I stepped through the door. It smelled like pencils. Old teachers. Cafeteria food. I smiled. The same old school.

I stepped into the school with more pride. I was happy to be back. I was glad that I was in 8th grade, not a little 7th grader, or a newbie 6th grader. That was all in the past, even though it was a good past.

A past of boyfriends, good grades, looking great, and popularity.

Now that I was an 8th grader, I was ready for a year of even more fun, and boy was this year going to be fun.

I was the top in the school, was an alpha, and was going to prove it. I wasn’t going to let any thing get in my way.

Watch me.