It all began in my seventh grade Spanish class. I waited outside the classroom, along with 20 or so other students. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, my spanish teacher, Mr. Cox, opened the door. My friends, at the time, and I walked into the beautiful classroom, well decorated with many cultural items. And there, sitting right in the corner of the classroom, was a girl. She was wearing a purple polo, marked with the name of our school. My other classmates walked into that class, drenched in sweat. However, not this girl. She was smart to come in the class ahead of time, and avoid the horrid temperatures outside. Everyone immediately began talking about her, but she didn’t seem to care. As a matter of fact, I don't think she even noticed. Whispers erupted from the mouths of EVERY SINGLE student. “I heard she is in Algebra 2.” “Girl, she is wayyy too smart to be here.” “I wonder if she could do my math homework for me.” There was only one other student not bothered by her. His name was Hunter, but he doesn’t get a say, because he went to her elementary school. Mr. Cox then, silenced us all — as quiet as it could get—and began giving us our seats. Now, my last name began with a Y, so I was one of the closest kids to the door. Infront of me was my friend, Marin. However, in front of her was the unique girl. I later learned from Marin that her name was Mehak. At the time, I did not realize she was my age. I actually thought her to be in eighth grade. I only figured out her age after when I realized that my best piano friend . . . was actually one of her closest family friends! I later became closer to her, and eventually even earned the title “friend”. It was not, however, till tennis tryouts when I started spending all my free time with her. Towards the end of the year, Mehak and I both signed up to participate for the track team. It was then when I finally realized that my friendship with her would be supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.