Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape, or form, own Rent and its characters. Jon Larson is my hero.

Warnings: Language.

I know a lot of people write these "high school" stories, but I want mine to be different. So, I'm starting this based on my high school experience so far. These chapters come from thoughts I have as I walk past my classmates and down the hallways. Hope it's as real as it can be. Thanks guys.

Read my other stories if you like this one:)

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The high school experience is different for everyone. Some people are lucky and pretty enough to become popular; those are the people who say high school was the greatest experience of their lives. There are those people who are almost seen as middle class students, and live out their days in comfort with a loving group of friends. These people enjoy their high school experience as well.

And then there are the people at the bottom of the barrel. These are the people who are smart, overachievers, enjoy homework, and unfortunately were not blessed with gorgeous faces like their peers up farther in the hierarchy of their school. These people are loveable once you get to know them, but so many people don't want to break out of their own cliques just to make friends with the 'geeks'. Besides, 'the geeks are friends with each other any way', right?

Not exactly true. Well, not always anyway. Sure, the so-called 'geeks' stick together. They have to in order to survive.

Mark Cohen, however, was one of those extremely unlucky people who were not only geeks, but had no other geeks to make friends with. He entered high school alone. His friends from middle school went to schools with each other, but he was the only one who went to Scarsdale High School. He walked into those vicious hallways completely alone.

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"Can I hold off from school for one more day, Mom?" I pushed my glasses farther up my nose. The summer wasn't over yet, and our house had shitty air-conditioning. I was sweating like a pig.

"No Marcus." I winced at my full name. "You don't want to fall behind the other students do you?"

My mom was a big woman. Her almost bleach blonde hair was passed down to me and Cindy; the almost afro Jewish style she had adorned, was not. She cooked it seemed almost non-stop, her voice was tinged with her Jersey accent, and her skin was so pale, she was two shades away from invisible. Yet another wonderful gene she had passed to me and my sister.

I put my head in my hands and sighed heavily. "Of course not, Mom." It came out sort of muffled, but I know my mom heard me.

"Good, bubbie. Now, get outside or you'll miss your bus." She pulled out the chair I was sitting in. I think she underestimates her strength; I ended up landing on the floor at her feet.

"Yeah, yeah." I pulled myself up off the floor and grabbed my backpack off of the chair. I kissed my mom on the cheek. "Bye, Mom."

"Bye, bubbie."

I nodded to confirm I'd heard her, and walked out my front door.

10 minutes later…

The giant yellow behemoth finally pulled up to my stop, the three other kids at my stop and I trudged on. None of them spoke to me. They knew even before school had begun that I wasn't in their group. Why bother making friends?

The bus was almost filled. Only a few seats were left, and none of them left me the option of being in a seat by myself.

I walked past the empty seats. People put their backpacks next to them, moved their feet up in the empty place, and even went so far as putting something as small as their water bottle in the way so I couldn't sit with them.

Only one seat left. She seems like a popular girl. She's gorgeous, well dressed, and is eye flirting with any guy that looks at her. Of course, they all smile back. Like I said, she's gorgeous.

I swallow down the bile forcing its way up my throat. No way she'd let me sit with her, right? There's no way, absolutely no way in hell she'll ever—

I'm in the seat. She turns her head and smiles at me. I'm in!

"Hey, babes. I'm Maureen. Feel free to give me any short version of my name you like. You know, Reen, Reeny, Mau, Reena, Mo, whatever. It's cool, okay?" She winked and popped the gum in her mouth.

I nodded in response.

She wasn't finished with me yet. "Come on now, I gave you my name. Now, what's yours?" Her smile was so bright, I was positive I was going to be blinded if I stared to long.

"M-mark. I'm Mark Cohen." Why do I always stutter? She probably thinks I'm some sort of freak now who can't even speak a word of—

"Aw, cute name. You Jewish?"

How did she know that? "Um, yeah. Actually, I am. How did you figure that out?"

She giggled. "My dad's actually Jewish. That's where my crazy hair comes from."

We both laughed. "Well, my mom's hair is bordering fro. So, I think yours is pretty." Oh no. "I mean, pretty….pretty fine…pretty…"

Her hand hits my thigh and she laughs. "It's okay. You like my hair. Yours is pretty cute too, Sparky." She winks.

I'm sunk now.

The bus pulls in front of the school. It's huge.

"Ooh! We're here!"

Here we go.

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Well, here's the first chapter. If you want me to write more, I need reviews! R&R please. Thankyou. ;)