By:Melanippe

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"How does it feel to be owned, sucka?!"

"Shut the hell up Fraurer!"

"Aww! Are you sad now that you have been bitch-slapped? Are ya?"

"You fuc--"

"Guys!" I cried, doing my best to keep the grin off my face. This was too serious a situation to laugh right now. After last year, another nerd-off was out of the question. The school couldn't afford to repaint the cafeteria and gymnasium again. Smart people are way too inventive when it comes to paint and stink bombs. Plus I hated dealing with the aftermath of computer viruses and helping them clean their slanderously marked cars. "Seriously, cut it out! Allen, you won by one freaking point, so stop acting like you handing him his ass or something, he had you by the balls there for a minute."

Allen grumbled softly under his breath some choice words about my morals that I chose to ignore. But I made a mental note to get Ray to kick his ass in Counter-Strike in my form of passive retaliation. Bri just smirked pleasantly at me, his previous burst in temper apparently forgotten for now. "How's it going Noe?"

I shrugged my shoulders carelessly and put my lunch tray down on the table opposite them. The second table from the windows had been designated for the Magic players since our freshmen year, possibly before even then. "Eh," I answered indifferently. Instead of continuing the conversation, he turned back to Allen and they both proceeded to shuffle their cards and prepare another challenge. By now I was used to their short attention spans outside the world of card and computer games.

I sat down next to Amanda, one of several goths at our school. Today she was in top form, her black dress, purple and black striped stockings and knee-high black boots on prominent display as she propped her legs on the lunch table. She didn't have to wear pale make-up, though not many of our goth friends did, she was pale as death naturally. Next to Darcia, she was the most insane girl I had ever met. Standing a whopping 4'11, she was dynamite in a small package. Even Skyrhill was afraid of her.

"Whoa, who invited the poser?" a girl with blonde spiky hair, asked. She was obviously a freshman, and I raised an eyebrow at her.

Instead of having to defend myself, Amanda did so for me. She removed her feet from the table and stuck her face deep into the freshman's personal bubble, so much so that it looked like they were kissing. "She belongs here, you don't, so shut your face before I rip it off," she hissed at her.

The freshman didn't look completely convinced, even though she had turned humilation-tomato red. Well aware that this could end badly for the newbie, I put my hand on Amanda's shoulder and squeezed. She backed off slowly, and I offered the new girl my hand. "I'm Noe, affectionately known as 'the resident poser'. This is Amanda, not so affectionately known as our 'Future Serial Killer.' You are?"

Punk Rocker Girl swallowed slowly and took my hand. "I'm Lindsay," she responded, and quickly released my hand.

"Well Lindsay, there are a few things you are going to have to get used to at this school. One: Don't buy into the old high school stereotypes. You don't have to be a Goth or Punk to hang out at this table. We are actually more accepting than the jocks or preps. Two: Don't ever, ever, mess with Amanda. She will fucka you upa. Believe me, she may be small, but she can kick some ass. You will learn the rest as you go along." I consider this my good deed for the day. I mean it's not like I save people everyday from Amanda's wrath. She usually likes to reserve her rampages for when I am not around. I don't do violent scenes, blood is hell to get out of clothes.

"Noemi!!"

Being scared out of my wits, I manage with stunning accuracy to flick the contents of my fork over my head. The laughter that follows is priceless, until I hear the swearing. I turn in my seat, napkins in hand and bit down on my lip. "Oh god, Allen I am so sorry!"

A huge glop of spaghetti is running down Allen's face and neck. Everyone at the Magic table is laughing uproarously, as I try to placate the victim of my jumpy nerves. Apologizing again, I try to wipe the offending food from his face, only to jump back as he snatches the napkins from my hands. "Shut up Brighton!" he roars, glaring silent death at his challenger. At this point, Bri is holding his sides, tears falling down his face.

"God, Noe, you are freaking awesome," Greg calls, one of the eight other Magic players sitting at the table. I bite down harder on my lip to keep from laughing. In all fairness, Allen is normally a jerk so I couldn't really bring myself to feel too bad.

"Noemi!"

I turn around and glare at the instigator of my current melodrama. "Yes Darcia?" I ask, doing my best to make my annoyance evident.

"I have found you the man of your dreams!" she cried and everyone at the table rolled their eyes. I only shook my head at her, made sure Allen was moderately calm and sat down. "What?" she cried, "I am serious!"

"Darc, it's not that I don't appreciate you trying to hook me up with someone, but," I began, trying to think of a way to word my issue correctly, "I don't appreciate you trying to hook me up with someone."

Darcia took the seat across from me, a disapproving frown on her face. "Seriously girl, you need to get out there! You are going to be eighteen in like, what, four months?"

"Five," I corrected softly, well aware of where her arguement was going. Obviously I need to screen my friends better.

"Eighteen, and you have never even been kissed! Come on! You don't go out to clubs, or even parties, and you don't get into any of the stuff we do here at school! You don't want to go to Prom!" she wailed moodily.

"Darc, I don't feel the need to go to clubs, or parties. And Prom is just another way for Senior year to cost a freakin' fortune. There is no way I could really afford it, even if I wanted to go. Besides, I don't dance," I argued. The last part was a lie. I dance. I am even pretty good at it. I have been taking dance lessons for almost three years. Coming up with an inexpensive way to lose weight had been a little difficult for me. I could have probably done some walking, that was free, but my neighborhood is way to unsafe to go walking, and my father only let me use the car to go to school, pick up my brothers and sister, and come home. I had to give him advanced notice, plus a full iteneriary of my activities minute by minute if I wanted to use the car for other reasons. It's stupid, but I was too embarassed to ask my father to borrow the car to lose weight. Instead I got a free membership to a gym for a year when they had a special, and my mom dropped me off on the weekends. My dance instructor, Angelo, thought my dedication warranted continued lessons even after my membership was up. Of course none of my friends knew this. If they did, I would crawl into a hole and die.

"--freakin' hot! God, his eyes were like this intense blue, and he had an eyebrow piercing, and I am pretty sure he had at least one tattoo! You have no idea how--" she said.

Whoa. I completely missed an entire conversation here! Wait a freaking minute. "Darcia...what the hell are you talking about?"

"Hello! Haven't you been listening? The new transfer student! I think his name was Josh, or James or something like that!" she cried, her voice rising, as I fought the urge to gag her. "He is transfering here all the way from Pennsylvania. How freakin' cool is that?"

I sighed, more than a little exasperated. "A little too 'freakin' cool!' Darc, what makes you think a boy like that would even look at me twice?"

A thunder cloud entered her expression and I realized that I had released Hurricane Darcia into the world. "Don't even start that crap! You are a damn good looking girl, even if you are a little plump. I just, you know, I just want you to be happy!"

"I am happy," I snapped.

"Uh, no, you're not! You walk around here with your head down, you barely talk to anyone who is not in our circle except if you feel someone is being left out of something, then you give your last dollar away to complete strangers! You are too freakin' nice to people and never ask for anything. That is a damn good person, and a beautiful one at that! I just want you to be as happy as I am," she finished, sucking in air from her breathless tirade.

Her happiness happened to be named Craig Anders. One of my closests friends, and the only friend I had known since moving here in the third grade. Being the matchmaker I like to think I am, I pushed them together sophomore year after I met Darcia, and the rest is history, as they say. Of course, Darcia just happened to be the most beautiful girl besides Rachel I knew, and being black added to her exotic beauty. Both she and I were part Cherokee, but she got the better cheekbones and jaw structure. I only got the good skin, but hey, its something, right?

"Look, I really don't feel like arguing the point with you right now. I am trying to have some fun time with you guys today, since most of mine has sucked," I said, quickly trying to change the subject. I should have known something was up with Darcia, she had been way too quiet during third period. I need to pay better attention. When she gets into her 'good samaritan' mode, she usually doesn't stop until she has accomplished as near of her objective as possible.

"Most of your what?" Darc asked, her tone curious, an obvious cue that I have her attention.

"Most of my day, duh! Kellen kept talking about how my typing skills are still progressing, Mrs. White told me I need to go to counselling, and Mr. Sparden is a jerk!" I complained, doing my best to add some fake wailing for effect. "And next period I have Mr Goldwyn, and he is a total hard ass! Shot me!" For my finale, I put my hand to my forehead in despair, then bang my head on the table. Ow...well, that was smart.

Darcia laughter is booming, much like her personality. "You are so crazy!"

Smiling, I reply, "Yeah, well I try."

"Why does Mrs White think you need councelling?" she asked next, and I nearly spit out the spaghetti in my mouth.

None of my friends knew what I had tried to do, just like Mrs White didn't know that that hadn't been the first time I had tried. I had been going through a very trying time, but I didn't like bothering my friends with my problems. That and I think I was scared they would have tared and feathered me if they knew. Over-protectiveness runs rampant among my friends, so I try not to involve any of them in my home life or my problems. Fortunately, or unfortunately if you want to see it this way, Darcia used to live down the street from me until this summer, so she was pretty aware of my family life. It's really not as bad as it could be, it's just there are times when I have to exercise extreme caution when I walk into my parents home. I have perfected the art of mediator as a necessity, rather than it being a natural ability.

"My parents are fighting again, and I am having a little trouble coping," I lie, asking her silently to forgive me for not telling her the truth.

Darcia accepts this quickly, well aware of how stressed out I can get with my home life. "Damn, I'm sorry. Do you need me to help you do anything? I can watch the midgets if you want."

"Nah," I reply, imagining my little brothers putting up with Darcia's quirky sense of humor, and impossible energy. "The munchkins are my responsibility. I am not complaining about them. Besides, my mom would never let someone else watch them unless I was sick or something. Free babysitter and all that. That's why she likes having me around," I laugh.

"Ha ha, smart ass," Darcia snorts.

Being my mother's oldest daughter, I am responsible for everything when she is at work, making me a free babysitter and maid. This includes feeding my father, brothers and sister, helping the sibs with homework, making sure they take a bath and get ready for bed and prepare my father's coffee machine for the morning when he wakes up. Not too bad, it just leaves little time for a social life outside of the house. Something Darcia, being the oldest sister to four other girls, should understand very well, but somehow the information doesn't compute.

"I still think you need to take some time to just be a teenager for a while," Darcia complained.

"Yeah, well, I am pretty sure my dad would have a problem with me trying to be a teenager for a while. He always talks about how terrible our generation is, how slutty and stuff. He probably likes it better that I am not a social butterfly," I parry and riposte, determined not to let her win this battle she was attempting to wage.

"It's not natural! I do believe I remember your mother telling you to have some fun this year. Your last year of high school, your last year of being a kid, I do remember that being said at one point this summer. I can text Rachel for verification, but I do believe that is what she said," Darcia counter-parried back.

Ohhhh...my defenses are open for attack. That clever witch. I defend with a, "Believe me, my dad would killed me if I do something stupid! I would rather just stay at home and watch movies with the brats. It's easier."

"Who said we would be doing anything stupid?" Darcia demanded, entering her thrust and lunge.

I say nothing, just give her a look that says everything. Her eyes lower in defeat and I pump my hand in the air. Victory! Game, point, and match! Woohoo! That's right sucka! Oh crap! I am starting to sound like Allen now! Help!

The bell for the end of lunch sounded and I start in surprise. What the heck! I glare at Darcia and begin shoveling food into my mouth. "You are such a bitch," I growl at her, only it came out sounding like, "Ou er och eh titch." Talking with your mouth full is not only rude, it's an art form. One I had yet to master. Ray and Devin are really good at it though. Grabbing my backpack, I pull the strap over my head and dump my styrofoam tray in the trash. Amanda throws a peace sign in my direction and strolls off, while Darcia and I head toward the main building.

"Shall we venture forth on a journey of discovery, and inevitable anguish and degredation?" I ask Darcia with my best British accent.

She smiles big, "Yes, lets."

"Then pip pip, and tally ho!"

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A/N: This chapter was randomness if I ever wrote it! Haha! Hopefully it's okay, but I needed to introduce a few characters that were going to be important throughout the story. Eventually this story will pick up the pace, I just think Noe is a little bit of a scatterbrain, a lot like me! She thinks in her head, which makes her miss some important info at times.

Disclaimer: Magic the Gathering playing cards are copyright Wizards of the Coast Inc., and Counter-Strike is copyright Sierra Entertainment/Vivendi Universal Games as well as several other, parents, and affiliates. I, in no way, claim ownership to either product or game and I claim nothing in my story that is copyrighted to other persons/companies. This story is my original work and mine alone.