If there was one thing Jessica Moore was certain of, it was that she loved high school. Not necessarily with the burning ferocity of a thousand suns, but with a quiet adoration. She was blessed to have never been bullied or even teased in her short, privileged life, to have never shied away from a crowd or known the fear of the coming school day. She had a promising social life and a large group of friends. To say she was living the adolescent dream wouldn't have been too far off base. There was one thing however, that she absolutely despised, English. Not the language mind you, but the class. Her short stories were atrocious, poetry dreadful and grammar left something to be desired. With every fibre of her being she hated the mandatory class, that and the boy beside her.

This boy was quiet and studious, head always ducked and hand perpetually scrawling cramped notes. It wasn't that he'd ever done anything to her, actually quite the opposite. He had appeared on the first day of class and had not yet uttered so much as a 'hello'. He was an enigma alright, painfully attractive yet too intimidating to approach. Contempt radiated off him in waves and Jessica got the feeling that he wasn't particularly fond of anything or anyone. He was silent and sullen, with deep dark circles sitting beneath his eyes. Jessica hated this boy, Jack, especially in this moment.

"Jack?" She said quietly, testing the waters and praying that was his name.

He glanced up, surprise written across his lovely features.

"Could I borrow a pencil? Mine is all out of lead." She nodded towards her worn mechanical pencil, sitting upon her desk. The boy hesitated before turning back to the front of the class. Jessica hesitated for a moment, confusion and uncertainty left her flustered.

"Hello? Can I? You have like three pencil sitting right there!"

"Jessica! Am I interrupting your conversation with Mr. Napier?" Mr. Howards barked. Jessica blanched, all eyes were turned on her and for the first time she didn't exactly appreciate it.

"No sir, I was asking Jack to borrow a-"

"Ah so not only do you find it appropriate to interrupt my class but you also come unprepared?" Horror and mortification bloomed in the pit of her stomach, her face now puce. Before she could sputter an apology Mr. Howards raised his hand and silenced her.

"Grab a pen from my desk and if you interrupt my class anymore we'll have a chat after school."

Jessica nodded hurriedly and practically ran to his desk at the front of the room, shaking her hair over her face to hide her flaming cheeks. Once she was seated in her desk she risked a glance at the boy beside her, who sat smirking smugly. Her hands trembled with rage as she wrote out shaky notes for the remaining hour, mulling over the best possible ways to murder Jack Napier. Once the douche bag formerly known as Howard sat at his oak desk Jessica turned her focus to Mr. Napier.

"You're a fucking asshole." She spat in a hushed whisper, her eyes steadfast on the open binder in her lap. The infuriating boy turned to her in shock.

"You could have just lent me a pencil you prick, and then you just sat there fucking smiling. What is wrong with you?" This time she turned towards him, words still hushed as ever.

Jack's head was lowered, eye brows raised in disbelief. A sly smirk began to ooze across his face. She was unsure how she'd ever thought he was even somewhat handsome, the quivering anger and indignation twisting his features into a gruesome leer.

"I'm sorry Jessica." She sat back, startled at having heard him speak for the first time. No, he wasn't allowed to just be sorry. He had to pay for making her look like an idiot in front of all her peers. He had to grovel at her feet and give her a fucking pencil when she asked for it. She was Jessica fucking Moore and no snot nosed little snit could do that to her.

"Shut up, no you aren't! You have no idea what you've done; I could get someone to beat the crap out of you in a second. Do you realize that?" Her voice was steadily getting louder and shriller. She bit down on the soft flesh of her inner cheek to keep from yelling.

"Jessica I'm sorry." He was grinning now, apparently revelling in her fury. She had never been talked to this way and had absolutely no idea how to handle the anger building in her belly. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she snapped it closed, refusing to even acknowledge the idiot to her left. She slammed her binder closed and fixed her purse on her shoulder. A second later the bell rang and she leapt to her feet. She was already striding towards the door before she turned around, headed back towards the chuckling boy and kicked at his notebook lying at his feet. It shot halfway across the class room and she shot him a smug little smile before spinning on her heel and storming from the room, elbowing her way through the hallway congestion.

Later that night as she lay in her bed her brain wouldn't stop replaying the scene, digesting every little expression that graced his face and pondering over her actions. She felt embarrassed for how she'd behaved, lashing out like that. Of course he'd been rude and had provoked her into an all-out rage attack, but it had been her fault. She was the one who chose to make herself look like a volatile psycho. Oh god and had she threatened to get someone to beat him up? Was she still in elementary school? She groaned into her pillow before punching her headboard. She recoiled her throbbing hand in horror. This was exactly the kind of overreactions that got her into these kinds of situations. No matter, she thought resolutely, tomorrow she would apologize and prove that she, Jessica fucking Moore, was indeed more mature and humble than Jack Napier