was so into sports. Most importantly, soccer. She had high hopes of becoming a famous soccer player, and going off to england to show oof her talents. Gwen hoped the best for her, and she loved how dedicated she was. The made their way down the street-wide halls, dodging other students already making their way to their first period classes.

"Where's your first class again?" Imera asked.

"208," Gwen answered heading for the stairs. "I'll see you at lunch!" She waved and took the stairs two at a time.

After she found her locker, and got out her things for first period, she took out her MP3, and put it in her ears. A popular tune from Punkers was blasting from the head phones. She made her way down the hall bobbing her head to the music, when she found herself stopping before a stout man, with a ton of facial hair. He was dressed in a very clean, very neatly pressed suit. She made a face when she realized it was the principal, Mr. Abracapocus.

"Miss sanders," He sighed shaking his head.

"Yes, sir?" She smiled, turning down the music.

"What is the rule of wearing and using MP3's?" he asked.

"If the songs aren't goo enough, you shouldn't be playing them?" she guessed, trying to sound funny.

"Very witty," he commented, not sounding amused. "If I see anyone using one, I'll take it for my own usage. Since it is the first day of school, and its your first warning I'll let it slid. Now take it out."

"Of course sir," she removed the ear pieces, and shoved them in her pocket.

"Thank you," He nodded, and carried on down the hall.

"Have a good day sir," She smiled turning the corner. When she reached her classroom, she sat in the very back, and shoved the ear pieces back into her ears, and lounged for awhile. Very slowly the class filled up with students. The School Jocks sat in the middle, the Infielders sat in the back corner, the Outfielders sat near the front else, and the unclassified, sat here ever there was room. Gwen wasn't sure what she was classified as, and she didn't care, she always sat in the back.

The bell finally sounded, and their History teacher casually waltzed in. She was a dark lady, that look only about 5 feet tall. Her hair was pulled neatly into a bun and held with a flowered pin. She was a very plump little lady, Gwen had to admit.

"My name is Mrs. Strathorn," she greeted. "And I'll be your history teacher for the rest of the school year. Now this will seem awfully sudden, but I like to start off the year with a real brain boggling, mind working activity." No one looked enthused as she sounded.

"I put you into partners, they are listed at the back," she pointed. "Each group is responsible for a 12 page essay on their assignment, along with a 5 minute presentation." The room was filled with groans. Gwen slumped deeper in her seat in disgust.

"Don't worry you'll have a week and a half to do it, and about 4 days of class time!" She shouted over the noise. "Like today I'm allowing you to work on it. Get with your partner, and get started!"

Everyone sluggishly moved to the back of the room to see the sheet of paper. Gwen staid seated, waiting for everyone else to check it out. some kids groaned, some of them cheered, some had no expression. Gwen sat there her eyes close, letting the music of her hidden MP3 seep in. That was when someone tapped her on the shoulder and startled her.

She looked up at the person. It was a girl, her hair above her shoulders, and very brightly blonde. She had a very girl looking going on with a skirt ruffled at the bottom, and a pair of heels. She expected her eyes to be blue, like all the other blondies, but they hazel. She had a kiddish face, with soft expressions.

"Are you Gwen Sanders?" she asked.

"Who's asking?" Gwen said, removing her earphones.

"I'm Carrol Montella," she introduced. "I'm your partner for the History assignment." Gwen sighed, and put her hands behind her head.

"What is it on?" she asked.

"We have to do it on The Hundred Years' War," she answered.

"Never heard of it before," she admitted, shrugging.

"It was between England and France, "she said. "That's all I know." Gwen looked this girl up and down. She was a petit thing girl, with good posture. She looked like the kind of girl that moved with grace and beauty in each step. Her hair was shoulder length, and small bangs covered her forehead. Gwen, not very interested, put her earphones back in, and slouched in her chair. Carrol looked at her annoyed.

"What?" Gwen snapped.

"We are given time to work in class, and you're wasting it," she sighed, folding her arms.

"So?" she shrugged. "I don't care much for school."

"Well I do, and we're going to work on it," she snapped back.

"You can't make me," Gwen said.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Strathorn," Carrol called.

"Yes, dear," the stout women approached them.

"My partner won't work," she said. Gwen snorted, she sounded like some little kid ratting out another kid for taking their spot in line.

"And you are...?" she asked.

"Gwen Sanders, Miss," she smiled, making sure her hair was covering her ears.

"Well, Miss Sanders, I've been told a lot about you," she nodded, linking her fingers together.

"Am I that famous?" she asked sarcastically.

"And not in a good way," Mrs. Starthorn's voice changed. "Do you want to spend the day of school in detention?"

"It's better then being in this awful class," Gwen shrugged.

"Then here's your ticket," the teacher took out a pad of paper, and scribbled down something. Probably along the lines of 'Refusing to work in class'. "Have a nice day."

"You too," Gwen said, taking the paper. She grabbed her things, and left the classroom, with all of the students watching her.

Gwen walked quietly down the hall to her locker, and opened it. She gathered all of her things into her backpack, and left the school.