Hey guys.

For those of you who regularly follow me, I'm so sorry that I haven't updated any of my other stories, but I promise when I tell you that will hopefully change soon. I have been going through some changes that have been taking up much of my time and when I actually have time to write, I'm so drained the inspiration just vanishes. I'm trying to improve so I at least poop out more than a couple sentences a day.

For those of you who aren't familiar with me and are new, Hello! I am so happy you took the time to stop and check out my story!

So this is an idea I have been sitting on for awhile but I didn't actually start working on it until three days ago. *This first chapter is just a test to see how well you guys like it.*

If this gets enough reviews, I will post the next chapter soon.

To be completely honest, I cannot guarantee quick updates because this is just a small side project. If it gets enough love, I may update faster, but only time will tell.

I absolutely fell in love with Jake and hope that we see more of him because there are so many different ways he can be used.

To those who were reading my old Resident Evil story with Jake and Sherry, I hope you enjoy this just as much.

Enjoy!~

Chapter 1

'If I remember, this is probably on my list of things I hate to do', Trixie thought to herself as she stood awkwardly at the front of the classroom next to the teacher. Thirty plus students were staring at her-at least most of them were-as Mr. Kennedy explained that she was a new student transferring from some school in Washington and would be attending Raccoon High from now on. He was tall, looking slightly worn despite his young age as a teacher, his dark gold hair parted mostly to the right side of his face and stopped right at the end of his nose. His skin was tanned, giving Trixie the impression he had spent a good amount of time in the sun. His eyes were blue and his face needed shaving; then again the 5 o'clock shadow looked rather well on him. That was Trixie's personal opinion at least. He was decently dressed in a light blue button up shirt with a black vest and slacks. He seemed like the only decently dressed person in the room.

Looking at some of the students now, Trixie wasn't all that impressed by what she saw, and she had a nagging feeling that her new classmates were thinking the same thing about her. There was nothing impressive about her baggy hoodie and grey leggings but she knew that. She didn't like worrying about it.

When Mr. Kennedy asked her if she had anything she wanted to say to the class, Trixie politely shook her head no, and he kindly pointed out a desk next to the windows third one from the back. Not too close yet not too far.

She gave a small nod of thanks and began making her way to her new seat. Mr. Kennedy was already giving directions to start his lesson as Trixie neared the desk but right as she reached it she failed to see the foot of the young male sitting next to her suddenly move in her path.

Her arms flailed for a moment before she managed to absorb the fall with her elbows. The embarrassing sight was witnessed by the entire class and everyone immediately erupted into fits of giggling and laughter. Everyone except Mr. Kennedy.

"The hell," he exclaimed out loud as he moved towards Trixie's direction, but she simply pushed herself up onto her knees before crawling into her seat, her face beat red as she stared at the wooden surface, and he decided not to embarrass her further by approaching and merely asked loud enough for her to hear, "Are you okay kiddo?"

Trixie gave a weak nod, slouching in her chair, her hood hiding her face from most of her class and her bangs hanging over the right side of her face to keep anyone nearby from seeing the tears welling up in her eyes. To her luck, Mr. Kennedy didn't make any attempt to tell her to remove her hood, and for that she was internally grateful.

She didn't think she could stand it if her classmates saw she was crying.

Sighing, the teacher directed the student's attention back to the front of the classroom, deciding the only way he could help her right now was to take the spotlight she clearly did not want.

"Okay class, turn your books to Chapter 7, and lets continue from where we left off yesterday."

...

It was only third period and Trixie already wanted to leave.

Despite her embarrassing start in Algebra 2, her first class with Mr. Kennedy, she had caught on fairly quickly and even managed to finish her assignment before the others. Mr. Kennedy had been surprised but only for a moment before he merely whispered 'good work' and gave her a discrete wink and moved on to check on another student.

When class ended, she waited until everyone else filed out first before taking her leave, wishing her teacher a good day quietly as she passed him.

The hall had been chaos, people shoving past one another to get to their next class, but Trixie navigated just fine through the traffic while searching for her locker. The office aid had forgotten to show her that before taking her to her class. Once she had found it, she had barely been able to deposit her things inside before she was roughly shoved into the locker next to her, a a chorus of snickers and high fives telling her it had been on purpose, and when she turned to catch a glimpse of her offender she instantly recognized him as the same one who had tripped her in her first class.

'Jerk,' she thought bitterly as she pulled out the essentials she was going to need for her next class, French.

She hated French.

While it was a beautiful language, she had a hard time remembering all the different words and phrases, and couldn't seem to grasp them fully. What made it frustrating was that she would have preferred to take Spanish since that was what she had been learning at her last school, however since she had passed the requirements for that language this new school thought it would be a good idea to challenge her by giving her a different language to learn. It was a terrible idea. What senior had to learn a completely new language when they had already learned one previously? She did. And she hated the school for it.

Ironically, her teacher was a woman named Ada Wong. Why would someone with the last name Wong be teaching French? But it became clear quickly why Ms. Wong was the teacher when she made a point of speaking to Trixie in five different languages in a quick succession upon greeting her. One of the languages was clearly French, another she recognized as Russian, but the last three she did not recognize so she merely apologized quietly to her teacher before taking an open seat in the middle row right behind the first desk.

Ms. Wong was certainly a beauty; pale skin with dark smoldering eyes and a head of silky obsidian hair cut at her chin. Her lips were painted red and her outfit was a burgundy blouse with a black pencil skirt and strap heels. She was definitely a mix of Asian and something else but Trixie had no idea.

When it came time to introduce herself, Ms. Wong had wanted Trixie to greet the class in French, but she had been so nervous she accidentally greeted them in Spanish. The students laughed for only a moment before Ms. Wong silenced them with a raised brow as if daring them to continue. Ms. Wong thanked Trixie, allowing her to sit, and began the class.

It passed by uneventfully until nearing the end of the class when Ms. Wong had asked a student to volunteer lending their notes to Trixie for her to copy over night. A girl near the back offered but after Trixie had thanked her and happened to glance inside, she was met with a yellow piece of paper on the first page with the words 'GO FUCK YOURSELF NEWBY' written in big bold lettering, and it turned out to be a notebook on Biology not French.

What she had done to deserve that she would never know.

On the way out of class, Trixie had left the notebook on Ms. Wong's desk, muttering that she would just take her own notes out of the textbook, and left before the woman could say anything.

Her third class turned out to be her least favorite by far.

P.E.

Trixie wasn't athletic by any means; in fact she was very nonathletic. The only reason she was so skinny was because she ate small amounts and her metabolism burned through everything like a fire burning through paper. It frightened people sometimes, thinking that she was starving herself, but that wasn't the case at all. If only they knew.

'But they don't...'

Her teacher, going by the name Redfield if she remembered correctly, had allowed her to sit off to the side for the day since she didn't have P.E. clothes yet, but this small action immediately put her on the receiving end of some nasty glares from the females students being forced to participate in the class.

It was a track day, so everyone was running for the majority of the time, and once they completed running a certain distance they were allowed either keep walking on the track or take part in a small soccer game in a field next to the track. At one end of the track was a small set of bleachers that overlooked the entire area. Mr. Redfield had stood next to Trixie while she sat on the bleachers with his clipboard in her lap. He would give her a name and a time in which they completed the distance and she would right it down. He was a good head and a half taller than she was, his skin tanned and his face serious, but his voice was deep and friendly. His hair was an oak brown and seemed to be a tad longer than a buzz cut; long enough to run your fingers through yet too short to grip. His eyes were a warm brown that greeted Trixie with kindness when she had first entered the gym and his smile crooked when noticing how shy she was. He hadn't been bothered by her hood and seemed to understand just like Mr. Kennedy that she didn't like attention.

His Nike shirt seemed to barely fit and his sweats made him look much taller. Despite his broad and imposing stature, Trixie had felt more at ease with him than she had felt so far into her day just sitting next to him as his temporary assistant for the day...

Until a soccer ball had come flying across the field and had struck her on the left side of her face. She didn't cry out in surprise but the stinging pain had slowly turned to a burn as she leaned forward to cradle her face against her knees; however, the smack! of the ball hitting her and the shouts of the players going "ouch!" and "damn did you see that?" once again drew attention to her that she did not want.

Mr. Redfield's arm immediately moved to wrap around her shoulders, asking if she was alright as he tried to draw her from her knees to examine her face, but she stubbornly pulled away while shaking her head for him to stop so no one would see that she was crying for the second time that day.

A small crowd began to gather around her, a few murmurs of concern and worry were easily drowned out in her ears by the sound of others snickering and trying not to laugh.

Could the day get any worse?

Apparently, it had.

After Mr. Redfield shooed the students away, he removed his arm from her shoulders and came down to a crouch, peeking at her teary eyes through the curtain of thick hair, and the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile. "I'll look the other way if you wanna get lost in the school for the rest of the period," he'd offered her.

Trixie had never been more grateful to a teacher in her entire life.

And now she was standing in the girl's bathroom, her hands braced on one of the white sinks as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, and couldn't help but flinch at the sight of her face. The soccer ball didn't leave an imprint on her skin-thank god-but it was extremely red and still stung if she touched it. Her baby blue eyes were red and shining with unshed tears, her button nose was runny, and her lips pressed into a firm line as she tried to keep them from trembling. Her raven hair fell around her like a curtain, the tips brushing the tops of her hands as she bowed her head to take a shaky breath.

This was why she didn't want to move.

This was why she didn't want to start over.

She wasn't good at things like this. She wasn't good at socializing and making new friends. Her old friends hadn't even tried to call her yet and ask how she was settling in her home and school.

Then again it was probably better they didn't. Her response wouldn't be a positive one.

Sniffling, Trixie turned on the sink and began to gently splash water on her face, the cold soothing her aching cheek from the soccer ball. Her hair fell in the sink, the ends becoming wet as she focused on breathing slowly to help calm herself. As much as she wanted to vow to keep from crying for the rest of the day she knew it was likely to happen again but then again maybe she would get lucky.

'Yeah right.'

Right as she reached for a paper towel to dry her face off, the door to the girls bathroom opened and she glanced to her right to see three students walk in; two brunettes and a blonde, all of them wearing mini skirts with tank tops and sandals, and their faces caked with makeup.

'Typical,' she thought to herself.

The three girls took notice of her presence the second she looked away, staring only at her reflection as she gathered her hair into her hands in attempt to pull it back into a low bun out of her face, but slowed when she saw the three girls walking behind her in the mirror. They were all staring at the left side of her face where she had been hit and one of them not so quietly whispered, "Did she run into a wall or something?"

One of them giggled at the thought and Trixie forced herself to look away, the bun idea completely forgotten as she released her hair to rest over her shoulder. What was the point of pulling her hair back if people were just going to stare and laugh?

One of the three actually used the toilet while the other two stood and waited, whispering back and forth to each other in hushed tones so she couldn't hear, and every few seconds one of them would look at her.

While Trixie wanted to leave, she didn't really have anywhere else to go since she wasn't really familiar with the grounds yet, and she couldn't going exploring during class time without the risk of getting caught by a teacher. She was stuck.

The sound of the toilet flushing echoed and the girl exited the stall, her blonde hair swaying in large curls, and she flipped it behind her shoulder as she stepped up to wash her hands in the sink. Trixie remained standing awkwardly at her own sink, her gaze staring at her outfit in the mirror and wondering if the baggy hoodie was really a smart idea.

"You know, you should probably cover that up," Trixie turned to the smirking blonde who was now leaning against the sink. "I mean, I can't imagine that you want to go back out there looking like that do you?"

Trixie made sure to keep her breath steady as she replied, "I don't like wearing makeup."

The girl looked as if she wanted to laugh-no surprise there-but whatever she was going to say was cut off by the sound of the door slamming open, making Trixie nearly jump out of her skin as she whirled around to find another girl standing in the doorway.

Taller than the other three girls and Trixie included, the young woman's hazel eyes narrowed as she looked between them, her gaze pausing only for a moment on Trixie's face before landing on the other three. Seems she had come to some conclusion in her mind and crossed her arms in an intimidating manner.

"Am I interrupting something?" She asked them.

Before Trixie could answer, the blonde responded with a fake smile plastered on her face, "Not at all Helena. We were just getting to know the new girl."

News traveled fast. Trixie was almost positive she didn't have this girl or either of her lackeys in any of her classes so far and she hoped that it remained that way for the rest of them.

Helena raised a brow, clearly not believing the words coming out of the other girl's mouth. When she looked at Trixie for confirmation, the shorter girl hoped her expression conveyed 'absolute bullshit', and held her breath when Helena turned back to the other three.

"Hm, doesn't seem like she has any interest in getting to know you," she commented while coming to stand slightly behind Trixie. "Now get lost Stacy-before I report you to security."

Stacy bristled at Helena's threat, rage flashing for only a moment before it was gone, and she signaled for her friends to follow. "Let's go."

The three left, walking away as if the confrontation hadn't happened in the first place, but Trixie could clearly see their imaginary tails curled between their legs and waited until the clicking of their heels was out of earshot.

Trixie released the breath she was holding and sagged against the sink, rubbing her eyes before tucking her hair behind her ears; however her bangs stubbornly remained draped over her eye.

She could see Helena looking her over from the corner of her eye but choose against starting a conversation with her said defender to avoid the possibility of receiving a verbal lashing for her lack of action.

Don't let them get to you.

You should stand up for yourself more.

'Easier said than done for some people.'

She turned around, clearly her throat awkwardly as she turned the water back on and began to slowly wash her hands, and hoped that it was clear she wasn't up for talking. But Helena didn't move. She remained stationary two feet away, watching Trixie with calculating eyes and crossed arms. 'Must be a familiar pose,' Trixie thought to herself as she caught Helena's piercing gaze in the mirror. Helena was a good half foot taller than she was, her mocha hair parted down the middle of her head and falling around her shoulders in soft waves. Her outfit consisted of a brick red vest over a white, short sleeved shirt and leather boots peaking out from the bottoms of her jeans.

"Rough first day?"

Trixie scoffed. "You have no idea."

Helena shrugged, moving to lean back against the wall. "We all have those every now and then."

Trixie reached over and grabbed some paper towels, drying her hands slowly. "Ever been tripped by an asshole in front of your entire class before?"

Helena hummed, her eyes moving up to stare at the ceiling as she gave another shrug, and answered, "Never had that happen, no."

Sighing, Trixie mumbled, "Thought so."

Throwing the paper towels in the trash, Trixie pulled her phone out of her back pocket, the phone showing the time, and she groaned when she realized she still had ten minutes before the next bell. Was it too much to ask for time just to speed up a tiny bit? Just so she could go home?

"If you go to the nurse's office, she'll lend you an ice pack until next period," Helena informed her, turning to leave and pulling the door half open before pausing to add, "know how to get there?"

Embarrassed, Trixie gave a small head shake 'no'.

Smirking, Helena pulled the door the rest of the way open, and pointed down the hall. "Go down this way and take a right at the end. Keep going until you see the main office and it will be to the left. Her door is always open to students."

Not able to think of anything better to do, Trixie decided the nurse's office didn't sound like a bad idea. She thanked Helena in a soft voice before moving to leave, the taller female politely holding the door open for her.

Her shoes squeaked on the shiny floors every other step, the tiny sound echoing down the halls as she repeated Helena's directions in her head. As she made it to the end of the hallway and went to turn right, she happened to glance behind her, and saw Helena still standing at the door of the girl's bathroom. Her expression was curious but a second later she turned and walked the other way.

...

Falling into a nest of pillows and fluffy blankets had never felt so wonderful.

Her backpack was forgotten by her door and she moaned in relief as she twisted and tangled herself into her comforter. She kicked her boots off before curling into a ball, her nose barely peeking out from beneath a small blanket covered in soft cinnamon brown faux fur, and she wiggled for a moment as she reached for her phone in her back pocket.

She had a message from Darren, her adoptive father, and she became filled with disappointment as she read his message that he wouldn't be home until late so she was to go ahead and fix dinner for herself and her brother Adrian.

The idea of cooking didn't sound appealing but since Adrian was still in school for a few hours, she would worry about it later.

After Trixie had found the nurse's office, who turned out to be the kindest person she had met the entire day, and finally began sobbing after the woman had given her an ice pack for her face and asked what had happened. She was very petite-almost Trixie's size-with big, round eyes in a pretty shade of green and coffee colored hair cut so short it barely brushed her ears. The nurse, Rebecca Chambers, had waited until Trixie had managed to calm down, gave her a warm smile, and a pass to be excused for the rest of the day.

Students had been in the cafeteria for lunch so no one noticed her walking out the front entrance in a desperate rush to get to the comfort of her home.

She certainly hoped no one saw how she had bumped into another student who had been pulling open the door the same second her hand closed around the handle on the other side, causing her to fall forward straight into a firm chest, her backpack sliding off her shoulder and falling open, the contents spilling out over the concrete steps and she could remember an arm wrapping around her waist to keep her from falling as well.

She had immediately rushed to apologize but only made it half way through the sentence when she met the face of her catcher.

His eyes were a steel blue, staring straight into hers, his face set into what appeared to be a frown but had turned to one of amusement when her cheeks flushed red as a cherry. He was a good head taller than she was, meaning he would have to lean down a bit to be at eye level with her. His red hair was cut to a short buzz, making it appear more brown that red in the shade. His facial features were strong and defined, making him seem naturally intimidating to anyone passing by. His most noticeable feature was the diagonal scar starting a few centimeters beneath his left eye and ending near his jawline.

If anyone had asked Trixie what her type was, she would admit in a whisper-with a face as red as an apple-that he was it.

The momentary trance ended when the fluttering of papers snapped her attention away from his face and she looked down the steps to see that some loose papers were floating further away from them towards the parking lot. She frantically removed herself from his arm and quickly ran down the steps, chasing down the loose papers first before they got too far. When she had managed to catch them all, she had turned back to the steps and found that the stranger had already gathered the papers closest to her backpack, and had messily shoved them back into her bag. Her face still red with embarrassment, Trixie had murmured a 'thank you' to him before taking her bag from his gloved hand, his bare fingers brushing hers for a split second, and she pulled away.

He had been wearing a tank top with a cropped neck shirt, the sleeves cut off so his bare shoulders were peeking out from beneath his faded black, high collared jacket with navy cargo pants shoved into his laced-up boots. Around his neck was a silver chain adorned with a stainless steel ring; the glint bouncing off the metal object when he shifted to lean on the opposite foot.

The word 'attractive' couldn't even begin to describe what Trixie had been thinking on that moment.

Not sure what else to say, she had stood there awkwardly for a moment, staring back and forth between her shoes and his boots. She had felt him staring at her but whatever interest he had quickly faded and he walked inside.

After that, Trixie had rushed home, taking the same bus she had used to get to school earlier that morning.

Even now, in the safety of home, Trixie could still see his blue eyes and smug expression whenever she squeezed her eyes shut, and pressed her face into the blanket as if to push the memory from her mind.

'God he must have thought I was such a klutz,' she thought to herself.

It was like her though to do something so embarrassing; she was known for her ill-timed jokes and convenient clumsy moments.

Her father and friends thought it was an adorable quality to have but she didn't really think so.

Exhaustion from the day began to descend upon her and she set a timer on her phone so she would awaken a half hour before Adrian got home. She didn't plan on telling anyone that she had left school early on her first day. She'd had enough harassment for one day.

Setting her phone on the headboard above her, next to her alarm clock, Trixie curled further into the blankets, and slowly slipped into a state of semi-unconsciousness.

Tomorrow will be better...it has to be...

...

Aaaaand there's the firs chapter folks!

I know some people have probably already posted some high school themed stories but I wanted to try it out for myself and-I gotta say-it came out better than I thought it did after working on it for three days.

Please tell me if you liked it and want more! Reviews give me motivation to write so tell me what your favorite part was and if you like where things are headed so far!

Favorite, Follow, and Review! Have a wonderful week!

~CoolCat0720

(p.s. it is literally midnight where I am and I'm so exhausted but I just had to get this out here LOL XD)