Thanks to Samuel, Damian wound up making it to his first couple classes all right. The boy had drawn out a rough sketch of the campus, circling his classrooms as well as pointing out key areas such as the cafeteria.

The teachers didn't pay him much attention. Only his third period teacher bothered to give him a somewhat reassuring smile. Thankfully, this meant they didn't give him any trouble. No awkward introductions, no being put on the spot like in TV shows. That was just fine with him. He didn't want any added attention. As it was, he was already getting a whole lot from his fellow classmates. But what else could he have expected? It was a month into school and everyone else had settled in. New faces were known.

All but his.

He did, however, manage to find a couple friendly faces. First period he sat next to a short little guy named Matheus who was the only one who bothered striking up a conversation. In third, a pretty girl named Marissa sat behind him and offered to help him catch up (math really wasn't his strong point). All in all, things were going okay.

And then came lunch.

Damian could tell, from the map, the general direction of the cafeteria. Sadly, he didn't make it that far.

He had stayed behind to talk to his teacher about making up old work, so when he left the classroom few students remained in the hallway outside. There was, however, one group a few classes over that seemed to be standing around a locker. He didn't think much of it at first, but then, as he got closer, he took another look.

The group was mostly comprised of three big, tough-looking jocks (he could tell from their school jackets). There were, however, two others: Matheus, the short boy from his first period; and a taller boy whom he hadn't seen before. They seemed to be in the middle of some sort of disagreement, and the two smaller boys were obviously cornered. Obviously out-numbered, and definitely out-muscled. The taller boy, however, didn't seem to be backing down any time soon.

It was then that Damian realized he had two options: one, just walk by, ignore the group, and enjoy the rest of the day in relative peace, or two...

Damnit.

"Hey," he called, approaching the boys, "something wrong here?" He couldn't quite tell if the looks of surprise had more to do with his accent or the fact that he was now doing something that was surely just as foolish as he realized it to be. But, as he noticed the spark of recognition in Matheus' eyes, he knew he couldn't back down now.

After recovering, the closest of the jocks turned to face him. Damian couldn't help but notice, now that he was closer up, the obvious height-difference. Not to mention the threatening glare.

"I'd keep out of it if I were you, freak. Walk away now and stay invisible if you know what's good for you."

"Yeah? An' what if I don't?"

The larger boy smirked, taking a step closer, and Damian had to force himself to fight back the impulse to run.

"We were just teaching our little buddy here a lesson, but everyone seems to be butting in today. Don't worry, though: that just makes you first on our list."

With that, the jock grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the closest locker. Ouch. As if he needed the headache today of all days. His eyes were closed most of the way, but open enough to notice some sudden movement to his left. Then, just like that, the jock was being pushed off of him. He opened his eyes the rest of the way in time to see that same jock turning angrily, fist raised, towards the other boy, the one with glasses, who was now being restrained by the other two jocks. What the hell? As the intimidating boy began to swing his fist around, Damian found himself latching onto that same arm, effectively stopping him. This, however, led him to being slammed once more against the locker. As if once wasn't enough. His ears were ringing from the impact, his bag on the floor, long forgotten.

"Hey! What's going on here?"

Damian heard several of the boys curse under their breath, and then they were gone, around the corner and out of sight. Hearing more footsteps fast approaching, he turned towards the source and felt his heart sink.

A teacher. Well, that's just swell.

*End flashback*

So here he was, mere hours after arriving in Lima, sitting in the principles office, waiting for the man - Mr. Figgins? - to show up and tell them their fate.

Turns out the teacher that had found them was the new football coach, a rather intimidating man. The type you could tell was a jock back when they were in highschool. He claimed not to have seen the jocks before they took off, but Damian highly doubted that. Right. Instead, he and the boy with the glasses would get in trouble for a fight neither of them started. At least Matheus had gotten off all right - he was just sent to the nurse's office to fix up his busted lip.

And so that left him in this empty office with a boy he still didn't know the name of. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to ask. He couldn't even bring himself to look up. It wasn't as if he blamed the boy - if anything he had reason to thank him - he was just back to sulking. Could you blame him? A long night spent on a flight he never wanted to take to a town he never wanted to see, and now this.

Could today get any worse?

I know this is short, but the next will be longer (chapter lengths will not be consistent). I promised I wouldn't post until I got my first comment, but I feel lke I'm more likely to get people interested if I get a bit farther into it.

I'll warn you: I'm taking the Dameron thing slow. Very slow. You see, it's the process I enjoy, much more than the result. I hate it when things are rushed. :P

But don't worry, there's gonna be a LOT more to the story than just Dameron. So if you're interested, please comment/add to story alert, and I promise you more. ^_^