(I need a title)|Chapter 1 I know you wanna read it so do so! Aw, just read it!!!!!!!!!!!11

by Gingy in vincible.

If you wanted to put all the kids in Westfield Preparatory into groups-the troublemakers, the nerds, the preps, etc.-then January Granato deserved a group of her own.

She was smart. Everyone knew that. She was creative and artsy. When all the fourth graders' artwork got hung in the public library, January's own version of The Starry Night-The Cloudy Morning-was awarded with "Painting of the Month" by the library staff. She was athletic. The fifth grade basketball team won the championship thanks to January's three-pointer that fell in just as the buzzer rang at the end of the game.

But the only thing that January hated was that she wasn't popular. She had the makings of the future Miss Congeniality, but she just wasn't born to be popular. But January never really cared as long as Nona was there with her.

Nona and January were the inseparable pair, the McAllister Elementary goof-offs, and the laughing machines of Mrs. Granger's fourth grade class.

Of course, that changed in fifth grade.

Two things happened that year. 1) Nevra Brenner moved to Westfield and 2) she stole Nona from January. So Nona and Nevra basically ignored January. Nona was never in to handball, or four square, or hopscotch. She and January would rather sit down on the benches and just talk. Talk about Joshua Funke's new haircut, the rib-shaped clouds in the sky, or even themselves. But Nona thought that Nevra was "cool," so she started playing with Nevra and what January liked to call, "her V.I.P. group."

Fifth grade, in all, was terrible for January. And sixth grade wasn't looking too well.

In the small town of Westfield, there were two elementary schools, one preparatory school, one junior high, and one high school. The preparatory was just sixth grade, where all the McAllister Elementary or the Kingston Elementary kids met.

Westfield Preparatory was different. There was the dean, who was always walking in the hallways scolding kids with sagging pants or beanies. There was the principal, who sat in his own office, sometimes talking with troublemakers or making phone calls. And the students were the same, every year. There was always a handful of rubble-rousers, a handful of nerds, a few flunkers and kids with "special needs", and what the staff liked to call, "The Big Crowd."

But no one in Westfield-not the teachers nor students-had ever named a group for the living wreck that went by January.

January was alone when she entered the building. She was frowning, with her regular grey hoodie on. More than half of the Westfield girls wore makeup. Not January. Her face was pale, from the summer of going nowhere, and her lips were chapped. January called this her, "What's the Point" look, which got her parents to buy her a lot over the summer. But there was one thing January couldn't buy: Nona.

"Hi, I'm Annabel,"

January looked up, to make sure anyone was talking to her. Her eyes met with big, chocolate brown ones with flecks of hazel. There was a brisk silence, and finally, January opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm January," she replied. Her voice was like breeze in the air, some little detail that everyone ignored.

Annabel took a seat behind January. "Are you okay?" she asked. "I mean, it's the first day of school. Everyone's all happy, excited. Why aren't you?"

January would have been angry. Annabel had nothing to do with this. But she was trying to help. January waved her anger away.

She smiled. "Oh, I dunno. Sixth grade just doesn't look like a joyride,"

Annabel blinked. "Um...the school bell hasn't rung yet. You're still a fifth grader."

January giggled. "Yeah, I guess."

"The bell should ring, though, in about 3...2...1..."

The bell rang, and sixth grade had officially begun.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Hello, I am Ms. Wright, your homeroom teacher,"

Ms. Wright's voice was light and beautiful. It made you want to hear her talk, which made everyone listen more, and there was less talking.

"Well, anyways, I shall taketh role,"

The class laughed.

"Rory Albright?" Ms. Wright said.

"He-ere!" Rory cried, waving her hands in the air.

"Okay, she's not dead," Ms. Wright joked. "Annabel Benton?"

"Not here," Annabel grinned.

The day sped by. Nevra was only in one of January's classes, and Annabel had math, history, and science with January. Nona wasn't in the same lunch period as January, but Nona and January had history, gym, and language arts together.

Maybe sixth grade wouldn't be so bad. Maybe January had to thank Nevra. Because if it wasn't for her, January's great idea never would have sprouted.