I forgot to mention that unfortunately I do not own any of the characters except Jessica and her parents, and a few friends I made up!! Unfortunately Tim belongs to someone else!!!

R & R please!!!

Jessica jumped away from him the minute she was in full view of the class. She hated being stared at, even though for a while she'd really loved being next to Tim, despite the fact everyone was staring. But now, she jerked forward and hurried over to the desk so the teacher could add her to his register.

Tim smiled slightly at her obvious feminine retreat and sauntered to the back, flopping gracefully into his seat. As the teacher signed her slip, he noticed that her eyes jumped around the room, on each face, more often than not, straying to his and lingering.

She looked scared, but her shoulders were thrown back in an effort to portray confidence. He only saw past it because he'd seen her terrified at the thought of a fight.

Deep down, she was vulnerable.

Jessica took a deep breath and faced the class, looking for a friendly face, a smile, something. The only available seat was at the back, and with her head down, no smiles were present, she tripped her way over bags to reach the empty desk.

Oh god, she thought, I have to sit next to him, and I'm never going to survive if he smiles at me again. But still she sat beside him, feigning nonchalance, pulled out her notebook and tried to concentrate on the teacher. It was Shakespeare and she'd already covered the topic. Whilst she wondered whether it would be okay to use her old essays for the assignment, her hand doodled funny little symbols on the corner of the page. Soon, her mind needed something else to muddle over, so it turned to her sexy neighbour. Tim presented her with a dilemma.

He was hot, kind and obviously popular.

She liked him. That never worked out well for her. Boys had never seen her as more than a friend and if she developed any kind of emotional attachment, more often than not, she got her heart ripped to shreds. But she'd sensed when Tyra had stood threateningly in front of them, that he was a fighter. He knew firsthand that if you didn't learn to fight back, you were dead. She could sympathise. Hell, she knew exactly how he felt. He had this bad boy, tough guy act down perfectly. She also knew something he didn't even realise himself.

Deep down, he was vulnerable.

Tim dismissed the teacher and Shakespeare, instead focusing on the long line of Jessica Westbrook's neck. The smooth, pale skin flowed down over her shoulders, her collarbone, down to a more than ample chest. That was as far as he could see. The top she wore was a peasant blouse type of thing, in a deep red that brought out highlights in her mahogany hair and set her porcelain skin off to perfection. It also had a deep, scooped neckline, which revealed the gentle swell of her breasts and a good deal of cleavage. Each time she shifted in her chair, they jiggled a little in the Wench's Bra and his eyes fixed to that spot over and over.

He was obsessed.

Dragging his gaze from her chest, he looked at her face. It was round, with a slightly protruding chin, a straight nose and those big, sapphire eyes of hers that had first captured his attention. Her cheeks were a rosy pink with a natural blush. She had a sheer powder foundation on, he guessed, since she wasn't tanned or orange and had no streaks that he could see. Her eyes were lined with black eyeliner and her lashes were, maybe, emphasised with mascara but still long and ebony. Her light make up just accentuated her features.

Her head turned towards him and he snapped his eyes back down to his work, pretending to write. He saw her frown, but then she put her hand up to answer a question and didn't look at him again. Perplexed by his attraction to her and the weird possessive streak he had going for her, he dropped his head to the table and plugged his earphones in.

Jessica wasn't really concentrating, but she'd answered all her questions correctly and finished her work in record time. The bell was about to go, she could tell, her classmates were getting excited, and she sat back and just watched everybody else scribbling away furiously in order to finish and not earn themselves a detention.

Her eyes strayed, as they usually did when she was bored, to the guy next to her. He had his head down on the table, eyes closed, perfect lips mouthing along to whatever song he was listening to. His foot tapped in time to the beat and a slight smile played along his lips. His bandaged arm was stretched out along the far edge of the desk, his other beneath his head. He looked adorable…….and so hot she could barely breathe.

Thankfully, the bell sounded out long and loud, and she covered her breathlessness with the busy motions that enabled her to bundle her things into her bag without dropping them. Then she stood, along with everyone else, and quickly exited.

She didn't look back.