Disclaimer: Everything’s mine, no one else’s. And if anyone dares to steal, well . . . let’s just say there’s going to be a Crazy Stalker after you (who, by the way, is not me). For anyone who’s wondering, Lejos de Romántico is, translated, "far from romantic" in Spanish.

Chapter One: Nirupa

Why is it that whenever you’re comfortable with your lifestyle, and it’s pretty predictable, nothing new happening, life somehow finds a way to sneak up on you and change your whole life - completely?

And how come is that whenever you least expect it, life turns your whole world upside down? You’re totally unsuspecting one minute, then the next minute your whole entire life is changed. Is it for the better? Is it for the worse? You don’t know.

That’s what happened to me, on a seemingly normal day . . .

That’s when my whole world was turned upside down.

School went on, boring as usual, on that day of October. October 21st, to be exact. It was Tuesday; I remember that for a fact. Math had already come and gone (I have it third period) and already it was fifteen minutes into English. One of my best friends, Lucala Liwan (or Cala for short, but she hates it when I call her that. Hehe. I like annoying her that way.), and I had partnered up to do a worksheet on phrases together. And surprisingly, it was going rather well, considering the fact that Lucala likes to bug me about my wealth, among other things, which annoys me to no end.

"Cala," I said, exasperated, "wouldn’t that be an infinitive phrase, instead of a prepositional phase, since the sentence uses ‘to’?"

"Yes," she replied with an evil smile. "I just wanted to test your limits."

"AUGHH!!" I was about ready to tear out my hair at that point. "Cala!!"

She only laughed at me and told me to get back to work. "And step on it, or else Mrs. Waldens will have our heads, and you better not run and complain to me."

"Like I would anyway," I snapped.

"Haha. Very funny. Now step on it."

"Yes, ma’am." I mock saluted.

Cala shook her head at me. "Nirupa, what are we ever going to do with you?" she asked wryly.

I rolled my eyes at her, but knew better than to say anything. I only returned back to my worksheet, and everything else went on as usual, with a few occasional fights in between.

Oh, how stupid am I? (Wait, don’t answer that . . .) I forgot to introduce myself. And I’m the most polite girl in the twelfth grade. Hmph!

Anyway, my name is Nirupa Vasireddy. I’m a 17-year-old (soon to be 18, though) senior who lives in the boringest town alive (which happens to be Calgary, Illinois). On top of it, I also go to an idiotic high school. 98% of the school is idiotic, 2% isn’t. It’s a proven fact.

I’m also known as a loser, geek, nerd, weirdo, bookworm and an outsider at Dakota High School. And I’m damn proud of it. My friends are considered losers too. But we’re proud of it. Who would listen to the idiotic people at our school? Certainly not us. And you mustn’t, either. Or else you’d get fooled quicker than a feather gets plucked from a chicken. Nice metaphor, no?

Wait, never mind, don’t answer that.

I’m an only child, and I’m very happy that I am. My friends, especially Cala, tell me how lucky I am a thousand times (trust me, I’ve counted) each day. I certainly don’t feel lucky, but maybe that’s just me.

One thing I’ve learned however, after being close friends with Lucala Liwan for five years, is that you never, and I mean never, mess around with her. If you do, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. She’ll make your life a living hell. Lots of people have suffered under her wrath, but not I, nor Ryssi, either. Ryssi Namis is another close friend of mine, and is known as the "Child Genius" among the twelfth graders. Since she’s only 16 and practically a child prodigy with that smart brain of hers, that’s why she’s known as the "Child Genius." Even though Ryssi’s not a child and 16 is the age of an adult, not a child, people still call her that. It bothers Ryssi a lot, but she’s learned to deal with it. I’ll have to give her props for that; people, especially preps, at Dakota High School don’t like people smarter than them. Hah! As if they were even smart to begin with.

Anyway, whenever Lucala, Ryssi and I get together, you’d best watch out for yourself. We’re known as the Terrorist Trio (Cala’s joke) of Dakota High School, and we never let anything, and I mean anything, get in our way.

My thoughts were broken by Cala’s voice. "Halloo, is there anyone home in Nirupa’s empty brain?" she teased in a sarcastic tone.

I gave her a mock glare. I knew that she was just teasing me; Cala likes to vex me about my denseness. I didn’t even bother to retaliate; she always won, anyhow. "I’m here, Cala," I said tiredly, "I was just thinking."

"Poor you," she said in fake sympathy.

I only shook my head and changed the subject. "Do you have a yearbook meeting today?"

"Yep," she nodded. "Why?"

"I was just wondering," I said with a careless shrug. "Since usually you have to baby-sit Aifer on Tuesdays, so I was curious on how you worked around that." Aifer is Cala’s younger, but definitely very annoying, brother.

"Simple, o clueless one. I just go to the Wednesday meetings instead of the Tuesday ones," Cala answered. She gave me a weird look. "Did you forget or somethin’?"

"Uhh . . ." I couldn’t think, never mind find, anything to say to that.

Luckily for me, I was saved by the bell just then. "See you later Cala," I said.

"Adios, mi muy dense amiga," she answered, and laughed when I swatted her on the arm. "Shut up!" I said, agitated.

"Tsk, tsk," she said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "I would’ve thought you’d know better by now. It seems that I was wrong."

"Okay, Cala, I get the point," I said, annoyed. "I’ll talk to you later, all right?"

"All right, and by the way, Ryssi’s coming over this weekend for a sleepover. You wanna come?"

"Sure," I said, "I just have to check with the ’rents, though, especially Mom. You know how paranoid she gets whenever I’m not at home, exempting school and going over to Natalie’s house."

"Yep, I do. Ask your parents tonight and then call me, okay?" Cala asked.

"Fine. ’Till we meet again, Ankhu."

"’Till we meet again, Lupia," she echoed. "Farewell, and bon voyage."

I crossed my eyes at her, said "Gracias," and left.

Let me explain about the nicknames; I know you’re confused. Lupia is my nickname, since I’m obsessed with wolves and moons, so Lupia was evolved from that. Cala’s nickname, Ankhu, is an Egyptian name. She’s obsessed with Egyptian names, and since Ankhu is her favorite Egyptian name, Ryssi and I call her that. Ryssi’s nickname, Koro, is completely made-up. Add to the fact that she loves male sounding names (but are actually female names), and you’ve got her nickname. Together, though, we’re called the Terrorist Trio. No one else knows our nicknames, except us. We use our names discreetly. However, if one of us slips up and say our nickname (or another person’s) in front of people, we just lie and say that the students must’ve misheard or something. Our Code of Honor: Never, no matter what the circumstances, must you give out either your moniker, or another person’s in your group, in front of persons who are not in or not part of your group. If you do, you’ll be automatically kicked out of your group.

I yawned distinctively and watched the clock. There was only five more minutes left of class, and after that was Lunch. Whoo wee. How exciting. I sighed and continued watching the clock.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a door opening. My head jerked and my eyes landed on the door, which was only a few feet away from my desk. Mrs. Waldens, my A.P. English teacher, walked in and headed over to Mrs. Bilare, the Study Hall monitor. What was she doing here? Well, if she was here, chances were that her business coming here concerned either Ahed or me, since no other 12th grader was in Study Hall fifth period, let alone in A.P. English. Ahed, by the way, is a classmate of mine. He’s very annoying, and unfortunately for me, I share all of my classes with him, including English. Woe is me, I know. Luckily I have Lucala and Ryssi to help me bear through it.

"Nirupa?"

I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard - distantly, I must admit - Mrs. Bilare call my name. "Yeah?" I answered.

"Mrs. Waldens wants to talk to you outside."

"Okay." I got up from my seat, shot a glare at Ahed who was snickering at me, and followed Mrs. Waldens out of the room. I tried to ignore the countless pairs of scrutinizing eyes on my back as I left the room.

Once we were outside and at a safe distance from the classroom, Mrs. Waldens led us to an empty classroom that was at the end of the hall, only two feet away from the Study Hall room.

She stopped at the door. "Hold these for me, will you?" she said, handing me a whole stack of papers. I struggled a little bit with the weight of the paperwork, but waited patiently (which is very hard for an impatient person like me) until she unlocked the door. She then gestured for me to hand over the papers to her, which I did, and we walked in.

The room was dark, unusually dark. It wasn’t until I switched on some lights when I finally got a good look at the room. Several desks, along with a couple of chairs, were scattered about the place, and a leather chair was located in the middle of the room. From the looks of it, I guessed that it must’ve been a while, until now, that someone had been in here. The room was used for storage purposes, I knew, and was always kept under lock and key, for some reason. I decided not to delve into the strangeness of it all though. Some things are just better left to be unknown.

Mrs. Waldens placed the pile of papers on the chair, looked outside the side windows for a moment, and sighed heavily. Her voice broke the quiet stillness of the room. "I’ll be right back, Nirupa. You stay here and make sure that nothing happens to those papers." She indicated towards the stack of papers that were on the leather chair.

"Okay," I said, nodding, and she left, closing the door behind her.

I sat there for a while, basking in the stillness and the silence in the room. Rarely did I ever get a chance to have utter peace and quiet, even at home. School was a no-brainer; it was so noisy and you often felt like screaming "shut up!" to everyone. I sighed softly and let my thoughts wander. What was all this about? What had Mrs. Waldens wanted to see me about? What were the papers about? What was in the papers, come to think of it? Why all the secrecy? I hadn’t glanced at the papers when I’d held them, since first of all, they were in a folder, and if I had chosen to open it after all, the papers would’ve tumbled out. What a mess that would’ve been. Not to mention the embarrassing scene that would make.

I was startled out of my thoughts by the whoosh of the door opening. When I saw the person who had come with Mrs. Waldens, my heart dropped all the way down to my feet.