A pair of pine wood eyes glimpsed at the designated emerald metal shelf with wistful interest. The shelf was adorned with gold and silver trophies, their use being evident as the collected dust blanketed their luster. All District Track, All state Cross Country, National Youth Soccer Team,1st place Palisades Tournament,1st place SadeBerg track meet- 400 meter run...800 meter run...2nd place 4 by 4 relay...A small smirk crossed the lips as the eyes scanned more trophies. Such an accomplished athlete in track and soccer, yet hardly noticed at school. Very odd indeed...

Just like her.

The girl tore her eyes from her one and only pride wall and proceeded to dress for another day of school at one of California's finest public schools...Paulson High, aka the rich kid's public school. Noted for its prestige, although public, it is ranked among the top schools in the state for academic performance and teacher credentials.

"And stuck up attitudes . . . " the girl thought ruefully at the thought of the school's "honorable" name. The school wasn't bad, but the students were another story.

Like any other school, Paulson Senior High School was divided into cliques. Selina didn't care to think of all the that existed; she didn't even care to note their existence. Her mind was concentrated on school and soccer, the two most prominent things in her life, after her father. Just as she didn't note their existence, they didn't note hers...only on special occasions of course: needing homework numbers, help on something, asking what's for lunch, that sort of thing.

Even though she never wanted to be a part of a certain group, she often wondered which group would suit her the most. Being an odd ethnic mutt, ½ Greek and ½ Lebanese, where could she go? Not very far...

Punk rockers? Nope. Her music tastes were a wee bit toned down. Preps? Not even in her worst nightmares. Soccer clique? Yeah!...

No. She was a bit too strange for them. This was how the process of elimination always occurred in her head, except, she was often left with no choice in the end.

Sports was her thing; soccer, her love. It was a funny thing how she got started on sports. Her parents, always believing the best for their baby, decided mutually that the only form of enjoyment in the house was to be books, newspaper, and magazines and the occasional radio...no television. So, as a child, while others were hooked on Saved by the Bell, Family Matters, and Mickey Mouse Club, she read about Ramona Quimby, The Babysitter's Club, Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler and the occasional comic strip. Selina was a quiet child, who normally kept to herself.

Her parents often worried about her, but did nothing about it, deciding only to nurture her with love. They thought their method was best until one day, a doctor told them it wouldn't be enough. So secluded was she in her own little world, that human interaction was at a low, so low that it was recommended that it would be better for her to get involved in extracurricular activities: sports, Girl Scouts, etc. How ironic it was . . . She ended up being an excellent athlete, yet she never formed good, solid bonds with her teammates. Besides being a 54 nine-year old, she was seen as weird because she had never seen The Fresh Prince of Belair, and her eating habits weren't exactly often tried: cucumbers and peanut butter, pickles with chocolate syrup, Doritos in chocolate pudding, crab salad with apple. Most people chocked it up to odd taste buds for an odd girl. She would try to have conversations, but it seemed as though no common ground could be found, except for the ground she and her teammates played on.

So Selina spent most of her life as the apple of her parents' eye, since friendships were a rarity. There was one person she confided in, Chris Secrest, who lived across the street, two houses down. Her family and his family bonded with each other almost immediately when Selina's three year married parents moved into the neighborhood. The Secrests welcomed the family with open arms and often attempted to have their baby boy interact with their new neighbor's baby girl.

Sparks flew and friendship was formed. For some reason, Chris, even at a small age, saw her as one of the most intriguing people alive, and by all rights, perhaps she was, but most people didn't stick around to find out after they saw that first dipped pickle in Hershey's syrup. His parents adored her and said she had personality. Chris was her mentor to the outside world for most of her adolescent life.

So . . . with only one true friend to her name, occupying her time became the highlight of her life. Besides going to the park and beach with Chris, Selina did everything from reading to building mini cities(promptly destroying them afterwards), making mud baths, bird houses, a tree house, pictures out of dried rose petals, mobiles, picture frames from cereal boxes, painting, writing, sports and a host of other things.

Everything turned dark when her mother died at the hands of a drunk driver. Strange...that night she was coming home to see Selina play in a soccer tournament. Little Selina closed down...

Consoling a father is a hard job for an almost ten-year-old, especially when he was a doctor. He was distraught from his wife's death, and although he cared for his daughter more than his own life, he couldn't comfort her. How could he when he couldn't comfort himself? So instead, he turned to work, his only release from the pain.

Even at ten, Selina understood why her father would work so hard and maybe even distance himself from her. She looked at her own little art masterpieces and thought of it as the same thing.

So here was little Selina Konstantinidou, 17 year old senior, misunderstood and secluded. Welcome to her life.