A/N: Ah, at last—a work I’ve been planning since September is up! Ever since I saw The Ant Bully on my seventeenth birthday, I’ve been planning a sequel of some sort; this is the result. I realize that the time frame may be off, but bear with me.

As usual, I (sadly) don’t own The Ant Bully, just Hova Nickle. (Not Julia Roberts Hova; just read and see.)

PROLOGUE

Morning, December 21st, 2037

“Hey, Whore-vah.”

The teen girl being addressed turned away from her open locker. She looked at the source of the address, an immensely more popular girl named Abby. “My name’s not that hard to pronounce,” she said as she hung up her heavy winter coat in her puke-yellow colored locker. “It’s Hova: hoh-vah.” The subtle note of a sigh made it seem like a common refrain.

“Whatever,” Abby sneered, stepping closer to Hova. “Still talking to your spider friends?”

Hova looked up at the sketches she’d drawn of two insects that were taped to the inside of her locker door. “First of all: they’re ants, not spiders,” she said patiently, as if this, too, were a common refrain. “Second: a spider would eat ‘em. Third: they’re not my friends; they’re two drawings I’m really proud of.”

“Is that why you’re bio notebook is covered with those exact same drawings?” Abby asked.

Hova looked down at her biology notebook. Indeed, the notebook was covered with drawings identical to the ones hanging in her locker. “Maybe,” she said vaguely, her confidence slipping. “Still doesn’t mean I talk to the drawings.”

Abby stepped closer. “Don’t play dumb with me, Whore-vah—I’ve watched you talk to those drawings. Are they your friends?”

“No!” Hova snapped.

“Then why are there names on the drawings?” Abby icily inquired. “One of the names being yours?”

Hova didn’t answer, but glanced up and down the hall, looking for an escape.

“That’s what I thought,” Abby murmured. “You’re one fucked up chick, Whore-vah.” Flipping her platinum-on-platinum blonde hair, Abby left.

Hova looked up at the drawings Abby—and most of the senior class of 2038, it seemed—

loved to mock. The drawing on the left was of a slim, feminine looking ant with lavender colored eyes, with Hova’s own first name written underneath in flowing script. The drawing on the right was of a sinewy, masculine ant with a glowing staff in his hands and the name Zoc printed underneath in nearly illegible block print. “Sorry about that, guys,” she murmured as she gently shut the locker and left for first period Biology.

A/N: Please drop me a review. Also, happy birthday to Seshta Heka Anna—this is your birthday present. Enjoy!