Today started like any other day. I woke up, ready for the first crappy day at school, wishing it was still summer, so I can sleep in till 10:00 in the morning. I saw my room, light blue with a french white desk with a computer, a french white dresser with my hair supplies and my printer, a white bookshelf with the thickest books you can imagine and a small alam clock. I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

I'm Stephine Lewis. I'm thirteen years old in eighth grade. I have light brown hair with dark brown streaks. I have circular face with sierra brown eyes. I have a small nose and full lips. I have a model's body: skinny arms, skinny legs, small waist and tall torso. I had a small chest, though I don't mind.

After I did my hair in an elaborate bun, I put on a pink Aeropostle shirt with my favorite Aeropostle jeans. If you could afford the basics, you were fine in my school, though most of our school dosen't. If you could find the designer clothes, you were worshipped. I wish I had at least one pair of designer jeans.

I went to the bus stop, where four other kids were waiting. My house was only fifteen minutes away, but my mother wanted me to take the bus where thirty smelly kids going though puberty can sit together in one enclosed space. When the bus came, I ran in, trying to get my spot in the back with my friends. I saw a boy that I've never seen before. That was usual though. I never paid attention to anybody, but he was a different story.

He was dressed weirdly. He had black flyaway hair, circular black eyes, a pale complexion, and a elongated body. He just wore a genetic black shirt and black pants with boots. The thing that caught me was he was happy. I never saw anyone who was happy and wearing generic clothes at the same time. Unfortunately, my friend, Claudia, saw me staring at him.

"Hey, Steph. Thinking of dating downward?" she asked.

"Do you know him?" I asked.

"No and I don't care," Claudia said.

We got off at Lawerance Junior High, the oldest, most boring school ever built. We had to go down to assembly to hear the principal ramble on for 15 minutes about stuff I didn't want to hear. After assembly, I went to math for the first period. I bumped into that strange kid.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Steph. And yours?" I said.

"Justin," he said. "I know something about you by just the way you're looking at me. You like me."

"What?" I said, taken aback.

It was time to get to my class before I was marked late, but he left me wondering, "How does he know that?"

(To be continued...)