Introduction (because I couldn't think of a better name)

Max's POV

Jeez, I hate Mondays. Who thought school was a good idea? The only good thing about this is the rain, believe it or not, but stormy grey days are my preferred weather. I lower the faded black hood covering my hair, allowing the cold water soak my hair. I grinned. I heard snickering from behind me, and turned to find two of the girls at my school whispering to each other and smirking at me. I hesitantly turned around and pulled my headphones on.

 I click the buttons on my IPod, playing the song I always played on days like this. Yes, I'm antisocial. Why? I'm smart, freakishly smart. And people judge me for it. I lost track of time, the strap of my bag digging into my shoulder, my textbooks making the torn and ratty bag swing in odd ways when I stepped in an odd way. The bus stop was empty except for a small group of girls and boys. I stayed where I could see the bus coming, but avoided the crowd, I've already twisted an ankle and sprained my wrist twice getting too close to them. And no, that wasn't me being clumsy.

I continue to hear snickers and I turn the volume up until I can't hear them. I see a yellow bus rolling down the road, and I see the boys shoving each other to get on first. I cringe as somebody shoves me to the ground, my knees scraping on the ground through my torn pants. Am I ratty 24/7? First I would say, you ask a lot of questions, then I would say yes, I don't try to be a nerd, I like dressing ratty, but I'm smart, and sometimes I don't want to be. Overthinking something, trying to get to the bottom of it, earned me my first bullies, and when I shut my mouth, they thought I was being a coward and stepped up their game. I'll admit, I'm becoming numb.

Time skip 

The bus pulled up to my school, countless other people were milling their ways in the front doors, and I groaned in annoyance as a spitball smacked me in the side of my head. I trudged my way inside, and stopped in my tracks as an all-too familiar brunette and her pack of fashionistas blocked me.

"Well, well, well! If it isn't the blonde-brainiac! How's it going Maxine?", Ivy said, a tone of sarcasm and hatred sticking out in her voice like a wine stain on a white blouse. I felt my cheeks heat up in both rage and embarrassment, I hated people calling me Maxine. It's what my grandparents call me, and frankly, I'm not very fond of them. Ivy shoves me backwards and I stumble, trying to keep my footing. I keep my head down and walk past them, their laughter burning my ears. My footsteps eventually drown out their voices and I feel a bit relieved. I dump my bag and decide to walk around since I don't have to go to class for another 15 minutes.

My wet hoodie is starting to dry and the TVs in the hallways catch my eye, a bright note saying that the results of the most recent provincials have been posted, so I go check it out. I may not have been in any sports, but I did compete in the science fair, so I figured I would be somewhere on the list.

Hmm... Cross country, track and field, floor hockey, volleyball, ah, there it is, academics! Lets see... Sweet! First place in the science fair! And, wait, hold on... What is this?

Narrator's POV

Max's eyes widened as she read the flyer. Apparently, the space program is asking for immigrants for an inhabitable planet. Holy crap, ok, a whole other planet? Max pulled a pen from her pocket and wrote the websites name on her arm, she was going to sign up for this, and maybe she could get in.