Ah...the Middle School years. Still being little, I have a clearer memory of them than I'd like to have. I was doomed to the same class of kids from Kindergarten through grade eight, due to the fact that it was a small private school. I never did find my niche, and seventh grade was a year of conformity that I'd like to forget. I acted like a complete idiot, listened to music I hated because everyone else did, and wore clothes with brand names smeared across them, and even worse, I was liked for it. That wasn't worth being a walking Roxy billboard. When I reverted to my normal self in grade eight, nobody knew what had hit me. I chose to remain on the outskirts all year. So much for the glory years. And my first French kiss? I was ill for hours afterward.