A/N: Hey. So this is my first FF in years… my last one was rather crappy, I'm hoping this one will be less so since I'm a little older and a tad wiser. It's my take on Jared and Kim's relationship… just a heads up I'm trying to really characterize the characters of the novel, and Kim's very interested in Psychology and it's in her POV, so there will be mentions about some stuff that people who haven't studied Psych much won't know. They won't be plot altering so it's not really that important to get them, but if you have any questions make sure to ask.

So, without further ado, read on, and please leave a review to tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. [=

~*~

I sighed.

There he was, again. Like every other day. It's so odd how I can be so obsessed with him when his mere existence sends me spiraling into self-consciousness and misery. He doesn't even really know that I exist. Well, maybe that's going a bit far, I was pretty sure he knew my name. Actually, I'm positive he did, because the highlight of my year was the day he asked me for a pencil. He even touched me; tapped me on the shoulder and everything.

I also realize that the fact that that is the highlight of my year is ridiculously pathetic, ergo, the never ending cycle of self-consciousness and misery. I should just forget about him, move on with my life and stop being such an obsessive… creeper.

But he was just so… Jared.

"Kim?" a voice jolted me out of my thoughts.

"Hu?" I replied, slightly dazed. Jared stupors seem to have that kind of effect on me.

"The answer, Kim," the voice replied impatiently. Oh, I had been asked a question… most likely because I wasn't paying attention. Right, so I'm in history class, and I'm staring at Jared, again. Oops. I flushed, and I'm sure if I had been pale I would be bright red by now. See what I mean? I think about Jared, stare blatantly and Jared, and then get humiliated because I'm some type of obsessive stalker creep. Wasn't there a study with a dog and a bell that's supposed to prove how much I should be the opposite of obsessed with him by now?

Our teacher, Mr. Donavan, is glaring at me. Oh, right, history, answer. What were we studying right now again? Frantically, trying to remember, I come up with the American Revolution… and the French Revolution, maybe?

"Um… ah… Marie Antoinette?" I stuttered hopelessly.

Mr. Donavan raised an eyebrow, "I hardly think Marie Antoinette was a writer for the Federalist Papers, Kimberly, especially seeing as she was dead when they were written. Perhaps if you spent more time listening and less time staring at Mr. Thail, you would know that."

There were a few audible snorts and more than a couple giggles from the peanut gallery. I suddenly wished I could melt into a puddle, or really anything that could hide me from the embarrassment. I slid a few inches down in my chair and muttered a, "Yes sir", or something like that.

Luckily Jared didn't seem to notice. As per usual, he was sleeping quite soundly. I sighed again; he was so adorable when he slept.

Then again, I kind of wish he had heard. If he had heard, then he would have to notice me. If he would have noticed me, maybe he would have said something to me… maybe I wouldn't be sitting here, like every other day, wondering and hoping, dreamily, pathetically staring like the stalker girl that I am.

"Miss Connweller!" Mr. Donavan was fuming. Apparently he's angry that I'm not paying attention and blatantly staring at Jared, again. Honestly I don't think I've ever seen him so irate. It was kind of funny, you know, in that hysterical, I've-never-been-in-this-much-trouble-in-my-life kind of way.

Normally, I think I would be crying by now, but sometime between his yelling and my hysteria, his yelling woke Jared, and in case anyone hasn't noticed yet, I find Jared a tad distracting. He's rubbing his eyes and he looks a little grumpy, more than a little actually… he's just been in such a bad mood lately for some reason…

Mr. Donavan is now right in front of my desk, which is three rows from the back and two to the right, on the side of the door. It's also one row from the back, and one row behind and in the column directly to the right of Jared's desk, which is nice, because he always turns his head this way when he sleeps.

Mr. Donavan is still glaring. The vein on the right side of his head is bulging, and I'm a tad worried that he's going to burst a blood vessel.

"Miss Connweller, you can see me after class," he spat at me. I flinch a little and lower my eyes. I can feel everyone's eyes on me. I really hate being the center of attention.

I glance around and Jared is looking at me now, or maybe more the scene I've caused. His eyes become a little squinty and his brows furrow before he lowers his head back to his arms and then its lights out again. I guess he's decided that his nap is far more interesting than me being yelled at. I don't know whether to be relieved that he doesn't realize it's him I'm getting in trouble over, or upset that he cares more about his nap than me being yelled at. I settle for both.

Then I look back up at Mr. Donavan to see that he is still standing over me and glaring at me. I gulp.

Oops.

I mutter another soft, hesitant "Yessir", before I sink another inch into my chair. The whole exchange couldn't have taken more than five minutes, but it seems like a whole day has passed by. The rest of the class period passes by with me taking mindless notes, mostly concentrating on not looking at Jared, and worrying about how much trouble I'm going to be in.

I'm not one to curse, but I'm pretty sure that the amount of trouble I'm in couldn't be described as anything less than a shitload. But then I've never really gotten in trouble before, so I think even a stern talking to feels like major discipline. Speaking of, oh no, Mom is going to kill me.

The bell rings. I grab my stuff, putting my papers away slowly and discretely, pretending not to notice the stares and smirks of my traitorous classmates, leaving me here to my doom. Honestly, half of these kids have been my playmates since pre-k and not even a single heartfelt "good luck"? Of course I also notice that some of them don't look at me at all. One in particular, that is. I have a feeling I don't need to mention who.

Mr. Donavan is standing behind his desk waiting patiently for me to walk up to him. Well, maybe patiently is the wrong word, it's more like he's staking out and waiting to strike, like those Venus fly traps you see on the discovery channel. In this metaphor I am the stupid fly who's about to be devoured.

Yay me.

As I walk up he does that teacher/parent thing; when they get that I'm-so-disappointed-in-you-the-only-thing-I'm-capable-of-doing-is-shrugging-my-shoulders-and-giving-you-this-look look. It makes me a little angry, because it isn't like he actually cares about me and my education, he's just angry that I'm not in raptures at his marvelous lecturing. At least that's what I'm telling myself, because otherwise I've really done something wrong by not listening, and not only I'm about to be punished for staring at the boy who I'm obsessed with and doesn't even know I exist, but I'm also wrong.

And this day really does not need to get any suckier. For goodness sake, it's only second period.

After Mr. Donavan finishes with the look, and finishes the whole "I'm so disappointed in your behavior" spiel, he gives me a week of detention, to start whenever he so chooses, and assigns me a three page essay on the importance of paying attention in class.

A week of detention. For staring at a boy.

Outwardly, I'm still shy timid Kimberly Ann Connweller, abashed and terribly sorry for my actions.

Inwardly, I'm livid.

I mean really! What kind of self-righteous, narcissistic ass-hat gives someone an entire week's worth of detention for staring at a freaking boy?!

Mr. Donavan apparently.

~*~

"What?!" My best friend, really my only friend, Garrett Carter, yells appropriately when I tell him in lunch about the incident this morning.

Garrett has been my best friend as long as I can remember. He's a big dork, he likes chess and that World of Warcraft stuff, he's as thin as a rail, gangly and tallish, and he has the best grades in our class. He's super sweet though, and he always listens, which is such a rare quality in a boy. I guess that's why we mesh well, me being the unbearably shy, Jared-stalker girl and everything.

"A week of detention?! That's really unfair. Maybe you should talk to the principal, Kim." Garrett's solution to everything: seek help from higher authorities.

"And have Mr. Donavan hate me more than he already does?" I reply, "Hardly. Honestly, it won't be that bad… it's not worth the trouble."

"Yes it is, Kim." Garrett gives me a knowing look. He knows that when I say it's not worth the trouble, I'm saying, that I'm not worth the trouble. Which I'm really not, but I'm cool with it. I'm used to being the overlooked one, and I don't like being fussed over.

I glare at Garrett's knowing look and give him my patented we've-been-here-before-so-don't-go-down-this-road-again look.

He huffs and mutters, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I recognize that tree."

I can't help but laugh. We're so in synch it's ridiculous. He laughs too and the ice is broken. He then launches into an in depth description of his latest nerdy endeavor and I do my best to pay attention.

The only problem is Jared's just walked into the lunchroom… and well…

What's the point of even trying?

~*~

Hehe, brownie points to anyone who recognizes a quote in there.

So let me know what you think! Reviews make me happy, and when I'm happy I like to write. So if you liked it, then maybe you want to make me happy…