I officially did not like the rain.

The thing about South Carolina weather; it's either incredibly stormy, or absolutely perfect. One day, there could be huge storms by the beach, with the waves crashing onto the dunes. The next day, a nice sunny outing where everyone could be outside playing was possible.

Today was one of those horrible thunderstorm days.

Here I was, riding my maroon bicycle to school, and the was pouring down. I wish that I had brought my rain jacket, but I had no clue that it was going to pour. It had started all of a sudden on my journey to school.

My umber hair was plastered to my t-shirt, which was in turn clung to my skin. I really hate storms.

Sure, some people might say that it looks beautiful when it rains, but I prefer the sunny days. So what rainy days look pretty? You can't go outside in them without becoming a human raindrop.

Finally, I saw my school on the horizon. I sigh in relief. Thank goodness. I didn't know how much longer I could go on without screaming in frustration.

I wheel my bike through the gate, park it under a tree, and hurry inside, clutching my battered backpack to my chest.

As I head to my locker, John Mackintosh, a buff jock and a daily bully, walked up behind me.

"Hey nerd! Were you born on a highway?"

I turn around and look up, confused and slightly scared. Who knows what torture John would have planned for me today?

"Um... No." I reply uncertainly, dearly hoping that it's the right answer.

"Well, I'm surprised. They say that that's where most accidents happen, so I just expected you to come from there too."

I turn away as my eyes well up with tears. Despite the petty insults, John really got to me. I just hated it that anyone would make fun of anyone. It only made it worse that I was the one that he was bullying.

I know what most of you are thinking right now; Why is she practically crying because of those lame insults? Well, I was always a bit of a crybaby. Any mean thing anyone would say set the waterworks off.

Thankfully, John was in a good mood today, because, one, he didn't curse once. That's something he only will do if it's a good day.

Two, he left me alone after that. He usually would jab at me for a couple more minutes, at every chance that he got.

I sighed and moved on, finally getting to my locker.

Usually, I would meet my best friend, Amelia Tawny, by her locker, but she had been sick for the past three days. I had no one to hang out with now, because by best friend I mean only friend.

I shoved my soggy backpack in and grabbed my history books. I hated history.

Yes, surprise surprise. A nerd hating class. Well, let me tell you, if you had class with Mr. Hoover, you would hate it too.

Mr. Hover is a short, pudgy man in his late 50's. He believes in detention for practically anything anyone does, good or bad. He's horrible, and not even that smart. I don't see why Rosemary High hired him in the first place.

I walked down the hallway with my head down, ignoring the spitballs thrown at me and the insults flying around.

This was going to be one very long first day of school.