*Hey thur you guys! It's Sophie here, back with another Mondler. 'But Sophie, what about your other stories?' I hear you saying. I don't know where to take them! So go leave a 'review', althogh it's mostly just to tell me what you want to happen. I will try to make everyone happy. So, this is my new fic, set when Monica and Chandler are in highschool. For the sake of the story, Monica has already lost weight. I hope you guys want me to carry on, if you do, I will!

Sophie xo*

My mother always told me that first impressions mean nothing.

Yeah, sure.

It was the first day of ninth grade. I checked my timetable. Double chemistry first? Ugh. I held my timetable in my hand as I walked along the corridor, counting the numbers of the doors. I found the right classroom and took a deep breath.

Come on Monica, you can do this.

I opened the door and walked inside, then shut the door again. The teacher smiled and told me to take a seat. All the front row seats were taken up. I took an empty table in the back row. I sighed and wrote my name on my new book and file. The classroom was filling up slowly, but I was still alone. I wasn't that surprised. When I was fat, I had lost a lot of self-confidence. Now, even though I had lost the weight, I was still very shy. The teacher took the register, and told us to write a date and title in our books. I was underlining my title neatly when the door slammed. I jumped and looked up at a group of boys. The teacher stared at the clock.

"Ricky, Chandler, Joe, where have you been? Your 20 minutes late!" The group of boys looked at each other and started laughing.

"Sorry miss. We gotted in trouble for hitting Chandler." Ricky giggled.

"You got in trouble, Ricky. And why did you hit Chandler?" The teacher eyed Chandler suspiciously.

"We were play fighting miss." Chandler said. The teacher nodded and told them to take a seat. Chandler pulled Joe's chair away from the table and Joe fell over, pulling Chandler down with him. They started rolling around, play fighting. The teacher grabbed one each from the collar and pulled them up.

"Chandler! If you don't stop fighting, and work hard, you will never get a job," the teacher said. Chandler scoffed. "I'm serious. You really need to pull your socks up and work hard." The teacher told him. Chandler turned deadly serious. And then, he reached down and pulled his socks up, literally. The teacher sighed. "Very funny. Now, go and sit next to… I'm sorry I don't know your name." It took me a few seconds to realize she was pointing at me.

"Monica," I said.

"Go and sit next to Monica." The teacher told him, lightly pushing Chandler.

He sloped towards me, pulled the stool back and slumped on it. I told myself to ignore him. I took my pen, wrote the sentence from the board, and underlined the date and title neatly. I could feel Chandler watching me. I looked at him as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a biro, and scribbled his name on his file. He opened his book and scrawled the date, title and the sentence too. He underlined it without a ruler and then set his pen down. I moved my book and pen slightly, so they were straight. He did the same. I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. He copied me the best he could with his short hair.

"Stop it!" I whisper shouted. He smiled.

"I was seeing how far I could take you. I don't know you, but now I have a basic idea." He said.

"Youre meant to be 14 years old," I grumbled.

"Actually, I am 13. I got moved up. My friends are 14, though. I'm the baby of the group." He said.

"I'm 13 too. I got moved up." I said. "When's your birthday?" I asked him.

"It's the 8th of April," He said. "You?"

"Mine is the 22nd of April." Chandler smiled.

"Cool."

We talked our way through most of the lesson.

I guess my first impression of him was wrong.

The bell went in the middle of our last conversation, and Chandler's two friends came up.

"Ew, Chan, you weren't talking to that were you?" His friends said, pointing to me.

I felt my heart break as Chandler spoke.

"No. Why would I do that?" He got up and his friend slapped me across the back of my head with a textbook.

They then walked out of the classroom, laughing.