1I do not own Code Lyoko. Now you can't sue me. sticks out tongue

Redid the formatting. More fun to read. Hooray!

I stood at the gates. The annoying and false cheery Social Services woman yakking away about how nice the school was and how nice the people who had taken me in before gave them the money to send me here. Okay, so they kicked me out of the house. But I was glad anyway. That little monster was a nightmare. I was so relieved to be back in the S.S.'s care than the Hillmans. Their little son, Mathias, the funniest name I had ever heard of, was always making me do stuff for him. If I didn't, he would tell his parents that I was the worst foster sister he ever had. Even though I was the ONLY one he ever had. But when he pushed me down the stairs, it was the last straw. I would've beaten little Matthias into a bloody pulp, except he was so darn cute that I couldn't bring myself to do it. So I screamed every cuss word I had ever accumulated at the top of my lungs. Needless to say, it took a lot of explaining to Mathias before he stopped saying those words. The Hillman parents took me back to S.S. with the Kadic brochure and the money to send me to that school until I graduated. The Hillman parents were nice people, just not their little son. So here I was, standing in front of the massive Kadic gates. I wasn't a very social person, I never took the time to make friends because I had always been kicked out of foster home to foster home in all but a month or so after I arrived. But this was my chance. I could make friends. A new beginning. The school was my music score, ready for me to play my song to the world. That was another thing the Hillman parents had done for me. They had given me my own electric guitar, a see through blue one at that. I knew it was expensive, and thanked the Hillman parents for it very graciously. They knew their son was a little devil, and wanted to make it up to me, but I just couldn't live with them because Mathias couldn't live with me. AND they got me a new wardrobe. A nice one at that. They let me pick out whatever I wanted, and bought it for me. The S.S. gave me all my toiletries. Deodorant, toothbrush, necessary items. And they functioned well... you could say.

The woman looked down at me. "You'll have so much fun here, California, dear," said the woman.

Yep, that's my name. California. Why? Because my mother was an idiot and she was fourteen when she had me, then dumped me into the adoption agency before disappearing off to wherever she went. And she loved California. So she named me that, but she was gonna use Cali as a nickname when she realized how stupid of a name it was.

How do I know this? I guessed for most of it. Except the fourteen part. She really did have me at fourteen. But I call my mother an idiot because she just had me, and then dumped me into an adoption agency. I don't even know if she was gonna call me Cali for short. That was my decision. Because, would you want to be called California?

"Cali," I mumbled. We walked into the gates.

"You'll make so many friends, California. Oh, the Hillmans were so nice to pay for you to come here. They have superb teachers and hard-working students. Oh, you'll fit right in," said the woman. I knew she thought what all adults thought when they looked at me. Some homeless punk who thinks they can make it on their own. But her voice was covered in false bright and cheery tones because that was her job.

I eyed my guitar case, they are pretty nice.

"Well, California, we just need to get some forms signed and then find your room," the woman said with the same false tone. So we headed into the principal's office.

"Seems like we are able to welcome you here, California," said the principal.

"It's Cali," I said.

"Oh, all right, I'll call you Cali. And I'm Jean-Pierre Delmas, the headmaster here at Kadic. But you can call me Principal Delmas." He handed me a slip of paper with my room number and class schedule on it. "I know you should be in sixth grade, but your grades are superb. You would have a better challenge in the seventh grade." I took the slip of paper.

"Thanks."

He was right though, I was very smart. I should be in the sixth grade since I'm twelve, but I picked up a lot of intelligence along my life. I've only gone to school from fourth to sixth grade, but I aced everything they gave me and they let me stay in the grade I was in. Not the best education in the world, but I was undoubtedly smart. I got most of my education from reading.

The S.S. woman and I walked out of the principal's office. We stopped a little ways away from it. "Well, I'm sorry I have to leave, California, but I have another appointment I must get to. Maybe you'll find a friend to help you find your way around school. Goodbye, California!" The false tone in her voice was definitely getting me annoyed. I didn't bother correcting my name. I was never going to see her again anyways.

"Maybe you'll find a friend to help you around school my butt," I said aloud. I didn't have much trouble finding my room. I didn't need anyone to help me find my way around. There was a thing called a map and I knew how to use one quite well. I dropped my two suitcases and guitar case onto my bad and sat down. Comfier than the cot at Gary's house. He only took me in so I could clean the house for him. Lazy and humongous fellow. He abused me; the S.S. came and let me sue the guy. I didn't go to school that year. But I did win the case and got 5,000 dollars, which the next foster family greedily took, saying they'd need it to raise me. At least I went to school there, but they treated me like crap, and sent me off to the S.S. when their little illegal company went bankrupt and they fled to Canada to escape the cops.

I took a look at the slip of paper in my hands. "Mz. Hertz, science, building eight, room four," I read aloud. I remember passing by that building on my way to my room. I took a look at the mirror before I headed off. Staring back at me were icy blue eyes, shoulder length blond hair with bold blue streaks in them, a white tank-top with a blue over shirt, a khaki mini-skirt, and blue tennis shoes. I fixed my hair up into a bun before exiting the room.

"Well class, we have a new student, today," said the woman who was undoubtedly Mz. Hertz. All the students who looked up kept their eyes on me. I guess they didn't get very many new students in the middle of the school year. My eyes wandered around the room. They caught on a wildly dressed boy in purple, with one spike of blond with a patch of purple. A boy in green sat next to him with his hands behind his head, laughing. And a blond boy with glasses, blue turtleneck and khaki capris sat in front of them, typing away on a laptop. He didn't even look up. "Her name is California ." people snickered. "California Hester," I had kept the last name of my other's all through my life.

"It's Cali," I instinctively said. I finally saw the boy with the laptop. His head had snapped up when he had heard my last name. Behind his glasses, I saw his eyes. Icy-blue, just like mine. And then I realized something, I was staring into the male version, of... Me!