My alarm goes off at six and I'm ready to throw it at the wall. If you've ever thought that there's no way you could possibly hate a sound with a passion, try setting it as your alarm. I sit up in my bed, and fall back down again. Mondays are always the hardest. I repeat this struggle a few times before actually making it to my bathroom. I'm lucky enough to have my own bathroom in my bedroom, the thought of sharing one grosses me out.

I plug in my curling wand and brush my teeth as it heats up. I curl my hair pretty tightly because I feel it adds more volume. I hairspray it down and start on my makeup. I do the same look I always do: foundation, blush, light brown eyeshadow and mascara. For some people that's either too little or too much. For me, it just makes me look awake. Satisfied with my hair and face I walk back into my room to pick an outfit.

I check the weather on my phone to make sure my clothing is appropriate. It's going to be a high of 73 degrees. I decide on a pair of dark jean shorts and an oversized black sweater with a gold cross printed on the front. My outfit is contradicting, but in California, it works. I check the time and I have half an hour before I need to be at school.

I grab my bag and head downstairs for breakfast. My mom is still sleeping and my dad has already gone to work, so my mornings are always quiet. I pour myself some Cinnamon Toast Crunch and sit at the kitchen island to enjoy my food. Once I'm finished I put my bowl in the sink, grab my keys and head back upstairs to kiss my mom goodbye. She mumbles she loves me and I'm out the door.

In the driveway sits my very own four-door 1997 Camry. It was my parents' first car they got as a couple and it was my 16th birthday present. It's a bit of a fixer upper, but it's my baby and I love it. I climb in the drivers seat and start the car. Before I pull out of the driveway, I notice that the house next to mine has the garage door open, and the 'For Sale' sign has been removed.

Looks like the new neighbors are moving in today. Great. There goes my beautiful view until the curse works its magic and these new people move out.

I shake my loss out of my head and drive off. It takes me about ten minutes to get to school. It sounds quick, but the walk would probably take me an hour. I pull into the student parking lot at the back of the school and park in my usual spot. There's always a ton of kids back here in the morning, hanging out before the first bell rings. They're all a bunch of jocks and cheerleaders. How typical.

I'm making my way to the D building as someone yells, "Hey freak!" I turn and see that it's Chance Harper. I've known him since the first grade and he's never failed to call me at least one name each day. All of his other friends laugh and I just roll my eyes and step into the building. First name of the day.

I make sure I show up to school just as the bell rings so I don't have to stand alone like an idiot. My first class is honors algebra II and their isn't a worse subject to have that early in the morning. Luckily my teacher isn't into groups, so everyone is pretty much alone in that class, like me.

She starts the class of by passing back the tests we took on Friday. I got an A. Yes! I really don't pay attention the rest of the class because she just going over the test for people who need help, and I obviously don't need it. The bell rings and I head to the office for second period. I'm the school's secretary's assistant which means I answer the phones and deliver packages to teachers.

I'm greeted by the counselors' assistants as I walk into the office. I say good morning to each lady and make my way to the front desk. Mrs. Arlene looks swamped with a bunch of phone calls so I pick up the other phone to help.

"Brent High School, how may I help you," I say.

"Yeah hi, I'd like to excuse my son from school today, he has a fever and isn't feeling too well," the woman on the other line says.

"One moment," I reply. I transfer her call to the attendance line and boom, one call down. All the other calls were regarding grades so I transferred them to the appropriate counselor. Mrs. Arlene excuses herself to go sort mail in the mail room while I watch the phones. She's a nice lady, no older than 55. She reminds me of my grandma, but she just talks a lot more.

I'm alone at the front desk until confused parents start walking in. Since I'm the first person they see, it's my job to be able to point them into the right direction.

"Where do I check my son out of school," a middle aged man asks.

"If you go straight down this hallway," I say pointing to my left, "the first lady at the desk can help you." This routine of answering phones and sending people in the right direction goes on for an hour and then second period is over. My next two classes are Anatomy and U.S. History. Yawn. Those are both basically self-teach classes so I usually just work at home instead of class.

Next is lunch. I always dread going to lunch because it's a half hour everyday I have to spend trying to make small talk with my only friend. Don't get me wrong, we've been friends since freshman year, but she's kind of hard to have an ongoing conversation with. Her parents are really strict and don't let her do anything, not even go out for a walk.

Her name is Judith and she waits for me in the hallway of the E building. She's about two inches shorter than me, pale skin, and long down-to-her-butt dirty blonde hair. Her parents won't even let her get a haircut.

"Hi," she greets me.

"Hey," I say back. We walk to the cafeteria in silence and sit at our usual table. We're reaching the point where the silence is awkward so I ask, "What'd you do this weekend?"

"Nothing," she sighs, "just stayed in my room." And that's it. That's our conversation. She eats her lunch and I pull an apple out of my bag and take a bite. The cafeteria is starting to fill up and I see a group of 'popular' kids looking for seats. When they fail to find some, they come to our table.

"Move loser," the main bitch says. Her name is Nova and all she's good for are her big boobs and thin waist. I look up at her and take another bite of my apple. Judith looks down and stands up. "Oh Judith you can stay if you like, it's her who needs to leave," Nova says looking to me. "You'd think she'd be used to the feeling of not being wanted," she snorts and her pack of followers laugh. If I was in elementary school, I'd probably cry, but I'm not, so I don't. I just sit, eating my apple.

Nova gets frustrated and stomps her foot, "you see, this is why no one likes you," she says and walks away. As if she'd like me if I would've moved.

"Don't listen to her," Judith tells me.

"I know, and hey you shouldn't have gotten up to move, don't let them push you around either, okay?"

"Alright," she says. The bells rings and I'm off to English. I don't understand how my teacher got her degree since she never teaches. All she does is talk about herself and crack jokes. It works out in everyone's favor though since everyone has an A in her class.

My last period of the day is my sport which is swimming, but since it's not in season until second semester, I go home right after English.

I reach the student parking lot by exiting through the back of the E building. In the parking lot there's a bunch of football players changing into their gear.

"Hey Camryn!" One of them says in a mocking tone. "What kind of girl name is that, oh wait, it isn't!" He says bursting into laughter. I ignore his existence and get into my car.

I refuse to feel any shame about my name because it's the only thing I have from my birth parents besides this necklace I never take off. It's just another thing people use to try and get to me, but c'mon, who cares. I drive home singing at the top of my lungs to my favorite band Third Eye Blind. I always freak out when the radio plays a song by them.

As I approach my house I see a big Uhaul truck in the next driveway. As I park my car I see a boy exiting the truck with a box labeled I can'thelp but laugh at the vulgar label as I get out of my car and the boy looks in my direction, his eyebrows raised.

He's actually quite handsome. He's tall, maybe 6'2, light brown hair and a very strong jawline. You can see his muscles underneath his gray T-shirt. He stays looking at me and I quickly turn away, walking to my front door.

As I walk in, the smell of enchiladas smacks me in the face. I walk into the kitchen, which is to the left of the front door and find my mom chopping up some onions. This is my favorite meal and my mom only makes them on special occasions.

"Did I forget something important?" I ask her, pointing at the tray of enchiladas. She laughs and shakes her head.

"No, I invited our new neighbors over for dinner," she says. Before I have the chance to complain, she adds, "and since I know you hate company, I made your favorite food to make up for it."

"Thanks," I say with a sarcastic smile. I go upstairs to my room and shut the door. Just as I'm about to lay on my bed, I look out my window and see the guy from outside in the room across from mine. He's setting down the box he was carrying outside and I decide to cover the window before he notices me.

I grab my curtains from my dresser next to my bathroom and stand up on my bed. I hang the curtain on the railing just above the window and before I let it go, I notice the boy watching me. He looks angry, his face hard as if I bothered him. Both of our windows are open so I say, "Sorry," and offer a small smile before letting the curtain go. I lay on my bed and start on my math homework. Before I know it, my dad's home from work and my mom's calling me downstairs for dinner.

I head downstairs and see a tall middle aged looking man standing by the door, and right beside him is the boy. They both look at me and I'm confused until I remember my mom invited them for dinner. Right on cue my mom walks out of the kitchen.

"Camryn, say hi to our new neighbors, this is Mr. Sommers," she says extending her hand towards the man, "and this is his son Colton," she says pointing to the boy.

I take a few steps toward them and extend my hand. "Hi, I'm Camryn," I say, shaking Mr. Sommers hand.

"Hello there, and hey, you can call me Walt," he says with a smile. His smile sends a chill down my spine for a reason I can't explain. I mean he looks nice, tall, dark hair and tan skin, but something about him is uneasy. He stays shaking my hand smiling a little longer than a handshake would.

"I'm Colton," the boy says, saving me from the awkward encounter. I shake his hand.

"I'm Camryn," I say for the second time. He makes very direct eye contact and I notice his eyes are hazel. I look away from his stare and turn to my mother.

"Time to eat," she smiles.