"My name is Drew Gedaway. I'm a seventeen-year-old Canadian, and I want to be the captain of the soccer team."

That just about sums her up.

Okay, let's rewind.

Drew walked into Homeroom, and the first thing she did was run her narrowed brown eyes over the large variety of students.

It always a major struggle.

Yes, finding cool people was actually that hard.

She eventually sat down next to a cute girl with black bangs and a gentle smile.

The teacher did some talking, passed out their schedules and a map of the school, then told everyone to introduce themselves to the person next to them and vice versa.

Drew went first, "My name is Drew Gedaway. I'm a seventeen-year-old Canadian, and I want to be the captain of the soccer team."

The girl looked surprised, "Wow! That's a really good introduction."

Drew rolled her eyes, immediately seeing that the girl she wasn't her type. She learned that her name was Cocoa Kiyomi.

Drew asked her some questions, and it turns out her first name was actually Meiji, like the Japanese food company that sold chocolate and other dairy products. Cocoa lived true to her name, because she was sweeter than a bucketful of sugar and more innocent than a baby koala bear.

It was very much possible that the girl would get seriously corrupted if Drew said the wrong thing, so their whole conversation made Drew feel like she was wearing surgical gloves.

Yuck.

But she was useful, since she wasn't a new student. Drew asked her the name of everyone in the room, and by the end of class Drew could recognize a solid amount of people.

Drew's next class, Pre-Calculus, came as a relief. Apparently every eleventh grader had math for first period, but it was split between three different teachers as well as Algebra II and Pre-Calc. She found that extremely weird, but apparently some teachers taught multiple grade levels instead of many classes of the same grade.

Drew tapped her fingers on her desk, which was directly in the middle of the room. In front of her sat some blonde girl who was reading a book, and around her were three guys: a smirking redhead, a boy Drew had ridden the bus with, and a brunet who looked too happy to be in school.

Two girls at the corner were passing notes, and the clock was ticking unrealistically slow.

Mr. Blakely was an old teacher, and he had everyone raise their hand and say something when he called their name for attendance.

The happy boy on her right—Dennis Lo, apparently—flung his hand up and said something in Mandarin, making the guy on her other side—Cyrus Lin—choke and drop his pencil on the floor.

The teacher ignored Dennis, but Drew whispered to him, "What'd you say?"

He shrugged, "Matter no. It nothing."

Drew wasn't sure whether the weird speech impediment was a joke or not, but she went back to trying to learn everyone's names.

What Mr. Blakely told them to do was next was to go over the syllabus and class rules by themselves, in pairs, and come up with various scenarios that would be breaking any rules.

What a stupid activity.

Drew tapped the girl in front of her (she'd forgotten her name) on the shoulder. "Hey, wanna be my partner?"

She turned around, looking so bored that the only thing missing from her was some bubble gum. "Alright."

The girl turned her chair around, holding her copy of the syllabus in her hand. "I'm Evelyn Atoms."

Drew nodded, filing that away. "I'm Drew Gedaway."

The blonde narrowed her eyes slightly, pursing her lips, "Gedaway?"

Drew, fully expecting this, blew air out of her mouth in exasperation. What she said next was probably more venemous than necessary. "Okay, it's a weird name, I know. Nothing like your name Adams. I was descended from bandits, alright?"

Evelyn peered at her expressionlessly, "My name's Atoms. A-T-O-M-S."

She snorted, "Then you have no right to judge my name, Miss Chemistry."

Miss Chemistry looked at her in a way that was probably meant to convey disgust. "Well, let's get on with what we have to do."

They quietly read over the syllabus and rules for a few minutes.

"If I come into class late," Drew began, "I will be marked tardy."

"Only if you don't have a real excuse," Evelyn corrected in monotone.

"Okay fine. I come into class late, and my excuse is imaginary."

Evelyn looked thoughtful, as if wondering if that statement made logical sense. "Like?"

"Let's say a sudden murderous rage made me pay a visit to my loud neighbor this morning. I was late to school because I was having so much fun digging his grave that time just flew by."

Evelyn cracked a smile, "Now you're tardy, and in jail."

Mr. Blakely clapped his hands, "Some of you aren't talking. So get together with another group. Stop complaining, I know this is a pain in the head, but just wait until you start learning about matrices and trigonometry."

Two boys near the girls scooted over.

"Hey," an Asian said pleasantly. "What is up Gedaway."

"You remember my name," Drew noticed. "I don't remember yours."

"Dennis," he reminded her. "By the way, when attendance, I said 'You have white hair'. "

Drew wrinkled her nose, "Is that supposed to be like, funny?"

"It is, if you think about it," the other guy said. Drew thought his name was either Jordan or Jerk. "Mr. B's just taking attendance, he calls a name, and someone raises their hand and announces to the class that he has white hair." He shrugged, "Maybe you just don't have a sense of humor."

Drew glared at him.

"Back to assignment!" Dennis slapped at his handout.

"You know what?" the teacher said suddenly. "Forget it, I don't know what I was thinking when I gave you this. I've had no coffee this morning, and it's your own fault if you don't read the rules or the syllabus. I'll be putting some questions on the board for you to discuss, and if you don't know how to solve them, go home and review your crap, because otherwise you're gonna have a bad time."

Questions popped up on the screen, and Evelyn did a short scan before turning back around, "Easy."

"I think I know them," Drew said shrugging. "Just use SOH-CAH-TOA for the first triangle one. Sine, cosine, and tangent...blegh."

"And CHO-SHA-CAO for next," Dennis nodded.

Drew frowned at him, "What?"

"You know? CHO like Cosecant, Hypotenuse, Opposite? Like yours."

Jordan/Jerk stared at them both uncomprehendingly, "The way I remembered it was 'Some Old Hippie Caught Another Hippie Tripping On Acid'."

"What about the inverses?" Evelyn asked idly.

He thought for a second, "Caught Hippie Old...Some Hippie...Another...Tripping Acid On."

Drew facepalmed, "Can you not?"

Jordan/Jerk combed his red hair back and laughed, "Can I not what?"

"Talk."

He made a face, "You despise me that much already?"

"Hey hey number three," Dennis said, distracting them by pointing rapidly at the board.

"Multiplying numbers with radicals as the exponents," Jordan/Jerk yawned. "To be honest, I don't remember how to do this."

Evelyn stared at him, perhaps in disbelief. "Make the bases the same, then add the exponents."

"Yeahh Jordan," Dennis nudged him.

Oh, so Jordan is his name.

Jordan pointed at himself, "Yo, only special guys can touch this."

Dennis tried to look offended, "What, I not special?"

"From what I've seen of you, no."

"You're new," Dennis insisted. "That is why."

The two continued to bicker at each other.

"Immature," Evelyn scorned.

Drew agreed. "You're cool, be my friend."

Evelyn shrugged, "Alright."

Third period was Information Technology—abbreviated to IT so that it could simply be referred to as it—had no interesting people.

Logan was one of the few she recognized. He was regrettably someone she had to sit next to.

"Hello again," he greeted her. She'd bumped into him in the hallway after first period, and he apparently remember it very clearly.

"Hello," she did a swatting gesture that was her idea of a wave.

"You crashed into me," he reminded her. "I don't think I caught your name. Or an apology."

"Drew Gedaway," she said, "and I'm pretty sure your face caught some apology."

"Wow," he told her. "That's rude. I'm Logan West-Rodriguez."

"Ooh I care so much," she bit out sarcastically.

They had their laptops out, and he noticed her desktop background of the BC Place Stadium. He stared at it for a moment before saying, "Is that the soccer stadium in Canada?"

"Mm hm."

"You're Canadian?"

"Yes," she said testily.

He stared at her for a while, as if trying to comprehend something on her face. "You like soccer?"

"I love soccer."

He snorted, "Aren't you Canadian?"

She closed her computer and brained him with it.

"Jesus Christ!" he yelped, clutching his head. "Are you insane?"

Drew glared at him, "I'm insanely angry at you, so watch it."

Logan muttered something about how the stereotype that Canadians were nice was very wrong eh.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Did you just—"

"Eh?" he asked.

"I'm going to murder you," she hissed quietly, for the teacher had begun the class.

He made a weighing gesture with his hands, "Ehh, I dunno."

"You're Latino, aren't you? Where's your fucking sombrero?"

He shut up.