I got over it. Him, I guess. After tantrums and bouts of sobbing to myself in the corner in my room, my innocent, pure, five-year-old mind slowly but surely let go of the idea of holding the memory of Steven Stone close to my heart, despite the fact I told him I'd keep waiting for him.

Of course, my mother was delighted to have him away from me. Why? I had no idea why. I could always see the look of repugnance directed at me when I told her I was with Steven after lessons and tutoring. She hardly comforted her sobbing, crying child when I told her my best friend and idol had left.

I assume that's how I grew up to be such an awkward and mirthless child. I never had much friends, although there were a couple here and there. But they all flitted away, like butterflies once they realized there was nothing special about the flower they had hovered on.

My mother wasn't necessarily mean. She was the all-out, serious business woman. Stark Corporations was of her creations and ideas, created from ideals that she and my father had planned out long before I was born. I suppose that made me 'rich', but I never liked that title. I didn't want to be pointed out as the wealthy kid down the block. I ached to be normal, but I couldn't. Normal kids didn't have servants flowing out from every corner of the entire house, nor did they own a home that practically screamed: "Wealthy bastards living here, we can practically buy everything you have, so don't bother us!"

The only pure escape I held was my Pokémon. The team I had built since I was practically five years old, consisting of an Espeon (Minerva), my trusty starter since she was an Eevee, Milotic (Amphritite), Flygon (Aristotle), Gallade (Kratos), and Frosslass(Khione). I had named all my Pokémon, seeing there were hardly any people named theirs, calling them by their name. If I stood out from everyone, I wanted my team to stand out with me. My team was my only escape from my control-freak mother.

Nonetheless, I was immensely grateful that I had at least my mother, after my father had passed away a month before I was born. I never knew how he looked like, due to the fact that mother had never put pictures up on the walls with him in them- only us, as if father never existed. But some people had told me that I inherited most of my features from my father, which gave me comfort that I had him in something as simple as my looks, even if that was shallow. At least I had something to hold on to.

I awoke the next morning as usual, with Minerva slapping her tail across my face in an unsightly manner, with me sputtering awake and spitting out a ball of lilac colored fur.

"I was hoping you'd stop doing that and find a new method of waking me up each morning." I grumbled, rubbing my eyes and directing a glare at the cocky Espeon.

"I could stop, but that sucks the fun out of anything." Minerva chortled, leaping off the bed gracefully.

"God damn it, Min." I sighed, shuffling out of bed and walking to the bathroom, taking care of everything there before I came back into my room and changed into a simple mint colored T-shirt, and jeans. I plodded down the stairs, sitting at the head of the dining table, with maids fussing over me. I waved them all aside, not wanting anyone at the moment. Minerva was already happily munching away at her breakfast, a content look on her face.

"Opal!" A voice roared, and I jerked out of my seat in instinct, flustered. Minerva gave a small yelp of her own and nearly choked on her breakfast. "I swear, I'll never be used to your mother's daily morning screeches..." Minerva whined, drawing a paw over her ear. I smirked down at her, and called back up to my mother. "Yes?"

"Your first day of school begins today, have you forgotten?"

School. Something I've dreaded since my first visit way back in first grade. Ceaseless bullying, taunting, insults, and personal remarks. "Go buy yourself some friends Stark, because no one else actually wants to!" "Rich kid!" "Loser!" "Loner!" "No one likes you!" I'd come home sobbing fervently, locking myself in my room for hours, wishing for someone to come and save me, to put me out of my misery.

I now stood in front of the large gates of LaRousse Academy, after my chauffeur dropped me off, tugging my uniform skirt downwards self-consciously. Why were these uniforms so short anyways? Minerva was poised next to me, swishing her duo tail back and forth. "School should be fun." She commented wryly. I grunted in response, not wanting to go just yet.

"I swear, I'm going to kill my mother..." I vowed darkly, gritting my teeth. "Deep breaths, Opal. You've got this. It's different now. You can pulverize all the people here if they bother you now, I guarantee it." Minerva crooned comfortingly. I heaved a sigh. There was really no point in complaining. I promised my mentors, Wallace and Cynthia, that I would go to school my junior year... But I regretted it now that the memories were back.

"Excuse me?" Someone put a hand on my shoulder, and I whipped around and yanked back on instinct, narrowing my eyes. The person that touched me was a girl with chocolate-brown hair tied up into a ponytail. Her azure eyes clashed with my emerald ones as she stepped back, hands up in a defensive position. "Sorry. You looked slightly lost, so I wanted to help you." She laughed nervously, and extended her hand out to me. I said nothing , shaking her hand while giving her a slightly wary look. "I'm Touko White." She smiled awkwardly, looking slightly miffed.

"Um. Can I see your schedule?"

I gave her a blank look. "What?"

She coughed. "Your schedule. You know, the one with all your classes on it...?" She prompted, looking disbelieving, as if not knowing what a schedule was ridiculous.

"I..." I was thoroughly embarrassed now, my cheeks flushed. Touko seemed to perceive that I didn't know what it was, and shrugged. "It's okay. We can go print yours out at the administrator's office. You are registered, right?" I nodded, grateful towards this stranger, and that she had asked me a question that I actually knew the answer to.

We made our way to the office, making small talk about where I was from, my team, and everything else. Touko was incredibly friendly- she had a little sister a year younger than her, and she was in the student council as the vice president, which was probably why she was so helpful.

This entire school was huge. It was immense in both factors of superiority and grandness, as the buildings looked sharp and clean, with trimmed fields and people lounging around with their Pokémon under the various trees, either studying or resting before classes. This reminded me of a prestigious college rather than a high school.

"So tell me, Opal. How did you get into LaRousse Academy?" Touko continued with her nonstop chatter, and I just managed to catch her question. I shrugged- I honestly had no clue. "I have no idea. My mom told me I was going to school today, and my chauffeur dropped me off here." Touko arched an eyebrow curiously. "Huh. Well, LaRousse Academy is a very prestigious school, so you probably got in because one," She held up a finger, scrutinizing me. "You're filthy rich. Or two," Touko held up another slender finger. "You're so deathly smart, that you got a full-ride scholarship here." She wiggled her fingers, eyeing me. "So, which one is it?"

By the time she asked me, we had already reached the administrator's office, and I scampered away to the nearest attendant before she could question me further. I had no needs of Touko prying into my private life, and no matter how friendly she was, I wasn't going to reveal anything. I didn't need a déjà vu. I'd much rather not have anyone know about who I was.

I was so caught up in my thoughts, I hadn't heard the administrator attempting to grab my attention. I apologized quickly, although the woman at the desk looked rather annoyed. She forced a smile, and took a deep breath, while Minerva snickered next to me. "How patient." Minerva drawled sarcastically, and I gave her a meaningful stare, although I cracked a smile as well. "Well, honey. Here's your schedule. Your first class is at the Battle Dome building. You're with Mr. Stone for AP Tactics."