"Mother, please don't make me go." I plead, hopelessly. "I'll switch schools . . . anything."

She ignores my beseeching, "Get in the car, Gabriella."

"No, you misunderstand, mama."

She heads out the door, accessing her indigo-blue van.

I can't help glaring at it as I follow behind her, carrying a book bag that must weigh about eighty pounds. It looks so large on my back; it is simply causing me to slump. I feel insecure already and I haven't even gotten to school yet.

The blue beast looks like rubbish out in our yard. Yet, living in a trailer park, you wouldn't find it odd—a family owning a grotesque van like this one. My mother and father know we are unfortunate but this is our best reminder.

My mother sits in the driver's seat, tapping her bright rosy-red nails on the wheel, impatiently.

I feel regret for even waking up this morning.

I approach the van, opening the passenger's seat and closing the door. It is quite bizarre for an eighteen year old to be still driven by her mother, but we can't afford another vehicle and Mother insists that she must drive it to work. It works out better.

We arrive at 7:30, only leaving about ten more minutes until class will begin.

We must keep our windows up; the heat in Albuquerque, New Mexico is unbearable.

I hear the bell ring loudly.

Mama looks to me with a rather encouraging smile, "Oh, you go get them, wildcat." She inspirits.

I grab my large bag, slinging it over my shoulder, "See you later, mama."

Senior year at East High has to be different. There has to be some kind of change, something new. It can't always be torment, it can't always be dreadful. Can it?

I hope not.

My locker hasn't changed paths at all. I find it very easy to adjust to my schedule, for I know where all my classes are.

Because of my intelligence and dedication, I have Academic Honor classes. It isn't much of a shock because I have these every year, and most of my classes are extremely peaceful - mostly because they do not have class with me. They are far too thickheaded to achieve such high-scale classes. And, they don't care about their grades.

As I turn around from closing my locker, I see them.

I take in a rather horrified breath.

Every year, they stroll, all together, as one group. They are a clique here. They all walk so confident, as if they can't find anything more to love than themselves.

It makes me feel sick to my stomach.

The leader is Sharpay Evans - a young girl with golden-blonde hair and an obnoxious laugh. Her charm makes the boys go crazy, and she never settles for anything less than what she wants. She is downright selfish, and she doesn't care for anyone except herself. She guides her demented wildcats together, commanding them on their way.

Next to her is Ryan Evans - Sharpay's homosexual brother, who not only listens to everything that Sharpay says, but obeys it on command. He is attractive, sure, with his sandy-blonde hair and sapphire eyes. However, he is only Sharpay's slave. He will fight to the end for his beloved sister.

Chad Danforth comes after Ryan. He never talks to me much, only agrees with what most of them say. He is the captain of the basketball team, and all of the girls find him irresistible. He maintains a rather unique hairstyle, defying gravity in the most absurd way. He looks rather strong in the chest and arms. His dark skin matches his eyes and his hair. He is always wearing ridiculous slogan t-shirts. He's not much of a leader - more of a follower. He goes with the flow.

Jason always seems to be adjacent to Chad. Some say that he admires Chad, that he has a man crush on him. I believe Jason just looks up to all the wildcats. He's anxious to be in the group. You can tell he feels honored to be apart of them. I don't really know Jason. I just know he is extremely egotistical because of this and very irritating. He always says irrelevant things that make Sharpay angry. He's rather harebrained. He has full cheeks - rugged stubble. His eyes are a rather boring brown, along with his hair. There is nothing really out of the ordinary about him.

Zeke goes with Jason and Chad, feeling powerful from his basketball talents. He has a secret crush on Sharpay and is always flirting with her. Of course, she never gives into his charms, and always stays away from him. He is vulgar most of the time, and again, he cannot think for himself. He is strongly dedicated to his reputation. He has dark skin, darker than Chad's. He is a rather large man - only in muscle, of course.

Of course, there are always the female cronies - Miley and Lauren; Sharpay's loyal followers. I dislike them almost as much as I dislike Sharpay.

Miley is stuck up, and has a rather bighead - this leads to a lot of fights between her and Sharpay. She always wants to be number one. Her father wrote a song that became a number one about ten years ago. She's been self-obsessed ever since. She always throws taunts at me. She owns a website that only makes fun of me - literally. She is out to do nothing but ruin my life. Than again, that's practically an understatement. She wishes I do not exist.

Lauren is Sharpay's "kiss-ass". No matter what Sharpay says, no matter how mean she is to Lauren, Lauren stands by her faithfully. It's very annoying. Lauren can never think for herself, and just like the others, Sharpay thinks for her. She is very vulnerable with that position. You see, Lauren refuses to give up this spot. In school, everyone seems to bow down to her and she knows the only reason is because of her and Sharpay's "friendship". Without Sharpay, Lauren's life is pointless, she is pointless. You can just call her Sharpay's sidekick.

They walk with a rather vain stroll - they are boasting. I'm tired of dealing with this. I'm tired of being so defenseless against them. I want to stick up for myself. It's much easier said then done. You cannot take on that many people, when all you have is your own voice. I can try all I want. . . I still have a very meek, fragile voice. Everything about me seems to be broken half the time.

"Montez." Sharpay sneers as she approaches me.

Her group stops as she does.

"I thought you were going to move." She adds with a fake sweetness.

Her eyes are mocking me - she's trying to hurt me. I'm very aware of this.

"She still hasn't learned how to put on her makeup, obviously. I mean, look at her." Lauren comments while tossing her hair.

Her eyes glare at me, reminding me of the hatred she feels for me. I try to remain secure.

Sharpay disapproves, "Did I ask for your input?"

Lauren just rolls her eyes and looks away.

"Anyways," Sharpay smirks, nastily, "Gabriella, are you ready for the worst high school year of your life?"

"I've already had that." I mutter, tastelessly.

I can't look at all of them - their glowering is far too much to handle

"Shut up . . . you worthless piece of trash." She snaps at me, venomously. "You'll just have it again now, won't you?"

"She doesn't stand a chance - she'd need plastic surgery, that nose will kill her." Miley adds in, "She'll never get a guy."

"Please, just leave me alone."

"Why? Are you gonna go cry?" Lauren acts as if this is their goal, as if that's what they are longing to make me do.

"Yeah, that's all she can do, she's not good at anything else." Sharpay grumbles.

"I have never done anything to any of you." I furrow my eyebrows, clenching my books as if they are going to save me.

"You're just pointless, that's all," Miley crosses her arms, "nobody likes you. So why do you even bother?"

It's pointless trying to make this better. This will never end. I am a very easy target and they can get to me. I let things get to me.

I live a rather colorless life. There really is no true reason for me to continue on. I don't know why I haven't jumped off a bridge yet, to be completely honest.

At one time, I was actually friends with Chad and Zeke. This may have been years ago but it seems like just yesterday. Chad and I were actually very close. We kind of liked each other. We were very young though so it wasn't something important, not something I think about much. I was so different than - so much more confident, much more charismatic. I didn't cry then. I wasn't broken. Then things happened - things I can't explain to this day - things that made them think differently of me, things I am not responsible of.

Now, I am helpless, and they find it the perfect opportunity. I am the prey - they are the predators.

They shall say more foul things - lead me into a larger hole, bury me even further into my deathbed. Life isn't fair. But it's horrifying when its people who make you realize that. Usually it's fate. I want to believe everyone is equal, we are all the same, no one is better than anyone else. But what they make me feel like . . . well, it's something close to meaningless.

I close my eyes, letting the tears fall loosely from my cheeks, careless to what they think. Their voices are so audible and nerve wracking. I cover my ears, sliding against the locker until I hit the ground, small sobs coming from my mouth occasionally. They make me feel as if I am nothing in this world, as if I might as well just bury myself alive. They make me feel inferior to them. I don't want to live anymore - it's the sudden desire to just dive into fatality - to break away from the reality of well. . Hell. They lead me to the insanity - the insanity of having no confidence within myself, for thinking so little of me, for wishing I could be someone else, have someone else's life.

My heart feels like stone - and the tears refuse to pour down any further. Eventually, emotion dries up.

And then, I open my eyes.

The halls are finally silent. They have abandoned me. Class has started. I am beyond late. And I cannot go into class looking like a wreck - bloodshot eyes and bleeding mascara.

I am very wrong. Senior year is going to be a living hell. I do not have the strength to withstand their insults, but it's something I need. Somehow, I need to muster the strength, to recuperate from the years they have taken from me.

I have to stop caring, to stop letting them get to me.

Lunch is never something I look forward to, mostly because I sit alone in the corner of the room, omitting myself from the rest of humanity. Students tend to look at me and gossip about me - amused that I am sitting alone. This is only because I have no friends. I never go out of my way to speak with people. I don't participate in social activities. I'm not outgoing. I never have been. Even when I had some gall, everybody turned against me. I'm not worthy of having friends. Or so I believe.

I look at myself in my compact mirror. I'm not that ugly, really. I don't wear pounds of makeup or put fake eyelashes on my eyes. I guess I am natural if that makes sense. I only wear a little here and there. I'm not obsessed over my looks. I'm not fashionable and that doesn't bother me. I just don't understand how they can continue deriding my looks. Surely I'm not model material like Sharpay, Miley or Lauren but I believe there are people with worse problems. I don't have skin problems or anything.

I refuse to ever judge someone based on their looks alone though.

I am searching around the cafeteria for nothing. I don't know why I try and make myself feel better about things. Even the "geeks" have friends - they sit together at a table nearby me. I watch them. They seem alienated. I suddenly feel worse. Am I really that much of an outcast, to be sitting here, repulsed by half of the student population? I'm about to hang my head and feel even more sorry for myself when I see him walk in.

He walks into the cafeteria - his stroll is rather fluent but I can see the hesitance in his steps. He seems to be looking around, as if in search for someone to talk to. I can tell he lacks the potential to do that. It's easy to tell he's not used to the school - that he's new to this environment. If I can describe him in one word, I say he's beautiful. I watch him for a second - unable to restrain my eyes. I forget about the mindless things I have been thinking about.

His hair seems to define the word perfect - it's a dark brown and manages to stay in place as he walks. His eyes seem endless in green and blue. He's very . . . tan. I imagine sun does that to him. His features are what God would grace on celebrities and models though. He seems like someone who doesn't belong in EH but more-so a modeling place. His beauty is intimidating to me - from his deep eyes to his muscular chest.

I turn away. I must. I want to forget the idea that an unthinkably good-looking young man just walked in and the entire air changed. I even feel my oxygen decrease while staring at him. It's as if the wind has been taken away from me. I've never seen something more . . . beautiful.

I look over to Sharpay, curious to whether she's rested her eyes on him yet. I don't know why I personally care. This is just stupid. I feel embarrassed that I'm even curious. And then I turn my eyes back to him. I can't help it.

My lips depart and I find myself in literal shock that he's looking directly at me. Again, I'm mesmerized by the way he's so good-looking, especially his eyes. I'm just caught scrutinizing his face, unable to turn away, though I want to.

At this second, something very strange happens. A small, yet visible smile appears across his lips. It seems like a more polite, forced smile, but it's good natured. Maybe it's the unfamiliarity of the situation - the fact that someone is acknowledging me and not assuming I'm an alien. I don't smile back, but I can see him and I realize that he's walking towards me.

Why? I panic. My heart starts to race and I furiously attempt to regain my sanity. I almost wish he wouldn't. I begin to pray he just decides against it and walks away. I can't talk - I'm horrible at talking.

He's not even in my league; he's out of this world attractive, someone Sharpay would undeniably welcome into her group, and someone anyone would welcome into their group. But still, he continues walking . . . to come and talk to me - the school's biggest loser.