The past is a very ironic concept.

It is one of the only things that is capable of mentally, as well as physically weighing you down. Therapist after therapist, I had slowly grown to learn to adapt to my future, and forget every mistake I had made previously in my very short-lived life. They had all told me the same thing repeatedly, "The past does not defy you, it is the future, which truly distinguishes your strength."

See, that s where I think therapist's have it so, completely [I]wrong[/I]. If they honestly knew a thing or two about the life of a teenager, they'd realize mistakes aren't always so easy to forget and move on from. Especially when you're forced into relishing them every time you close your eyes to succumb to sleep. It's a shame there isn't a college course called, "reality".

Lets take a step backwards, shall we?

I'm Kaileigh Rowen, current heir and daughter of the Rowen embassy, which is also widely known for being accompanied by the Coyne family. My Mother, Catherine, was the sister of Laura Rowen, now recognized as Laura Coyne.

The past, everything I can't seem to get off of my mind for three seconds, is what caused me to live with my cousin Fiona in the quaint town of Toronto, Canada. Which also means I was forced to enroll in the local community school to live as simply as I could until I turned eighteen and got the hell out of there.

Me, being the curious little devil I am, had done my research the moment I heard the news. The first website I had scrolled my curser over, had been a website called the anti-grapevine, which to my knowledge was a blogspot that was infamous for bashing and dishing practically every student enrolled. Seemed like a collective Formspring to me. The next two were online news articles; one about a shooting, the other about a false stabbing. I felt my eyes widen slightly at those two. Where the hell was I being sent off to?

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" I subtly felt a mass shift the king size bad and pull my cocoon of blankets away from my sleeping form. A groan escaped my lips as my warmth was stolen viciously.

"Fifi... why so early?" I mumbled, my small hands attempting to grab the vintage print comforter back.

"Ah ah, ah, it's... seven o'clock. School starts in an hour and a half. Don't want to be fashionably late on your first day of grade 11, do you?" I opened my dark iris s and sighed, watching as she glimpsed through my dresser for what I assumed would be a good first day outfit. Apparently they had just lifted a short-term dress code, and Fi was dying to express her happiness.

"I'm up, I'm up." Rubbing the sleep away from my eyes with the palms of my hands, I sighed softly and mentally shooed her out. I loved her to death, but when sleep was needed, she was much of a joy kill. My lengthy, brunette hair cascaded messily down my back as I stood up, padding barefoot to the bathroom. After letting the hot water run out from the shower nozzle, I wrapped a fluffy white towel around my body and wiped the mirror with another. My body was red and sore from the heat, and I hissed as I pressed my fingertips across my skin. Glancing up at the mirror once more, I fought to urge to sneak out the window and run far away from here. I realized that that hadn't done me much in the past, and it would ve do any good now. This was my last chance.

Although I prefer not to, I was rushed so I yanked out my blow dryer from the cabinet, and started on my hair. Once curling it in large, imperfect dark curls, I applied a thin coat of foundation, charcoal eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, and bronzer. I sprayed a few squirts of Betsy Johnson to my pulse points, and figured I would see what exactly it was Fi had picked out for me to wear. My body lagged as I dragged my feet into the bedroom once more.

It actually wasn't to flamboyant, and I half-smiled in satisfaction, pulling on the slightly ripped skinny jeans and throwing my binder into my messenger bag. I should've known she would've chosen heals, but the beige ankle boots weren't too awful. At least I'd be able to manage to walk in them, unlike the other collection of heals that took up our joint closet.

Making sure my Monroe and belly ring was in place, I grabbed my bag with one hand and threw it across my shoulder, while running the other through my hair. Old habits die hard.

Fiona looked up at me from the kitchen island and grinned warmly, tossing me a granola bar. "Already called the cab, should be here in 5 minutes." I raised an arched eyebrow and smirked.

"Quite prepared, are we?"

Hopping up to take a seat upon the granite counters, I watched with approving eyes as she laughed softly and balanced a blue water bottle between her hands. Her blue eyes sparkled, a small blush creeping across her pale cheeks.

"Would a certain booooy have anything to do with this?" I dragged out the O, crossing my arms across my chest teasingly, sending her a sideways glance.

"N-no. I just want you to be well prepared for your first day at Degrassi." She didn't seem to think I noticed her stammer quietly at the beginning, but I did. Fi was never shy. Period.

"Well, whoever he is, he must be special if you've got your eye set on him, Ms. Coyne."

Just as she opened her mouth to reply shyly, the cab honked outside and her eyes sparkled one more. "You ready?"

My smile faltered. Why on earth was I nervous? I hadn't the slightest care in the world about the ignorant teenagers at a public school; if they judged me, I shouldn't be concerned.

I had to remind myself how to breathe.

"IS that a real question?"

My schedule was nothing out of the ordinary; Grade 11 English, Calculus (I had been far advanced in my private studies when to came to math), Chemistry, and History. The electives I had chosen weeks before were Creative Writing, Photography, and Digital Media. I was excited for the photography course; it has always been a passion of mine. When I was little, it started out as candids of my parents and family, but as I progressed and improved, I had actually placed in a few local competitions around the New York area.

Graciously, Holly J had helped me find my locker and took me on a quick tour of the campus. I had a difficult time keeping up with her as she expertise made her way through the mass of students. Although Declan had skyped me countless of depressed and Holly-deprived video messages, I still seemed fond of her. Unlike half of the fake tramps my cousin brought around, she was civilized and independent.

"Anything else?"

I pulled myself from my inward banter and blinked repeatedly, slightly dumbfound. Somehow, she found this quite funny.

"No. I think I'm good."

Doubting this, she gave me my schedule back, and took a pen out of her purse. Confused, I watched as she traced in blue ballpoint the easiest ways to get to class on a map of Degrassi.

"Thanks, Holly J." I was relieved, and my voice proved that.

"No problem. If you have any problems, feel free to run to the office and they should help you there. Either that or go straight to Simpson."

I nodded, taking it in and smiling as she eyed me carefully, before turning on her heal and walking away.

The clock nearest read 8:17.

13 minutes to kill. Clicking my tongue, I turned sharply, fumbling with my new locker number. According to Fiona, it was located near the English wing. Simple enough, English was my first period. My dark hair tumbled behind me as my heals clicked along the blue and yellow linoleum tiles. I could vaguely feel a few stares, some from ill-mannered boys with their traps wide agape, others from girls with a slightly curious, slightly annoyed look in their eye. Either way, I shrugged it off.

I didn't like people.

Pulling my Ipod from my bag, I slipped the ear phones into my ears, letting The Maine distract me everything else. Did this school not see to new students very often? I felt like a guinea pig. The volume was nearly max as I finally found my locker; 215.

Once I figured out my combination, (though it took me several tries) I found that it was bare, and I had plans to change that very soon. With a delicate bite of my bottom lip, a small lock of hair fell in my face, and I swiped softly to tuck it behind my ear. Knowing that math, chem, and history weren't until after first period, I took them out of my book bag and slid the heavy textbooks into the top shelf.

The music was so loud that I hadn't noticed any of my surroundings whatsoever. If I would've, I would've noticed the heavy gaze of brilliant emerald eyes boring into my back. If I would've, I would've noticed a very upset auburn-curled girl with sad eyes, watching the transaction. If I would've, I would've noticed the beginning of a very difficult story.

A/N: First Degrassi story, whoooop. :3

I'm excited; are you excited? You should be excited. xD