"Mark Cohen?"

Mark raised his hand, not bothering to lift his head from where it was buried in the crook of his arm. He knew the teacher was glaring at him, after all she had made it clear at the beginning of class that she wanted everyone present to call "here" when they were called, but who cared? He'd pissed all the teachers off the years before, so why break the tradition?

"Thomas Collins?" He could tell without looking up that Collins was waving at the teacher, probably engrossed in picking at the woodwork of the desk. And he also knew the teacher was not happy.

"Roger Davis?" Since school had started three days ago, no one had ever answered when that name was called. The kid had probably skipped class. So Mark was shocked when a voice drawled out lazily, "Not here." The sarcasm pooled together and started a steady flow of drips. The blond raised his head and scanned the room, trying to find the source of the voice. Sitting two rows to the side and one row to the back of him was Roger Davis. His dirty bleached blond hair was cropped short and Mark decided the messiness was style and not because he had rolled out of bed. Four earrings adorned the guy's left ear and two more his right. He wore the typical punkish outfit: a tight, sleeveless shirt with "F--- off" scrawled across it, ripped jeans, and black boots.

The teacher scowled ferociously, but checked Roger off as 'present.' "Next time I receive an answer like that, Mr. Davis, you will be marked down as 'absent.'" Roger shrugged one shoulder. "Sure, whatever."

Mark's head dropped back into its protective shelter as the teacher continued with the roll call. It was only the fourth day of high school, but it felt like it had been forever. He wondered how he would survive his sophomore year of high school, after all, he had barely made it through his freshman year. Being one of the smallest in his class has not gone well as it quickly raised his status of "easiest victim" among the bullies.

"Now I hope you are all prepared for your presentation of the period of history you wish to concentrate on most tomorrow. Those of you," here, she glared at Roger who gave her an innocent smirk, "not prepared for this yet better start if you wish to earn a good grade." Mark groaned; he had not even glanced at the textbook, let alone prepared a presentation. His head sank lower, if that was even possible.

-

Roger looked over as a soft groan reached his ears. Nobody else seemed to have noticed, but then months of playing the guitar did help his ears. Judging by one of the student's head-in-arms position, he could tell that was where the sound had come from. He laughed quietly. So, a certain naughty little boy had forgotten to do his homework, hm? He racked his brain. He knew the name, the guy right before him in alphabetical order. Mario, Matt, Mark. Mark, that was it. Mark Co…Cohen. Cohen. Where'd he hear that name before? Come to think of it, where had he seen that guy before?

The boy finally lifted his head again. His glasses sat crookedly on his nose, barely hanging on and his hair was mussed like someone had just gelled his hair and then brushed it backwards. A look of extreme boredom graced his face. Roger stifled a snicker. He's not going to be bored after this. Casually reaching under his seat, he unzipped his backpack and felt around inside it. His calloused fingers met nothing at first, then fur. He allowed his face to relax into a small grin. His sister Eliza was probably racing around the house looking for her bunny right now, or as she called it, Kenny. God, who calls a bunny Kenny? Anyways, Kenny was going to create some fun. Tipping his backpack over with his fingers, he waited for the rabbit to take a few cautious steps out before straightening his bag.

The rabbit made its way towards Mark and sat by his bag for a few moments. Perfect. The animal could have been reading Roger's mind. Mark looked down and blinked. He pulled up his sleeve slightly and pinched himself before shaking his head. He looked up and met Roger's eyes. Roger smirked and the glazed, bored look in Mark's blue eyes faded away completely.

"Ahem." Mark jumped slightly and quickly turned around in his chair, facing the front again as the teacher frowned at him. But the slouch had gone from his body and his eyes were alert, glancing at the white furball crouching near his chair.

Pretending to focus on the teacher, Roger watched out of the corner of his eye as the bunny hopped its way down the aisle, past several tapping shoes, to a leather, sophisticated-looking bookbag. The bright gold letters on the front printed out 'Benjamin Coffin III.'

Come on, bunny. Nibble at the bag, nibble at it. Kenny paused in front of the bag slightly, then did something that made Roger's eyes bug out and laughter start to bubble in his throat.

A white flash caught Mark's eye and he turned his head slightly to catch the back end of the rabbit disappearing into Benny Coffin's bag. His hand went up to his mouth and a muffled laugh escaped between his fingers. The teacher put her hands on her hips and gave Mark a fierce stare. "Is something wrong, Mr. Cohen?" Mark recovered as best he could and shook his head. "Nothing."

The bag was now giving little jerks and spasms. Roger snickered behind his hand as the entire bookbag tipped over, the bunny tumbling out with its white fur covered by pieces of lettuce and tomato. One of its ears was smeared with what looked like ketchup. Benny looked down at that exact moment. His hand shot up into the air. "MI-ISS! There's a rabbit in my bookbag!" He pronounced "rabbit" with a tone of utter disgust. The class broke out into a frenzied act of yells, laughter, and a few screams from some of the girls. Most of the boys, including Mark and Collins, were splitting their sides laughing. Roger was just leaning against his desk, a very wide smirk on his lips.

The teacher was chasing Kenny around, grabbing at him and missing horribly. Benny was kneeling by his desk, an exasperated look on his face as he examined the remains of his cheeseburger, most of which was now covering a certain rabbit.

"Nosedive!" someone yelled. Instantly, Roger's smirk faded about two centimeters. Shit. If that rabbit had tried to drown itself and succeeded, his sister was going to kill him, brother or not. He turned and caught the rabbit frantically swimming in the fishtank. The goldfish were cowering behind their plastic castle while the unknown object struggled above them. Muttering under his breath about a "stupid rabbit," Roger scooped the bunny out with one hand and raced for the boy's bathroom to dry it off.

Mark watched Roger leave, carrying the soggy rabbit as far from his body as possible. None of the other students had noticed, all watching the teacher searching the room for the magical rabbit that had appeared and disappeared just like that. Yes, he definitely could survive his sophomore year of high school.