I'm not exactly what you would call "popular".

Maybe it's because every time I'm asked if I was popular at the school in which I had last attended, I reply that popularity is merely a process with which people choose an alpha female based on dominant traits, such as beauty and leadership.

So I knew that my first day at McCleans wouldn't be any different.

I'd keep my head down, go to classes.

Fake a smile when the rest of the class laughed, remain silent when everyone else began to talk.

I was shaken out of my morose daydream by my foster mother: Laura. It was a typical name for a typical woman- golden wheat hair, brown eyes.

"How many times have I told you?" she snarled, "Don't just sit there! Start cooking breakfast!"

I leaped from the chair in which I situated myself, haphazardly grabbing a pan and beginning to fry some bacon.

My family didn't eat breakfast. Not Laura and Tom, my real family- the biological parents and brother. The ones that had left me.

The lump of meat began to sizzle with a satisfying hiss, as I grabbed my tattered book bag and raced out the door.

The weather was cool, the air crisp and sun slightly faded.

I had dressed in a light grey t-shirt, and dark blue jeans. I wasn't sure what kids wore here, but down in Michigan, nobody really cared about their attire.

The anthropology had been idealistic- easy to follow. Everybody had been straightforward, at least for the most part.

By the time I reached the school, it was 6:55. I still had 35 minutes in which to scout my classes. Sure, I'd received a schedule in the mail, but Laura hadn't let me go to orientation.

I hadn't even reached the left wing when I got caught in my first confrontation.

An alpha male, clad in the typical chain male with which I associated them, stood in my path.

His shoulders were tensed in way that made me realize: he wanted to see how I reacted.

"Excuse me," I muttered feebly, attempting to push past him.

In an instant, he had thrown me to the ground, one foot on my stomach.

I winced as the hard tile pierced my shoulder blades, but didn't cry out.

If their physical orientation was more animalistic, they would have been like coyotes.

I wasn't worried though.

I twisted around upsetting him from his perch so that he stumbled backwards against the lockers, as I scrambled up.

His cry was so loud that I was surprised nobody came running-except for one boy.

He looked different than the one that had just assaulted me, with warm brown eyes and spiky black hair.

Internally, I admonished myself- after all, the eyes were not warmer than any other part of the body.

I felt my cheeks flushing red, a phenomenon that easily could be explained by the temperature. Yes, that must have been it.

"Hey, Teddy, wassup, dude?" he asked.

"This chick is psycho!" 'Teddy' shrieked, gesticulating towards me wildly, "She's psycho, Seely, I swear!"

I backed up against the wall, eyes wide with fear. If I got in trouble on the first day of school...

Laura would kill me.

The boy must have seen the fear in my eyes, because he patted my shoulder reassuringly. I flinched, anticipating a slap.

For a second, something flashed in his eyes.

Confusion?

Then again, I'd never been very good at reading people.

I stuck to the science textbooks- that was my domain.

But it was gone, as it appeared.

I wasn't one to dwell on moments- as I turned away and marched towards my first period.

AP English the schedule read, in pristine print.

I sighed.

My steep learning curve made it evident- I was easily ready for college English, if not university level, despite my 14 years.

But of course, there were disadvantages to being a foster child, besides the obvious loss of family.

Like for one: getting stuck in a miniscule town with only one high school.

I started towards the general direction of the freshman wing, vaguely anticipating having to ask various teachers for the position of "'s" classroom- or whatever.

Thus branding me as the new student.

To my surprise, the boy- Seely- followed me.

"New here, huh?"

I froze his slight smile with an icy glare.

"What is it to you?" I enunciated, before stomping off.

The sad thing was, he followed me.

"'s class is in the senior wing," he uttered in surprise, glancing down at my schedule.
So they had tried to place me in an advanced English class.

"I have her too first period. Come on."

And so I followed Seely down the hall, trying not to look as though I was actually relying on him to reach my destination.