Junior High was like a kingdom. Okay, I could admit that—I suppose. There were the queens who flaunted around the school grounds like they owned the place in their designer underwear. There were jesters who made the whole class burst into laughter over a tuna sandwich. There were the dark knights who wore over-sized clothing, slit their wrists, listened to depressing music, and had their bangs covering one of their eyes; people that made you cry. There were the king's mistresses who dressed in their low-cut skirts and their off-the-shoulder shirts kissing anything male within a five feet perimeter. There were the donkeys who couldn't receive a GPA higher than 2.0 putting in an honest effort.

And then there was me...

The eighth graders picked a few unlucky kids to exclude just because they could. It was a Seiyo tradition like fathers chasing their sons around the yard with power tools. We were like, the super villains of the school, and people scattered away from us like they did in The Diary of a Wimpy Kid when someone got the cheese touch. One of those kids—unfortunately—was me.

I don't really know who decides this circle of rising hatred that is directed towards me, but it's definitely decided by the cool kids, or the 'populars'—as everyone calls them. I don't particularly get it. Everyone bows down at their feet willing to do anything for 'your majesty.' I honestly don't think they're that great, but I suppose everyone's entitled to an opinion.

The populars are relevant to everyone, so I might as well tell you about them now.

First off, there's the cool-and-spicy Hinamori Amu who has shoulder-length bubble gum hair and dresses like a total goth. Utau Hoshina who's a pop-star to be or at least has the attitude to be a teenage drama queen (haha, get it...). Lastly comes Yaya Yuiki who has this incurable addiction to all things with a sugar concentrate in it. She's kind of... hyperactive?

As far as the guys go, there's Ikuto Tsukiyomi—Mr. Black Cat—who's the biggest pervert ever who, of course, all the girls fawn over. Tadase Hotori: the world's most gay person ever, who has the prince charm to win every girl over. Then there's Nagihiko Fujisaki—Perfect Playboy—who was... perfect.

For some reason, the world had nothing on Nagihiko Fujisaki. Yes, he was a playboy, but he was no where near comparable to Ikuto who was addicted to girls like fat people were to foot-longs at Subway. That was just the way of the populars; to hook up and fuck like rabbits... or at least, in their mind.

He was as tall as a five foot, five inched tree and his eyes were like two big brown circles with little, black dots in the middle; oh, wasn't he dreamy? I don't know why I picked apart Nagihiko Fujisaki as much as I did all the other populars, but something about that kid wasn't right, and I, Rima Mashiro, was determined to find out.

As I said before, those populars are pretty relevant to every-day society in Seiyo and form what we know as 'the social hierarchy of eighth grade.' They stroll around the room with their stiletto high heels on, watching as everyone is scattering away from them to let them walk through a clear hallway like pigeons retreat away when dogs chase them around the backyard.

This particular day, however, their red-carpet runaway was interrupted by the new-girl. I've already memorized her name: Hazumu Miyuki.

So, she comes walking by with her food in her hands, and Hinamori Amu is walking somewhere else. Of course, her path is clear until Hazumu accidentally runs into her, getting mashed potatoes all over her designer uniform. The look on her face drenched in gravy was indescribable, and even the stoic Rima Mashiro had a little giggle at that one.

Hazumu Miyuki was so embarrassed. She ran out of the room faster than I could actually process what happened. I don't really know what she was trying to achieve by running out like that. She was probably hoping to be gone and unnoticed like the period on a Dr. Pepper can, but unfortunately Seiyo Junior High didn't work like that. Rumors escalated around the whole cafeteria, and by the time lunch ended, everyone was aware of the new girl's stunt, even the hated ones, like me.
'Outcast,' I thought immediately, 'I finally had a friend who I could relate to.'
I couldn't pass this opportunity up...

and as low as that sounded, I just really longed for a friend in this hell-hole of a junior high.

I looked up, down, and all-around; my eyes roamed the classroom. I twiddled my thumbs a bit. I bit all my fingernails off and chattered my teeth in need of that chewing feeling. I shuffled my papers around to keep myself occupied.
"Okay class, today, we are going to take a benchmark exam," Mr. Nikaidou said. Was he trying to mock me? Was he reading into my mind and saying this to intimidate me? Does he know that I only reviewed how to solve a multi-step problem with variables on one side a whole hour more than I studied multi-step problems with variables on both sides on the equation? I couldn't take this anymore; this stress. Mom was disappointed with me last test; she had scolded me until, well, present-day. I can't believe I dared to get the 2nd extra credit point wrong. I got 104% on that test when I could have achieved 110% had I not been so lenient with my study habits, and I dare call myself an honors student.

It's happening again. Last test's failure is re-surfacing itself to haunt me over, and over, and OVER again. I'm Nagihiko Fujisaki. I'm the heir to the Fujisaki riches. How can I not be able to get 110% on a math test? I raised my hand. I couldn't take this test today. I simply wasn't prepared...

See, I have a secret to tell you all. I am paranoid. I am extremely paranoid, and I have no idea why. My mother makes me feel like good grades are not only an honor but a requirement in my household. My mother, though, goes overboard with her punishments when I receive bad grades. When I got 99% on my history test, my mom took my computer away for a whole three months. It's really ridiculous, but for some reason, I rely on them too. Intelligence is—probably—my most prominent talent, and for some reason, I have this compulsion to feed upon it like a kid Halloween night eating all of his candy. It was the only thing I truly despised about myself. I was a nerd, and nobody knew it like I did—not even Amu, Ikuto, and the others...

"Yes Nagihiko," Nikaidou said.

"C-could I take the test... tommorow."
"Why?"
"I'm not prepared." I had composed myself.
"Pretty princess not prepared?" the vile Rima Mashiro added.
"Rima, detention," Nikaidou rightfully added, "so anyways, Nagihiko, benchmarks are just to show you how much you know so far. It's just reflecting on what you learned in class. You should be prepared just by listening to my lectures in class. You're not supposed to study; no big deal: this test. Just relax and do your best."

"Do my best..." I mumbled.

30 seconds later

"D to the O to the N to the E! BOOM!" Rima Mashiro yelled. She put her feet on the desk and lounged back to the once empty desk behind her, now Miyuki's seat, "sup Miyuki. Name's Mashiro. Mashiro Rima. Get to know me."

The new girl in our class, Miyuki, looked at her with eyes that shone confusion and utter amusement. I, myself, remembered Rima as the reserved girl who everyone picked on. The 'Ice Queen.' Interesting... how she'd make a scene like this... perhaps I'm putting too much thought into this. Class clowns will be class clowns; I suppose.
"Rima. Deten-"
"Detention? Oh god, look at Nikaidou-sensei and his big, bad detention slips. Ooooooooooh." Rima said mockingly. The whole class burst out laughing.

"Rima, zero!" Nikaidou yelled. Not like it mattered anyways because our teacher revealed the scan-tron to be bubbled in such a talented way that read out the word, 'awepic.' Sometimes, that girl is just so immature.

"Continue working class..."
Lucky, this benchmark was extremely easy. I mean, who would've known, a test being so effortlessly easy. After twenty questions of easy problems (man, I'm so glad I studied those multi-step equation solutions), I turned in my assignment with a big smile cocked on my face. 'I know I'm going to get 100%!' I thought.

After the test, I cocked my book—Clockwork Angel—open to where I left off and started reading like any other normal teenager waiting for the testing period to end. I thought about the praise I would get from my mother, once she found out I got one hundred percent on this test. I thought about the excruciating dance classes after school. I thought about poor Amu; I heard what happened during lunch. She's probably livid. I thought about poor Hazumu. The world probably hates her now just because she accidentally bumped into Amu, but rumor has it Mashiro payed her to do it. Believable... I suppose.

Because of Rima's little stunt, we weren't allowed to leave the classroom—of our last class of the day, may I add—for another ten minutes after the final bell rang.

"Okay class. Would anyone like to ask any questions about the test," Nikaidou started. No response, "okay. I expect to see A's from everyone then." Perhaps he forgot one stu-,"Rima, would you like to say sorry. I understand your little outburst to a certain degree so if-"

"Oh, look class. Nikaidou speaks of wisdom that can only come from experience like dudes that go blind 'cause they looked up at solar eclipses without the boxes with the little pinholes in them and go around the country preaching about the dangers of looking at solar eclipses without the boxes with the little pinholes in them."

Agitated, Nikaidou proclaimed to the whole class, "Everyone. OUT. Except for Mashiro. And Fujisaki."
Quickly, the students rushed out of the classroom like a dog chasing after a frisbee.

"You, Mashiro. You Fujisaki. YOU shall work together. No disrupt—DON'T SAY ANYTHING RETARDED MASHIRO—no calling on me. No idiotic questions. Nothing. Rima Mashiro and Nagihiko Fujisaki are complete opposites; we can all agree on that, but two negatives make a positive, right Nagi-"
"Well, technically if you add them-"
"Shut up Nagihiko. Just SHUT UP. THAT'S THE LAST STRAW RIGHT THERE. Stop being logical. And you, Miss Ice Queen. You think you're all hot with your, fancy smart-ass word arrangements? Well, I think your vocabulary is as bad as... WHATEVER. It's SO bad I can't even describe it. Are you happy? Are you happy, you two? For making me lose all my sanity as a teacher. From now on, you two have switched personalities. Whoever fails first at being one another loses. Got that. I'll call your parents for the sudden changes. Just... Leave me alone."

For some reason, I feel as if eighth grade won't be all that glamorous...