Hola hola hola! Como estas mis amigos? I am back for another chapter of… Zia Goes to BAG! Hold your applause. I know it has been a long time, and I apologize. But I have been oober busy with school, basketball, crew, the school play, and my other activities, so you must forgive me. Anyways, I know you all aren't reading this anyways. So I can write whatever I want. PURPLE PLATAPUSES PACKED PINK PILLOWS WHILE THEY PERFECTLY PONDERED PLANTING PURPLE PETUNIAS! Ah, well, now that that is out of my system. EDDIE FREDDIE TEDDIE AND MEDDIE ATE A BLUE WHALE. Wow, that is why my middle name is random. YOLO! Anyways, my best friend Sadie will do the disclaimer.

Sadie: We are not Best Friends.

Me: Yes we are!

Sadie: No. We are not. You smell like fish sticks.

Me: Finally somebody notices my perfume! See, that is why we are best friends.

Sadie: WE ARE NOT Best Friends!

Me: I know you are but what am I?

Sadie: What? That doesn't make any sense.

Me: I know you are but what am I eating?

Sadie: …

Me: FISH STICKS ATE PURPLE PLATAPUSES!

Sadie: magicalunicorn000 does not own the Kane Chronicles. Thank the Gods.

Me: You are impossible.

Sadie: I am impossible? I… am ignoring you now. (Walks away)

Me: (Singing) all by my se-e-eeeeeeelllllffffff!

Z

I

A

I was on my way to dance, when suddenly a boy began walking up right next to me.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi." I replied.

"I'm Jake." He told me, holding out his hand.

"Zia." I replied, shaking his hand.

"So, you new here?"

"Yes. I just moved here about a week ago."

"Where from?"

"Cairo, Egypt." I replied.

"Whoa! Long way from home!"

"Yeah, over 20, 000 miles."

He laughed. "Where do you live?" I raised my eyebrow at him. "Not… not that I am a stalker or anything… I was just… I…"

"Right on the east river. On Rosetta Road." I replied, stopping him from rambling.

"Cool, I live on Connecticut Ave."

"Pretty close. You walk here?"

"Yep, you?"

"Most of the time." I wasn't about to tell him that I usually either a) take a portal of swirling sand or b) fly in a boat pulled by a giant griffin.

"Where you headed?" he asked.

"Mrs. Trotsky, dance."

"Cool, that's where I am going!"

"Convenient." I replied with a smile, he reminded me a bit of Carter, not looks wise, because he was a blonde haired blue eyed, slightly tanned boy. He was taller than me, which is quite a feat considering I am 5'9, with pretty well developed muscles. He spiked his blonde hair up with some hair gel, and was adorned in light jeans, a red t-shirt with a soccer ball on it, and black converse. But it was personality wise that he reminded me of my own boyfriend. He was sweet and a bit shy, with a sort of geeky vibe to him, which, I have to admit; I can't resist in a guy. With some girls, it's the broad shoulders or the athletic ability, but with me, I can't resist a handsome geek. Why do you think I love Carter so much? Well, that and because Carter is the sweetest, most thoughtful guy on Earth.

"So you dance?" I asked Jake, starting the conversation again.

"Yeah, doesn't look like it right? I didn't come here because of dance though; it is sort of my second sport. I came here because BAG actually has one of the best soccer teams in all of NYC."

"Really? I actually play soccer, too."

"Awesome! You know tryouts are next week, think you are going to come? I don't know, sounds fun. I always loved playing it. But I am probably a bit rusty."

"We can practice together if you want." I was starting to get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, a feeling Carter wouldn't be too thrilled I was flirting with another guy. NOT that I was flirting. I was just being polite, but still. I don't want to lead him on.

"Oh Um, That's OK. I probably will just wing it." I replied, trying to put some distance between us.

Jake laughed. "Yeah, that is probably what I will end up doing too."

Silence.

"I hope Ms. Trotsky is nice." He broke the silence.

"You have never had her before?"

"No, she is new. Last year we had Ms. Corey, but she left because she had a baby."

"Oh. Well, based off when I met her at my audition, she seems really cool. And a good dancer."

"Hmm, maybe she will turn things around then. We can finally beat MAPA."

"MAPA? What's that?"

"Our rival school for over fifty years. It started when our principals, a divorced couple, decided to instigate a dance competition between the two schools. For the first 40 years, BAG always creamed MAPA, Manhattan Academy for the Performing Arts, but for the last 10 years, when Ms. Corey came, well, she wasn't exactly the best choreographer, and we have lost to them for the past 10 years. It didn't help that our dancers for the past 10 years have been, well, not the best."

"Hmm. Maybe we can change that." I replied, the wheels in my head turning.

"Oops, here we are." Jake said. I had been so busy chatting I hadn't noticed we were about to pass the door to the studio. We walked in and inside, there were already about thirty other freshmen and sophomores, all staring at us. I quickly went to the bathroom and changed into my clothes. When I came back out, Mrs. Trotsky was there. I went over to where Jake was, stretching.

"Hey." I said, sitting beside him.

"Hey, I'm just stretching."

"Oh good. I thought you were having a back spasm or something."

He laughed. Then Ms. Trotsky walked to the front of the class. When she spotted me, she smiled and I returned it. "Class, for those of you who do not know me, I am Ms. Trotsky, your new dance instructor. Now, before we go around with your names, I will tell you a bit about my class. Now, I am a dancer, and I enjoy having fun with my dances, but that does not mean I am also not serious about it. You all have something in common. Talent. You all are probably striving for one thing." She paused. "Fame. Well, fame costs, and right here is where you start paying… in sweat." (That was from the TV show FAME FYI, I do not own the line, so don't sue)

We all stared at her expectedly. "Alright, everybody up and in a circle. We will go around with names, where you are from, a fun fact about yourself, and your favorite dance style and move."

Almost everybody said either Jazz or Hip Hop as his or her favorite style. There were also a ton of ballerinas. Jake's favorite was hip-hop. Only about three other girls, one guy, and I said modern and contemporary. But that was mostly because most people didn't know what it was. Ms. Trotsky was in complete shock. She said we might have to start out with contemporary and modern now. Works for me! Everyone, of course, was surprised that I was from Egypt, but not too surprised, since after all, we do live in NYC, the boiling pot of America.

Overall, it was a great class, and I made two new friends, Jake of course, and Cassidy, his girlfriend. I was actually sort of relieved when he introduced her to me, as now I knew where we stood. We were just friends.

I showered and changed out of my dance clothes, and headed down to my locker with Jake and Cassidy. She had just pushed Jake down the stairs (sort of) for being a "dufus" as she called him, and he was complaining that he could have been dead.

"Cass, I could have died!"

"Yeah, yeah, crybaby." She retorted. We looked at each other and laughed.

"I mean, how would you have felt if I had died?"

Cassidy stared at him blankly for a second and then pretended to look off into outer space. "Only in my dreams." She sighed jokingly, and then pulled him close to her to reassure him that in fact, she would be heartbroken.

"Sorry baby." She told him, and kissed him on the cheek.

"So what class do you two lovebirds have next?" I asked.

"Chemistry." They groaned in unison.

"Your favorite class I am guessing?"

"It's horrible!" Cassy groaned. "Mr. Nealie is cool I guess, but he unfortunately got stuck with teaching the most boring, excruciatingly painful class known to man and woman.

I laughed. "It can't be that bad."

"Well, you haven't taken it, we have." Cassy shot back.

"Touché."

I heard someone call for me. It was Marie. "Zia!" She called.

"Hey! How was vocal?"

"Awesome! Ms. Marinara is the coolest! She actually had us try and do the break the glass thing you were talking about!"

"Ah, so I am not going crazy. Good to know." I retorted.

Marie smirked. "Well, let's not jump to conclusions just yet, I think we should probably all be cautious and check your mental sanity every so often."

"Oh, Marie, this is Jake, and his girlfriend Cassidy. They are both dancers."

"Oh great, first day of school and you are already pushing me out with your cool new dancer friends. Nice knowing you Zia. It's been a great friendship."

"Cassy, Jake, this is my friend Marie. Please ignore her whenever possible." I joked. They shook hands and began talking about how excited they were for the new school year and the dance competition between us and MAPA that was apparently a really big deal around here.

The warning bell rang, warning us that second block started in just 7 minutes. "We better get to chemistry." Cassy said, looking at her watch. "See you later guys! Sit together at lunch?"

"Of course!" Marie replied.

"Definitely!" I echoed.

"Cool. See yah!" Cassy waved, then grabbed Jake's arm and ran to the chem. Lab on the fifth floor. Marie and I meanwhile headed to our lockers, grabbed a notebook and a folder and a pen each, then headed towards the gym for health class.

"I hope this isn't a co-ed class." Marie whispered.

"Well Marie, in case you hadn't noticed we sort of go to a co-ed school, so that would sort of make sense if this class was co-ed."

Marie groaned. "Zia, you aren't worried?"

"About what? All we are going to do is learn about our body systems and how to keep them healthy and all that."

"Umm, Zia?"

"What?"

"Have you ever actually been to an actual health class, at an actual school?"

"No. But I did go to a fake health class at an imaginary school."

"Zia! Be serious for like one second! Do you know what exact body systems we learn about?"

"Well, probably the normal stuff right?"

I was wrong. VERY wrong. We did not learn about all the body systems. We mainly focused on two. I'm not going to disclose which two, but I'll give you a hint. I don't think I have blushed so much within a forty-minute period of time.

…40 Minutes Later…

Marie and I walked out of the gym in silence.

I broke it. "That… was… extremely and terrifyingly disturbing."

"You said it." Marie replied, still blushing from the class.

"I can't believe we had to take notes on that. I think that could be considered child abuse." Silence again.

Then Marie and I burst out laughing.

Next we had language. Nothing much to say here. Ms. Mimi was nice. It turns out I know a lot of Spanish due to French. The languages are very similar. Although I don't understand why Spanish is a romance language. It doesn't sound half as romantic as French. Except when that cute guy from the soap opera we watched speaks. Then it is a romance language.

After language, Marie and I met back up for chemistry. It wasn't half as bad as Cassy and Jake had described. In fact, I rather enjoyed it. Especially balancing chemistry equations. No that's what I call fun. I like it when things just, fit together, balance out. Maybe that's why I like chemistry. Marie on the other hand, was far from enthusiastic.

"That stunk." She said, trailing behind me.

"It wasn't bad. Hurry up, we have three minutes to get to math." I started pushing her along.

"You know, saying the word math in a sentence isn't exactly what I would call a great motivational word to get me to move faster." Marie replied.

"Hey, I bet that cute guy in row 5 that was checking you out earlier will be there."

Her face suddenly lit up like a firecracker and she began power walking down to math. "Come on Zia! We have three minutes to get to math.

Remember what I said earlier about how I liked the feeling I got when I figured things out, balanced the equation. Yeah, well, that makes math pretty easy for me. Math was pretty eventless; unless you include Marie falling out of her chair because she was staring at "row 5 guy" so intensely her elbow slipped on her math book a major event. But I think Marie would prefer if you didn't.

I talked with Sadie for a bit in the hallway. We silently agreed not to sit with each other at lunch. Around here, you stuck with your grade. Freshmen with freshmen, sophomores with sophomores, etc. Then at the 21st Nome, we could mix.

At lunch we sat with Jake, Cassidy, Jake's friends Mark and Alex, and Cassidy's friends Amy and Susan. They were pretty cool. Somehow we got into a conversation about how they make piecrust, and what our favorite type of pie was. The majority liked key lime. Interesting.

After lunch was Technology, and then guidance. Guidance was fine; we just watched an anti bullying movie. But technology was TERRIBLE. I may not have mentioned this before, but I am an absolute dolt when it comes to technology. I had never even seen a computer before this summer when Carter tried to teach me how to use one. I could type papers and make power point presentations fine and everything. But that was about it. I do not understand the Internet one bit, except for Google, that I can use pretty well. But when it comes to setting up new accounts or setting settings or anything else of that nature, I am about as clueless as a giraffe in the middle of Antarctica. To put it simply: I think Ms. Darnell thinks I'm an idiot, which, in technology, I am. I am so a 20th century gal.

Next we had English. We were reading The Odyssey and The Iliad, studying nouns, and writing a short paragraph about ourselves to be read aloud to the class on Friday. All things I had been doing since I was eight years old. Well, except for the paragraph, I'm not that vain. Marie made fun of me when I told her I had read The Odyssey over eight times.

"You nerd." She laughed. I rolled my eyes.

Finally, we had Ancient Civilizations. I automatically became Ms. Habit's favorite student when I told her I moved here from Egypt. She asked me so many questions, we barely had any time to do anything else but pass out textbooks.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted. Marie invited me over to her house, and I said yes, since we didn't have any homework except write a rough draft of your "me paragraph" which was a slice of pie. Is that right? These American phrases are so difficult to understand. (Marie just told me something could be easy as pie, or a piece of cake.) Oh these Americans and their crazy food obsessions.

Wow that took me like, two hours to write. Mostly because I had to go play basketball for an hour. Oh Well. I hope you liked it. If you did, please go ahead and hit that little blue box down there to REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. I am off to rewatch CAPTAIN AMERICA for the 50th time. Peace, Love, and something that rhymes with love! –magicalunicorn000