A few days later, I was still thrust into herd known as the 'popular crowd'. I had met the day with a brand new determination. I was determined to see just how far this would take me.

I sat at the back of my first period class, American History 2, with Tala chatting away beside me. Asher, the rude boy from yesterday, somehow ended up next to me. As the teacher droned on and on, Tala and Cara couldn't stop snickering and whispering.

We were supposed to be taking notes, but half of the class obviously didn't care. A few notes were passed between three girls ahead of me and some boys to the right couldn't stop texting. Well, that is until the teacher walked right up to them and plucked the phones out of their grasps.

Mr. Gonzales didn't seem like that strict of a teacher. He was middle aged with some hair still clinging to his head. Yet, even as a new student, I could tell he had a line to draw.

I glanced down at my notebook. My messy scrawl littered the page in the purple ink Tala had lent to me. It was so difficult to pay attention with the snickers and whispers around me.

I caught Vienna's cause across the room and she silently laughed. I rolled my eyes as she turned back towards the teacher. We had been on good terms since she came home, found the note, and we hugged it out. She promised to try and be a better sister and so did I.

You could tell she didn't care about taking notes by the way she leaned back in her chair. Her arms were folded across her chest and she even had her legs on the desk. Mr. Gonzales, who heavily relied on his PowerPoints, still hadn't noticed. She had this whole 'badass chic' thing going on. But I could see past it.

I turned to Asher and had this burst of determination. He wasn't the only person who had chewed me out. However, if I was going to get everyone to like me, I had to start somewhere. Besides, he seemed nice to everyone else. Maybe he just needed to warm up to me.

"Hey, Asher," I whispered.

No response.

I repeated the sentence louder with still no response. Okay, now I was sure he was ignoring me. So, I lightly tapped his arm.

"Yes?" His expression didn't seem very friendly.

"Um..." I trailed off. I hadn't really planned what I was going to say. "I just want to know what you have against me." Sometimes honest questions are the best way to go.

He seemed to ponder this for a second.

"I mean, I didn't mean to do anything to upset you. I'm just here to make friends." The old Adalaide threatened to come out and tell how how annoyed and upset I really felt. Or how clueless. But the new Ada was nicer and chirpier.

He let out a deep breath, eyes scanning the people around him. All of his friends were caught up in conversations anyways. "Well, to be completely honest, I like my friend group the way it is."

I nearly roll my eyes. What a stereotypical popular. "Oh."

His eyes seem to hold something else, something he hadn't yet spoken. "I have reasons. It's not that you're not nice or anything. It's just anytime someone joins the group, they want something."

My eyebrows shoot up. This wasn't what I was expecting.

"They just want popularity. That's it. They don't actually want to be my friend. Or they want something more with one of us. Like, a sexual relationship. The people that have built their way up, these people I've been with for who knows how long, save a few, are people I know I can trust."

Something twists in the pit of my stomach. As much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, all I wanted was to become popular, to make a name for myself. Here I was blaming Asher for judging me for exactly what I was.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about your last experiences and how you feel. I promise you I'm not here for some 'beneficial' relationship." I scrunched my nose. "I'll leave you be."

The unspoken words were the hardest to drown out of my mind. I couldn't believe I saw these people more as pawns than actual, well, people. However, I still couldn't drop my front. I couldn't and wouldn't revert back to who I used to be.

You know why? I used to be a total nobody. Just Amelia and a scattering of a few conversed with me on a daily basis. Because after I stopped getting drunk off my rocker, I was nothing and no one in the eyes of my peers.

I sniffed, averting my gaze to my notebook. Tightly, I clutched the pen in my grasp, copying the notes projected on the board. It had almost been two years, I needed to get over it. I was a different person now.

The bell rang, and everyone hightailed it out of there. I followed, or more like trudged behind the rest. However, before I could sink deeper into my thoughts, Tala hooked her arm through mine and started chatting away.

Seriously, being so animated all the time had to take its toll. Who could be so friendly to everyone, even a stranger?

"So, whatcha think of the school so far?" Tala queried. "Isn't everyone just so wonderful?"

Was she on some sort of drugs?

"Um, it's different than my old one, that's for sure." It really was.

She nodded, a giddy smile lighting up her face. "Oh, I hope you mean that in a good way."

"I do." Well, at least, I thought I did.

Cara bounded over to her best friend, hooking her arm through Tala's free one and ripping her away from me. "Come on, Tal! Don't want to be late!" I didn't miss the glare she was sending me.

I also didn't miss J, one of the two boys I had been introduced to, with a girl glued to his side. She looked oddly familiar. I was sure she was part of the group but she was someone I hadn't been introduced to.

By the look of disdain on Asher's face, I could see why he said he had trusted these people 'save a few'. Not to be rude, but by the way she swung her hips and flipped her hair, I was pretty sure of her true motives.

Even though Tala and I didn't have all the same classes, she has made sure I knew where each of mine was. I had Spanish next, which I wasn't very good at. The only thing that helped me out was my slight knowledge of Italian.

I tapped Asher on the shoulder. We were about to enter the foreign language part of the school, as we both had Spanish together. It was hid behind the flight of stairs and tucked into a corner of a scarce few classrooms.

As he turned to look at me with an annoyed look, I figured I would make sure my assumptions were true. "That girl with J, she's one of those you're afraid of infiltrating your group, isn't she?"

He sighed. "Persistent, are we?"

I shrugged. "I just want to know."

After battling within himself for a few moments, he nodded. "Yeah. J's on the track team. He's also someone who a lot of girls seem to flock to. He claims that this one's a real keeper, and that she should hang out with us."

I could see with my heart what made him feel the way he did. Something in me really wanted to befriend him. Although, I wasn't sure if it was for selfish, popularity gaining motives or honest ones.

We walked into Spanish and took our respective seats on the opposite sides of the room from each other. Actually, any populars in this class sat as far away from me as possible. That caused my heart to sink a little, but it also served as motivation.

The teacher walked up to the front of the class and began speaking Spanish.

"Buenas Días!"

That's probably the only part I got before I drifted into my own thoughts.

I also noticed Chris sat right next to me. He had been rather friendly to me in this class. Or, well, in general. We only had this class together as he was a year older than me but failed Spanish 3 the year prior.

"Psssstttt, Addaaaa."

I glanced over at him to see a doodle on his notebook. Again. We were, again, taking notes. Although, instead of learning about history, we were learning about the perfect tense in Spanish- or something like that. I'm not saying I couldn't pass the class, I'm saying I couldn't actually speak the language.

Anyways, back to his drawing. It was a picture of our teacher, Señor- I forgot, with devil horns sprouting from his head. It was a well known fact that Chris hated that class, and the teacher. Everyone could see it from the daily arguments between the two.

I couldn't help but snicker at the drawing. It was actually quite good. The teacher even had a tail and a pitch fork. To top it all off, flames erupted in the background. A sign above his head read, "Welcome to Hell," only, 'hell' was crossed out, and beside it it read, "Spanish 3."

I had to slap a hand over my mouth to contain my laughter. One look at the pride written across Chris's face and I lost it.

"Miss Bianchi, would you like to share what's so funny with the rest of the class?" In case you were wondering, I took the last name of my dad, as in the man that raised me.

Swiftly, I shook my head back and forth. There was no way in hell, or Spanish 3- I lost it all over again at my own horrible joke.

Through my tears of laughter, I saw the doodle being snatched out of Chris's hand. I also could have sworn the teacher uttered a few nasty words in Spanish under his breath at the sight of himself in devil form.

Chris had been cracking up as well, but we both sobered up as soon as the paper was in the hands of our teacher.

He shook his head and asked in his thick accent, "Who drew this?"

No one pointed fingers. At least, between Chris and me. That little brat J was dating pointed at me along with J himself. What a petty hypocrite. At least I'm not popular just because I want sex you little twat.

Chris shook his head. "It was me."

The teacher nodded. "That makes sense. Detention. Then, he turned to me. "Next time, please refrain from laughing at his immaturity."

"So... no detention?"

He shook his head. "Not this time." His eyes burned with anger as he turned towards Chris. Then, to the shock of the class, he ripped the paper clean in two. With that, class resumed.

It took all I had in me not to burst out laughing again.