A/N: I don't own Twilight, or any of it's characters.

Another day, another 24 hours of existence. The only thing I have in my life is my dream of someday becoming more, more of a dreamer, more of a socialite, more of a person. Right now, people don't really seem to think of me as a real human, let along a person.

"Ms. Swan? Ms. Swan, are you with us dear?" Mrs. Henderson asked, peering down at me from the front of my desk. She looked concerned; all the teachers liked me, which was something I guess. I tried hard in school, I always have tried. I guess that's the one thing that makes me unique, besides my freakish love of reading. No one cares though. Who would expect them too? I'm just a girl, people notice occasionally reading, or writing, doing homework. It's been so long since anyone cared about me that it doesn't even bother me. I don't think my Dad really even knows what to say to me anymore. Ever since Mom left us, he hasn't been particularly talkative. She said that she just wasn't cut out for this type of small town life, but secretly, I think that it was because of me that she left us. I wasn't the outgoing, bright star that she was, and I think that made her life boring. Our personalities were just too different.

"I'm fine," I muttered, trying to stay away from attention. Because when you were someone like me, attention could only be a bad thing. I was pretty average looking, so I guess that helped me fade into the background. My plain brown hair was tied up in a ponytail, and I wore bland, general clothing, jeans and an in descript tee-shirt.

As the bell rang, I picked up my book bag and slung it over my shoulder, it was heavy from all of the course homework I had, and it caused me to drop my two books I was reading on the floor. I was contemplating picking them up, when a golden tanned hand reached down and swiped them off the ground. It was Mike Newton, golden boy extraordinaire. He excelled at all three sports, and most of the female population was in love with him. I guess you could count me in that population. I had admired him from afar on many occasions, but he'd never actually spoken to me outright since the seventh grade when we had to do a science project together.

"Here you go," he said, putting them in my hands.

"Thanks," I mumbled, the flush on my face was a deep red.

"Why do you have two books, are they for English? I didn't think we had any assigned books right now."

"We don't," I said, shifting my back pack onto a more comfortable part of my shoulder, "I am just reading them for fun."

"Fun," he commented doubtfully.

"Yeah." I was going to be late for class, I just knew it. It didn't matter though, I had Mrs. Stiller, she loved me. I could probably get away with it with only a grim, disapproving look, instead of a detention.

"See you later then," he said, and sauntered out the door. I stared after him, wondering if he really meant that. I hoped so, but it was foolish of me to hope like that, he really wouldn't see me later, or speak to me later. There would be no later.

I hurried on to English in a daze.

Later on that day, as I was eating lunch alone, at my usual four seat table, I heard Jessica, Mike's ex-girlfriend, who I personally thought wanted to be his girlfriend again, gossiping about the new kids coming to our school. Apparently, there were five of them, there were three seniors and two juniors, three boys and two girls. How she had all of this information on them still makes me wonder. They were moving here because their father, Dr. Cullen was accepting the new position at that hospital that Mr. Green was leaving open, since he was retiring. I think that their mother was a stay at home mom. Yeah, good luck with that, Renee had tried that too.

Not that the news of the new kids made any difference to me. They were probably just wannabe average kids a little more popular than me (anyone was) and if they by a freak chance were more than average, they still certainly wouldn't have anything to do with me. I sighed in dejection. My life seemed to be going nowhere.

I went home, made dinner for Charlie and did my homework, that alone took 3½ hours to do. Then I went up to my room and picked up one of my old favorites, My Friend Flicka. I could certainly relate to the solitude of Wyoming anyway.

As I closed my eyes, I fought back the despair that gripped at my stomach. I couldn't go on like this, something had to change.

A/N: Tell me what you think, is it good? Is it bad? Should I keep it going, I will if you write in and review!