Ever since I was little, I always believed that if I was good, I would find happiness. Movies and fairy tales depicting beautiful, rich, caring princesses always gave them a happily ever after. At the time, and even now, I never made the connection that being a beautiful princess meant that a girl could find the right one, or live a wonderful life. I always thought that it was because the princess was being good to those around her; she was always an attentive, elegant lady who treated everyone with respect and kindness. Who believed in people when maybe she should not have, but because of her good heart she would always make it through in the end.

I've begun to learn that other girls have interpreted these stories we hear and that shape our lives in ways that we don't always see in different ways. Instead of taking it as a sign that they must be good people in order to find Mr. Right, most girls take it that they have to look better or act a certain way to be a good woman. They always wanted to be princesses.

Others don't agree with that. They find the entire concept degrading and wrong. They reject the idea full-heartedly, becoming complete tomboys or Goths to show everyone that there is more to women than that. Still others, who also believe that society has put too much spotlight into the idea, making it harmful to girls' self-image, and that women don't need a man to come save them or make them happy. That we can find our own happiness.

Then there are those like me -because I do believe that there are others like me even if I haven't met them yet- who just try their best and hope for the best results.

"Oh god, what are you wearing?" A blonde girl whom I've never met is pointing at me disgustedly as I roll down my pants. We're in the locker rooms, getting changed for gym.

"Are you like, sixty or five?" She's lost the disgusted look, her lips turning into a sneer. If she weren't so expressive with her facial expressions, she would be much prettier, and save herself from a lot of wrinkles in the future.

I look down at my chosen underwear. White and kind of bunchy, they cover my hip bones, my butt, and all my private pieces. There is absolutely nothing wrong with them, but the girl seems to think so.

"I-is something wrong with them?" I ask, truly not knowing what could be her problem with them. They were freshly washed this morning, a stark, almost too bright white.

"Well for starters, my grandma has a pair." Each word is said slowly. Maybe because she wants to make sure I hear, or maybe because she has a speech impediment. It really is quite a toss up. There's a chorus of snickers that echo around the changing room, but no one adds in any of their own comments or tries to defend me.

I really don't know what to say to her, and she probably doesn't expect me to respond anyways. Instead I just shrink into myself, hoping her judging brown eyes would just focus on something else and feeling a little pity for myself. May as well if no else is going to.

Finally she just makes a small snort of disapproval in my direction and moves on to other locker rows where the rest of the girls are. It's my first day back at Queens High after two months of a glorious summer which I spent mostly with Katyusha, camping at her parents cabin. Now I'm back, in my first class of the day, and someone has already mocked me. For my underwear. Great times.

But really, I'm not teased very often. Katyusha and I have ways of flying under the radar, mostly because we both present ourselves properly and never make too much noise. We dress the right way, we don't answer too many questions in class, we don't flirt with boys in case another girl is already interested, and the only time we gossip, which is rarely, is when we are safely behind the doors of either her room or mine. There is no point in putting ourselves out there if Katyusha can barely stand being insulted whether it was meant as sarcasm or just a joke she was supposed to laugh at, and when I can't defend her as I can never find the words or the nerves. Not to mention neither of us are very good at talking to people, we tend to say the wrong jokes or talk too much about things that others aren't interested in, and the worst part is that both of our voices are so soft that people never catch much of what we're saying anyways. Eventually, I've come to realize that it saved a lot of time just talking to Kat.

Unfortunately the only class we share is Biology at the end of the day in Mr. Jason's room. Seeing as she's my only friend, every other class will be spent doing projects by myself. I don't have to worry about not having someone to talk to, though, me and Katyusha both want to get into good universities and would rather focus on our work and save socialising for later. Have I mentioned that I'm a goody-two-shoes? Because I am. Very much so, in fact, and I'm not afraid to deny it.

With black shorts on, sporting a grey high school logo'ed, recommended t-shirt and my runners' shoelaces tied, I exit the green-and-yellow themed change room and head for the gym downstairs. We probably aren't going to do much today. Simple introductions and a team-building exercise so us girls can 'bond' is what's most likely on the schedule. Opening the door to the gym, I take I sigh at the long day it was shaping up to be.

As expected, I'm the only one in here other than Mrs. Mitchell, who looks up and smiles at me from her seat on the bench when she hears my entering.

"Hi!" Her voice is full of pep. Luckily I don't mind peppy people, there's nothing wrong with having a good attitude, after all. If I did so happen to dislike the cheerful sort, I would probably come to despise gym class, and the fact would ruin my entire day further than it already was. It seemed that God was generous with my tolerance ability.

"What's your name?" She asks, gaze not returning to her open binder.

Teachers are a lot easier to talk to than peers. The age gap allows a certain level of comfort-ness and the nature of the relationship means I don't have to worry about them bugging me, other than the occasional hassle to get homework in, but I always get my things done on time, so that isn't much of a concern. "Madeline Bonnefoy, but most people just call me Maddie."

Her eyes light up, more so than they already were. "Oh! That is such a French name!"

"Yes, my family came here with all those French settlers, at least on my mom's side, until my grandparents decided to move out west. My dad is actually from France." When it comes to my heritage, I'm always proud to share the info with others. Okay, well teachers and Kat.

"That is so interesting! I'm sure the other girls would like to hear all about it!"

I give her a closed-mouth smile just because before gingerly sitting down cross-legged at a good distance from her. Not so far that it looks like I'm a loner, and not so close as to look eager and teacher's pet-ish. The girl at the locker room had already established that she could make this class tough for me, no reason to tempt fate by getting careless.

I stare at the far corner of the room, bored, as the rest of the girls come in sporadically, by themselves or in a group, in the time span of five minutes. No one comes to bother me, and I am perfectly okay with that. Once it looks like a substantial amount of students has shown up, Mrs. Mitchell hops off the bench and skips towards the doors with a bounce in her step. I watch her, since there's nothing else to do, as she peeks her head out in the open sitting area just outside the gym, then darts her head back in and closes the door.

She walks back to the seat, smiling at everyone, hands clasped together. Most don't smile back, too submerged in their own conversations to notice. I don't blame them, if Kat were here I would be talking to her, too.

"Hello, class!" her voice is so booming with enthusiasm that she easily gets everyone to turn and face her. "As some of you may know, I'm Mrs. Mitchell! I'm the coach for the volleyball team and I also teach health class! In fact, some of you may also have me for health this year, whether it's this semester or the next. I'm really excited to teach a fresh new class of girls, and I hope to get to know all of you well by the end of the semester!"

She claps her hands once, gaze searching the room. I give her a pitying smile when her eyes pass mine, but I don't know if it encouraged her or not.

"First off, I'm sure even though many of you may have a few friends in this class, I'm certain you don't know everyone! I know this may not seem important, but when it comes to participating in class and just having a good experience, it's best to build even more friendships, especially when some of you don't know anyone here. So we're gonna gather around in a big circle and try a couple of little mini-games to get acquainted!" Mrs. Mitchell is the first to get up, even leading the group to the center of the gym, sitting down cross-legged and a giddy smile on her face as she sees everyone else following. Once we're all seated, her voice rings out again.

"Okay, great, girls!" She congratulates, like we did more than just walk over here and sit down. "I'll go first, then…" She looks pointedly at the girl sitting to her right.

"Sarah."

"Sarah will go next! The goal is to try and remember as many names as you can, you'll see why afterwards." her grin takes on a certain sense of 'I know something you don't know' but it doesn't take a genius to understand that our newfound knowledge will be tested in some way.

"I'm Mrs. Mitchell!"

"I'm Sarah." The brunette gives a little wave.

The naming continues as I only half listen, waiting for my turn in the spotlight before getting ignored again. But, only two names before my own, a loud knock at the closed door interrupts the introductions.

The class begins talking to their neighbours, if they know them, and Mrs. Mitchell takes on a small frown. She uncrosses her legs and half-jogs to the door, my eyes following her every move.

Before Mrs. Mitchell can even fully open the green doors, a figure bursts into the room. I can't fully see who it is, but it's definitely another student of this gym class. I can make out her shorts and grey shirt, and just a bit of her shoulder length, sunny blonde hair.

"Hi!" Her voice is loud, but not in the same way as Mrs. Mitchell's. I can't quite place the difference, it's just there.

"Are you-"

"I'm a transfer, I only came into the city a couple days ago. You're Mrs. Mitchell, right?" her voice is smooth and easy.

"Yes, and-"

"I'm Bella!" Without listening to another word from Mrs. Mitchell, Bella sidesteps her, revealing vibrant green eyes and a pretty face as she strides over to the circle. She's looking all around at everyone until her eyes land on me. Her smile falls a little and her eyes widen slightly. I quickly turn away, feeling pretty embarrassed and inexplicably guilty. There's heat rising from my neck, and I already know my pale skin is revealing a pink hue across my cheeks.

My body stiffens as I feel a brush against my shoulder, but I don't dare look. I don't have to, the culprit is suddenly right in my face, big green eyes right on mine and a wide smile on her perfect lips.

"What's your name?" She asks, and it's so loud and clear that the noise causes my ear to vibrate with the sound. She's too loud. Too obnoxious. She may not be wearing much makeup apart from the mascara, eyeliner and lip gloss, but she's way too pretty and confident to be talking to me. She'll just attract too much attention, none of which I need.

Her eyebrow furrows as she continues to stare at me, her eye contact only breaking when Mrs. Mitchell's voice can be heard again.

"Alright everyone, since there's a new member to our little group, we'll start again from the top! I'm Mrs. Mitchell."

"I'm Sarah." The brunette states again, this time no wave for affect. The names continue down the line, the entire time Bella's leg is shaking slightly, like she can't stay in one spot for more than a second.

When it's her turn, Bella's voice has tons of energy and life. Somehow, it sounds so much more genuine coming from her than Mrs. Mitchell. I don't think she's a prep like the teacher, either.

"I'm Bella!" It was short and to the point like everyone else's, the only difference was that unlike everyone else, the blonde seemed excited about it.

It was my turn now, and even though I know that no one is looking at me and can care less, my body still freezes. "I'm M-Madeline…"

"Excuse me, dear?" The teacher asks. She could just be asking me because she wants me tell everyone myself, or because she can't remember. My bet is on the latter.

I sigh inwardly, wishing that for once, my voice would be heard the way I want it to. "I-it's M-Madeline…" Instead of adding volume, my voice comes out more shaky and quiet than before.

Mrs. Mitchell's eyes get sort of blank as she stares at me, her smile weary but still intact. What a trooper. "What was that again, honey?" My mind registers the fact that she likes to call students little pet names before going back to my speech problem at hand.

I don't have a stutter, I don't speak in short, clipped sentences nor do I have to think for a long time about what I'm going to say before I say it. I just think that sometimes, especially when in a large group of people my own age, it's sort of perfectly normal to not get past your first word like a toddler learning to speak.

The new girl, Bella, lightly nudges my arm. I still don't look at her as I raise my head, keeping my periwinkle eyes on Mrs. Mitchell. "My name is Madeline." My voice isn't very loud, it doesn't fill the room, cause anyone to turn heads or change their opinion of me. It's still as quiet as a mouse, and could be lost in the wind. But there is no wind, and Mrs. Mitchell nods her head at my introduction, a warm smile on her face.

"Thank you, Madeline." the girl next to me says her name, and eventually the entire circle is done. We go through the little mini-game, the introduction taking up the entire class time as indicated when Mrs. Mitchell checks her watch and sees we all have to change.

I get up slowly, and am met with a blonde, green-eyed girl a few inches taller than me. Her stance is filled with confidence, hands on her hips and a small smile gracing her lips.

"So it's Madeline, huh?"

I nod quickly and move past her in a fast pace. She walks beside me, matching my steps perfectly. "That's a cool name. You ever see that one French cartoon with a girl named Madeline? Ya know, where she's a little orphan girl in a yellow dress?"

I blush a little, since it was the very character I was named after. "Y-yes…"

"I watched that show all the time. I don't think it airs anymore, though."

I feel a sudden urge to tell her that I didn't think so, either, but stopped myself just as the words were about to come out. She seems like a nice enough person and I don't want to be mean to her, but there are rules that I already have set in place for myself, and making friends is against them. Bella doesn't seem to mind though, as we walk to the end of the hall, up the stairs and into the change rooms.

She actually talks the whole time, about her hometown in Belgium and how her dad got laid off and the economy wasn't so good, so they came to Canada, the land of opportunity. At least, that's what she called it. Her mouth never seized to move even when they got to the change room, Bella walked to her own locker and came back to mine with a bag in hand.

"So, what class do you have next?"

I concentrate on changing into a red sweater and leggings rather than answer her.

She isn't fazed. "I have social with Mr. Vargas."

My body locks at the new information. We have the same social class. She doesn't notice my lack of movement, however, and keeps going.

"I heard he's got a younger brother who goes here in the same grade as us. Have you had Mr. Vargas before? Is he hot?"

I have had the strict, perpetually angry Italian teacher last year, but I never really thought of him in that light before. Maybe if he didn't have such a short fuse...

"Well, he's gotta be young if his brother really does go here. Seriously, how awesome would it be if they were both hot?"

I haven't heard of this supposed younger brother before, and I actually went here last year! Not to mention I've lived here my entire life, where as she only showed up in the country a few days ago. It's not all that big of a deal, but I'm still a little surprised of my own hermit-like ways.

"But maybe it's best not to put all my efforts on boys right now. They'll come to me eventually." Her voice is so certain of this that I almost think she's joking. Boys don't just come to people. Or maybe they do, for people like her. I just have to wait for the right boy, is all.

By the time I've got my glasses on and turn to leave, it strikes me that Bella is already dressed in a black t-shirt, forest green shorts and a matching ribbon used as a headband, just standing there leaning on the lockers. "What class do you have?" She asks for the second time. "Maybe we're going the same direction."

A heavy feeling of guilt rises through my chest knowing that I still didn't answer her question. "Y-yeah…"

We walk through the crowded hallway, getting closer and closer to social. When we got right outside the door, Bella gave me an inquisitive look, one which I shied away from, before entering the classroom.

"Madison."

I freeze. The class may be half-full, and my caller may be hidden amongst the students, but I can recognize the British accent, the aloof and distant tone anywhere. More importantly, he is the only one who's ever called me that.

Arthur Kirkland.

I don't even get the chance to pretend I haven't heard him as he calls out again. "Madison, come here." It's not a question or a suggestion, it's a command.

I shift my eyes to Bella, who's expectantly waiting for me to choose a place, so gathering up what little energy I have, I make my way to the third row where Arthur is. When I walk past Arthur to sit at the place behind him, he clears his throat. Why is this guy such a pain in the ass? And, more importantly, why do I always listen to him like some sort of lap dog?

Bella crashes into me, since I had just stopped without warning. She easily gains back her balance and stops me from tumbling over by grabbing my elbow. "Hey, are you okay?"

" She's fine." Arthur answers for me.

Bella looks at him like he's an alien before directing me to the spot beside him. She plops herself down at the seat ahead of me and swivels her entire torso to me.

"Have you had Mr. Vargas for anything before, Madeline?"

I nod.

"What's he like? I hope he marks easy, I'm not really the best at school."

"Unsurprising." Arthur states in a cynical tone, not so much as glancing over at us.

Bella's green eyes widen for a moment, but then she just grins.
"I guess we can't all be as good as the posh and proper English, can we, Madeline?"

Is this how you're supposed to talk to boys? If so, I may as well invest in a few cats now.

"Madison, are you friends with this inadequate girl? If so, I highly advise getting a new criteria for who you choose to spend your time with."

"Why are you calling her Madison? Her name is Madeline."

"Well I couldn't possibly expect someone like you to understand."

"Arthur, would you please stop arguing with Bella?" I ask a bit desperately, my voice the clearest it's been so far. I give Bella a quick glance, noting that now I'm the one she's staring at as if I were an alien.

"We are not arguing, Madison, just discussing our differences."

"You always say that…" I grumble, but Arthur's nimble ears catch it anyways as indicated by his slight frown.

Bella suddenly leans in and I jerk back at the fast motion. "Madeline, is your name really Madison, and I've just been calling you by the wrong name this whole time?" She whispers.

"N-no, Arthur is just-… well, h-he's always been-"

"Alright class, I'm Mr. Vargas, this is social 20. If you didn't know that or you've got the wrong class, get out." It's Mr. Vargas. He's found his way to the front and center of the class without anyone noticing. No one gets up or even blinks as he scans the class, a grumpy look on his face.

"Good, glad that's settled. Now for your first group project-" There's a collective groan heard, and Mr. Vargas seems none too happy about it. "Shu- quiet down! Next person who so much as breathes the wrong way is getting a D.T." He threatens, successfully getting the entire class to close their mouths. "You will pick a nation or nation state- yes?"

We all turn our necks to a kid smack in the middle of the desks, who had just been raising his hand. "What's the difference between a nation and a nation state?"

Mr. Vargas sighed loudly, as if he were questioning himself on just why he chose teaching as his career. "A nation state is defined by it's borders, government, and all that. It's basically a country. A nation is individually defined by groups of people who share similarities. Try to remember this."

"As I was saying, this is your first group project of the year. You will, as a group, pick a nation and give at least three points that increase and decrease it's national pride." He strode over to his desk, picking up a stack of white papers and handing them out. Once I got one I read the instructions to the project and the criteria we're being marked on. "We'll go to the computer lab to work on this tomorrow, and you'll present it on Friday. Any other questions?"

A girl raised her hand at the back of the class. "What is it?" He nearly snapped.

The girl had a cool expression on her face, like she wasn't bothered by Mr. Vargas' attitude. "How big can our groups be?"

"No more than three. Now, is that it? Can we finally be done with this?" No one moved an inch. "Okay, go ahead and choose your groups." Before Mr. Vargas made it back to his desk, most students were already picking their partners.

"Madeline, be my partner."

"Madison, we're partners."

The two said simultaneously, going as far as glaring at each other at the same time.

"It's obvious Madison will be my partner. We are friends after all."

"I'm pretty sure friends call each other by their actual names."

"That statement only shows how little you know of Madison and anything in general."

"At least I didn't demand her to be my partner, Mr. Bossy Pants."

"I'd prefer to-" Of course, Mr. Vargas just had to come around to our row, taking away my chance to tell both of them that I would rather not work with them. In retrospect, Arthur probably would have swindled me into it either way, but that's besides the point.

"You three partners?"

"Yes!" Bella declared.

"No." Arthur protested.

"Uhm… I-I…" Were the only words I'd managed to get past my lips. Mr. Vargas is a really scary teacher, okay?

Mr. Vargas may as well have been ignoring Arthur and me, his amber eyes locked on Bella. "Good." He turned around, going to bug other groups.

And with that, I was forced into being partners with a crazy blonde and controlling Brit, all without seeing Kat, the one person I actually wanted to talk to today.

Author's Note:

Sooo... new story. Honestly, I forgot I created this account a few years ago. I made a new one but forgot the password and apparently I can't go back to it for some reason, so this one will do! For anyone curious, my other account was Nom-Nom123 and I had one story on there; Another Separation, also a Hetalia fic.

Any who, this is a high school AU set in Edmonton (Alberta) because Canadians don't all live in Toronto. Or Vancouver. Yeah, a few more characters will be put in their places later. I'm sorry if you were hoping for yuri, there isn't going to be any in this. It's mostly a friendship fic that will get into some romance themed stuff later. But the main point is FRIENDSHIP. Because for some reason, fanfic writers tend to forget that what makes high school isn't the boys you date, but the girls that are there for you after the break up.

Yeah, I'm gettin' all sentimental up in here! Haters gonna hate B)

Before anyone can ask for certain pairings, I want to make a few things clear here! USXUK IS NEVER HAPPENING HERE. NO. If you like it, good for you, but not everyone does. I myself despise the pairing and hate when it's added into stories where neither character is the protagonist, or even a main character. It's annoying and distracting. I don't really know if there will be Spamano and/or GerIta, none of the characters in those pairings are relevant to this story, so chances are they won't be, because even though I don't mind those pairings I know some people won't even LOOK at fics that involve them in a romantical sense. I can't be a hypocrite. if there are going to be minor pairings, they will most likely center around Belgium or Ukraine, as they are two of the three main characters.

Oh yes, and I don't own Hetalia in any way, shape or form. I'm not that ballsy.