I walk into my language arts classroom and let out a huge sigh. I had just encountered yet another major fight with my so-called "best friend" Alison DiLaurentis. We had planned to have a sleepover Saturday night, but for the third time this month, she bailed on me for her older friend Cece. Alison and I have been best friends since before kindergarten, but lately all she seems to care about is her older friends and her stupid high school boyfriends. What was so great about high school boys anyway? We're in eighth grade; it's only one year off. But all of the sudden I'm not good enough for Alison. On the outside, I just act angry. Really, on the inside, Ali blowing me off really hurts. She's always been pretty with her long, wavy, blonde hair and her deep blue eyes, but I always thought she would pick me over those hormonal boys. Like Ali always says "you think you know people, and then they surprise you."

I turn my focus back to my teacher, Mrs. Gally. School is more important for my future anyway. Especially if I want to out-shine my older sister Melissa. My parents have always chosen her over me, ever since I was five. I'll never forget that day she told me, "I'll always beat you. You may as well stop trying now." Well guess what? I'm in eighth grade, taking all honors courses, with straight A's for as long as I can remember. I will never stop trying.

So much for paying attention.

"Miss Hastings?" Mrs. Gally calls my name. She is standing next to a boy my age who has long hair, almost down to his shoulders. He wears a tan, hand me down jacket, and holds his backpack slung over one of his shoulders.

"Yes Mrs. Gally?" I hesitantly reply. I am shy by nature, and I hate being called out on in front of the class.

"Would you mind showing Mr. Caleb Rivers around here at Rosewood Middle School? He has just moved here from California, and needs someone as academically talented as you to show him the ropes. Caleb? Why don't you tell the class a bit about yourself?" Mrs. Gally was certainly a talker.

"Well I just moved here from California, and apparently, I need someone as "academically talented" as Miss Hastings here to show me around," Caleb replies sarcastically. A few giggles erupt around the class, and Caleb gets a stern look from the teacher. I for one am not amused by this back talk. I bite my tongue to refrain from calling him an asshole in front of the class.

Instead, I reply a simple "sure." Caleb sulks over to the desk next to mine and slouches into his chair, forcing his hand into my personal bubble.

"Hey Spencer, Caleb Rivers." I hesitantly grab his hand and slightly shake it in the process.

"It's a pleasure."

While I am having the great pleasure of talking to my smartass friend Mr. Rivers, I have failed to notice Andrew Campbell walk into the classroom. He is one of the only other people (besides Melissa) who can actually outsmart me. We have a mutual hate for each other solely for this reason. He's been number one in our class since they actually started keeping track of that stuff, leaving me at a measly number two. Andrew makes his way over to his desk, which to my dismay, is directly next to mine.

Caleb must sense the tension in the air, because as soon as Andrew takes his seat, he asks me, "If this guy ever tries to make a move on you, call me and I'll kick his ass."

I am stunned for two reasons. First of all, Caleb is implying Andrew actually likes me. Yeah right. He hates me just as much as I hate him, If not more. Secondly, Caleb is being genuinely nice. He's implying he would actually stick up for me if we were in an alternate universe and Andrew did in fact want to go out with me. This Caleb kid may not actually be half bad.

"So I guess you better call me sometime if we're gonna work on this project together." Caleb slides me a piece of paper with a number written on it, apparently his phone number. Oh yeah. I was supposed to be listening to the teacher. I guess I'm supposed to work on some pointless project with the sassy new kid. What a great start to the day. Man I hate language arts.

Now comes the part of the day I really dread, seeing Alison at our lockers. I know how this'll go. She'll come over to me with a fake expression of guilt on her face, then go on and apologize for being a bitch, using the "it's my time of the month" card. And then I'll be forced to forgive her because otherwise I'd have no friends.

Ali isn't my only friend though; I'm not THAT much of a loner. Me and Emily Fields hang out a lot, but I know if it came down to it, she would choose Ali over me any day. Anyone would really. I guess that's my real problem. I don't really have that one friend who sticks with me unconditionally. Comforts me when I'm sad instead of telling me to build a bridge and get over it.

"Spence I am so sorry about missing Saturday and fighting with you about it! I don't know what's gotten into me! It must just be my time of the month!" Wow, so predictable. I consider telling her off. Telling her that I'm not like everyone else in our school. I don't worship the ground she walks on. But I know if I do that, I'll have no one. That's how middle school works. You make one mistake, and everyone turns against you.

So instead of giving Ali a piece of my mind, I just reply "It's okay Ali," and engulf her in a huge hug. I hate eighth grade.