The school is a mad-zone as we enter. Students crowd the hallways and everyone seems to be in a hurry to get somewhere. There're two weirdo kids running around with a microphone and a camera. They seem to think they're interviewing people. Really?

We all slink past them, not wanting to be singled out as the newbies, and having to answer lame questions like "are you excited to be starting at McKinley?" Hell no. They seem to be more interested in the older kids anyway. Seniors maybe?

"So where are we going?" Trent asks, oblivious as always.

"Lockers douchebag" I reply fondly, he really can be clueless.

Alex is directing us, the only one of us who bothered to bring a map. Under his guidance we enter the freshman block. Unfortunately it's just as crowded as the main halls. Apparently everyone had arrived early to claim a locker.

I spot a block of four open lockers that haven't been claimed and tell the others to follow. As we're heading over I find myself being pushed out of the way by some pudgy jar-head wanting a top locker.

"You snooze, you lose!" He teases, laughing at me.

Thanks to my acrobatic reflexes I don't end up on the floor, but now I'm mad. Just because I'm small doesn't mean you can push me around. This kid needed to learn that.

"He's in for it now," I hear Heather-Leigh whisper. My temper was rather infamous.

"Hey Douchebag!" I yell at his pudgy back. None of the fondness I had previously used on Trent was present now.

He's a biggish guy, but obviously used to getting his way. I use his shock as he turns around to shove him into the lockers. At the same time I grab his hand and press down. Hard.

One of the advantages of being an acrobat – you learn all the pressure points. His eyes go wide with shock and pain.

"So, it's the first day of school" I tell him, now that I have his full attention, "Lesson number one, don't mess with me. Lesson number two, those lockers? They belong to us." I nodded to my friends behind me.

His eyes widen further, apparently he hadn't realised I wasn't alone. Not that it made much difference. Alex was too noble to put people in their place and Heather-Leigh was too sweet. But Trent? Yeah, he'd kick the guy's balls if I asked him.

"Think you got that?" I ask him. He nods furiously. "Right then," I let him go. He stumbles a bit in his haste to get away from me.

I feel a bit embarrassed as I turn to one of the now free bottom lockers and shove my bag inside. I didn't mean to be intentionally cruel to people, but I can't stand bullies. Plus, if anyone gets on the wrong side of my temper...

Alex ruffles my hair again in his affectionate way as he takes the locker above mine. Heather-Leigh gives me a hug from behind before moving to take the locker next to mine. Trent lightly punches me on the shoulder, smirking, as he takes the locker above Heather-Leigh's. I still didn't know what I'd done to deserve such amazing friends who understood me without trying.

Letting out a big sigh I shook it off. Not how I'd wanted to start my first day, but there you have it.

"Where to now?" I ask

"The Hall," Alex replies, "Principle wants to give us a welcome speech."

I scoff. I'd forgotten how much time is wasted in normal schools. EA-AS had started at 6:30am sharp every morning for fitness and strength training, followed by breakfast, then two hours of lessons, recess, another two hours of lessons, lunch, training til six or seven at night, dinner, homework time and lights out at 9pm.

Welcome speeches are, in my opinion, a colossal waste of time.

So we sit in the hall, listening to Principal Figgins talk about this and that, rules and punishments, attendance and wagging, and, and, and...

I'm almost falling asleep but Trent nudges me. "I've lost many t'ings in life," he whispers in his best Indian accent, "but I miss my mind t'e most."

I snort, making a few people glance my way. I glare back at them. As they turn away I nudge Trent back. Way to get me in trouble on my first day.

Figgins' speech takes up the first two lessons of the day. It's halfway through recess by the time we get back to our lockers. The whole time the irritating melody of chopsticks filters through the halls.

"Ok, I'm seriously going to hit something if that music doesn't stop," I tell Trent

My declaration is followed by the sound of a piano having its guts ripped out. Trent and I stare at each other.

I shrug, "Karma's a bitch."