Hi. My name is Cassandra Martin. I'm 16 years old and live in a small town house with my dad. We moved to Japan 2 years ago. Since then I've only made one friend. Her name is Anju. We're really close, but I think that's only 'cause we're all each other have. If that wasn't the case, the fact that we're polar opposites would surely drive us apart.

My hair is my favorite quality about myself. It's brown, wavy, and goes down to my waist. I don't cut it for my own reasons. I have hazel eyes. I'm not the skinniest kid, but I'm not exactly fat either. I guess you could say I'm medium.

Anyway, maybe I should start getting to the story. The story of how my life changed completely, I went from poor to rich, and got married for my 17th birthday.

"I am going to KILL Sara when I find her," I muttered as I pedaled my bike down the road, my hair blowing behind me. My cousin had scored a teaching job at Ouran Private Academy: home of the rich and spoiled. How could Sara be working with practical celebrities while my dad was a busboy and I was taking orders at a fast food drive thru? It wasn't fair.

I glanced at the address I had written down. It matched with that displayed on the giant ivory gate I saw, but… There was no way this could be a school. 6 of my school could fit inside with room to spare. The yard was pampered beyond compare, decorated with fountains, ponds, hedges, and flowers. A colossal, pink clock tower overlooked a cluster of large buildings.

"Ho. Ly. Crap," I uttered. I saw students chatting under white columns and in allies- yes, this place was so big it had allies- and on benches. The boys wore expensive-looking black dress pants and shoes, a white undershirt, and purple-blue jacket with the school logo on it, and a tie. The girls wore a slightly simple yellow dress with a red bow, white lace collars, black Mary Jane's, and white stockings. I glanced down at my school uniform: a lavender blazer with sleeves that ended at my elbows and had white cuffs on the ends, a black tie, a simple white collar, a dark colored miniskirt, knee high white socks, and black shoes with a buckle on the side. I always personally liked this uniform. It's comfortable and cute. But compared to what these kids were wearing, it looked like crap.

After going through some security procedures, I finally entered.

"Excuse me," I asked someone sheepishly. "Where can I put my bike…?" They laughed, stuck up their face, and walked away. Of course. Rich people drive- or are drove- everywhere. I laid my bike against a tree and told it my good-byes. I was sure it wouldn't be there when I got back.

As I approached the pink Hogwarts, I felt everyone I passed stare at me like I was a newly discovered species. But not a necessarily big find, like a still living dinosaur; more like a new type of insect. Great. These people would think of me as Bug Girl.

I ignored their whispers as I came into the academy. My jaw dropped. It was even bigger on the inside than the out. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Exotic plants were everywhere. The stairwells and balconies were gigantic. Yup. Definitely a pink Hogwarts.

I stuck my hand in my shirt pocket and searched for the slip of paper with the room number on it. Crap. It was in my bike basket. I let out an exasperated sigh. Why couldn't I remember things? Was Sara a music or art teacher? Was she on the first or second floor? Come to think of it, was she even in this building? I wanted to cry and kick myself at the same time.

Then my bipolar mind came up with an idea. I would just ask a student where her room was. ALL rich people couldn't be jerks, right?
Wrong, apparently. Everyone I approached either walked away, ignored me, or gave me a disgusted look. I sighed.

I narrowed Sara down to being an art or music teacher. That was a start. And I knew there was a 3 somewhere in the room number. That had to be worth something. But oh, this was impossible! Why did she need my help anyway? Again: I'm gonna kill her. After wandering around for nearly half an hour, I stumbled upon a room labeled "Music Room #3." I should've known that the class I was looking for had a 2 digit number. But the microscopic spark of hope I felt was too much. I opened the door… and changed my life forever.