A surge of anomalous chatter nearly deafened me as I strode into home room, chin tilted high, caution lacing my every step, as if I were sneaking through a field of killer lions instead of high school seniors. As I sat down in the only available seat over by the window in the back of the classroom, I pretended to be oblivious to the stares my fellow peers were giving me. At least some attempted to be discreet about it - sneaking a peek over the top of their textbooks; while others had no such courtesy as they pinpointed me with blazing steel glares, gawking.

Slumping down far in the plastic chair, I noticed the same girl staring at me since I had first walked in. She was short with a curvy figure, complete with full hips; her back-end was almost ripping out of her flared designer jeans. Her skin was a rich copper tan, the types you only saw on the front of Rolling Stone magazines. I'll admit, I was a little jealous. She had plump, crimson lips, moist and satiny, brown eyes dancing with a reckless fire, and a wild, unruly mane of cinnamon-colored curls, popping out of her skull like metal cork springs.

Behind her, flanking her in almost a uniform position, were two other teen girls. On the right was a familiar face. Stephanie eagerly bounced as she waved at me ecstatically. The other girl stationary on the left didn't fit in with the group at all. In fact, she looked like the type of girl you would find sniffling behind the school dumpster while she vegged out all her teeming feelings about the cruelty and prejudice of high school into a diary. She was short and could easily pass as a 6th grader. She was also covered with freckles from head to toe and had carrot-colored hair resting in a frizzy mop atop her head. Behind neon green wide-framed glasses, her enlarged green eyes analyzed me skeptically as slender fingers tugged at a hem in her plaid skirt. But before I got time to conduct a full analysis on this peculiar duo, they descended on me.

"So, I heard we had a new student," purred the dark-haired girl, her voice thick with some type of foreign accent.

Unable to formulate any words at their abrupt arrival, I could only sit there stone-faced like a total idiot. But this must of amused the dark-haired girl because she released a laugh, her voice ringing like the delicate tinkling of a bell. "I'm Maria Caligari." She stuck out one of her manicured hands in invitation.

Finally able to force out some sort of intelligible English, I quickly stuttered, "Emily Lorang."

Maria casted me with a gleaming white smile. "It's nice to meet you, Emily," she replied. The tone of her voice caught me off guard... her in general totally appalled me. Unlike the catty snobs back at my old school, everything about her was genuine. Did I hit my head? I must be hallucinating.

But before I could go farther into my internal debate if I was having a concussion, Maria continued, "This is Fan." She motioned to the short carrot-haired girl, who simply continued to stare back at me, her apathetic expression almost wary. "She doesn't talk much," Maria added.

Ready to combust, Stephanie charged forward and enveloped me in a vise-tight hug. "Hi, Emily! You remember me, right?"

Gasping for breath, and certain my lungs were about to explode, I choked out, "How could I forget you Stephanie?"

Stephanie pulled me back at arm-length and looked me straight in the eyes, her expression one of complete embarrassment. "I'm so sorry I lost you in all the madness of the hallway! Sometimes I just get so carried away with talking..."

I couldn't resist the grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. Already I knew it was impossible to ever hate a girl like Stephanie. In many strange ways she reminded me of having a pet dog, a faithful companion that you could never stay mad at, even when they destroyed you're best pair of shoes. "It's okay," I reassured her, putting a small, tentative smile on display.

"You two are so sweet," Maria purred. "Hey, why don't we continue this party at lunch? Emily, there's an empty seat at our table."

It took nearly a full minute before my mind registered the words. An actual living, breathing teenager wanted to eat lunch... with me?

"Uh, sure, why not..." I replied uneasily.

Stephanie bounced me up and down and squealed, "Great! See you there!" before bounding away with the other girls to their seats. As class began, for the first time in about two months I felt an unexpected twinge of hope. Maybe Treegap wouldn't be so bad. After all, I hadn't even been in school for a day and I already had two friendships in the making. Well, at least it's a start.

Lunch came sooner than expected.

In fact, the morning had been so hectic that as soon as I had went through the lunch line, I would have altogether forgotten my lunch plans, if it had not been for Stephanie who swooped in like a hawk and dragged me by the arm, her razor-sharp hot pink nails digging into the flesh of my forearm.

Her iron grip did not loosen until she had parked me down in a seat at a round table outside under an open-air pavilion. Although New York had many admirable charms, outdoor dining was not one of them. The air outdoors was mild and dry, with the sun shining brightly in the azure sky above. In the middle of the dining pavilion, a fountain gurgled crystal clear water in a placid rhythm. The air also held a sweet fragrance of mingling freesia and roses, much more inviting to my nose than the irritating stench of pollution.

Almost as if she could read my mind, Maria queried, "So what was New York like?"

"Way different from this," I responded. "The schools were always overcrowded and most students shared a locker. Also, there aren't many houses as big as these. Most people live in small apartments or flats. My mom and I used to be tenants of this really old building. The manager was this old bald dude named Mr. Jensen who always smelled like cigarettes and stale beer."

Stephanie's eyes widened as she took a large bite from an apple. "Was it all like that?"

I shook my head. "No, most everything is amazing. I mean, was for a city girl like me. Everyday I loved riding the Segway, and visiting the Empire State Building was always cool. I must have been at least one-hundred times. It was always fun, especially when I used to ride the elevator for two hours. Have any of you guys ever been?"

Stephenie looked wistful, almost as if she were experiencing my own desires."No. Too much pollution. It gives my mom headaches."

"I know who has. Jesse Tuck."

I nearly jumped in surprise as Fan spoke. I had forgotten she was even there.

I turned to face her wide gaze, her lips slowly moving as she finished mumbling the words.

A vague image flashed before my lids from this morning. "Jesse Tuck? The guy with the motorcycle?"

Fan nodded and continued in a hushed whisper, "He's been all over the world. Even been to the Eiffel Tower eleven times."

"Eleven? Wait, you're talking about the Eiffel Tower? Not just the miniature one in Vegas?"

"She's right," Stephanie agreed, pinching the edges of her styrofoam lunch tray. "He used to be quite the explorer."

Dubiously, I examined each of their grim faces, taut with sympathy. "What do you mean by used to be?What happened?"

Maria hastily looked around to see if anyone was listening in. "A girl named Winnie."

"Winnie?" I asked, utterly lost. "Does she attend this school?"

Fan shook her head. "No."

"Than who is she?"

"No one knows," Stephanie admitted. "But Jesse has her name tattooed on the inside of his wrist, and he has said no to every girl who's given him a shot." Her tone became bitter at the last part.

"I guess I feel kind of bad for him," I announced loudly, arranging my lunch debris on top of my tray. "Obviously, he had some strong feelings for this girl." Collecting up my tray, I began to turn around, oblivious to the warning gestures of Stephanie, Maria and Fan. "He must have never have gotten over this Winnie chick if he dumped his dreams like that..."

And I sent the remnants of my tuna casserole splattering down the front of Jesse Tuck's shirt.