A/N: Shout out to Lavender Hope for being the first to review. Here's a new chapter.

Jeff smiled as he came up with a brilliant idea to meat this girl that made the surely Laughing Jack smile like an idiot. "Jill, what was the name of the girls school?"

She just face palmed but told him any ways. There was no point in trying to hide it because he could get the information from Ben. That's how she found out so much in the first place.

Xiamara was in Culinary listening to Chef drone on about what they were going to make when there was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal a boy in a white hoodie, black dress pants and black shoes. The hood was pulled up over his head, hiding everything but his ash black hair. Chef looked over and the boy handed him a piece of paper for him to look over. "Apparently we have a new student joining this class. Go on and tell us your name, what you did over the summer and what your favorite food is."

The boy shifted a little before clearing his throat. "I'm Jeff Woods. I just killed time this summer and I don't really have a food preference," he said in a low voice.

Chef nodded. "Okay Jeff. Take off the hood and you can join Xiamara."

Xiamara huffed before returning her attention to the new boy. There was a slight hesitation as he lifted his hands to his hood and slowly pulled it down. She gasped as she took in his appearance. It looked like his face had been bleached white. and the scars. The cut smile that looked like it had been done repeatedly and recently. And as she continued to stare, she noticed his eye lids, or rather, lack of eye lids. They had been seared off, rendering him unable to blink.

Jeff looked at the female LJ had chosen. As he watched her take in his face he saw that, unlike everyone else in the room, there was disgust or pity or fear. There was a wondering look that almost screamed the question 'what happened to you'. He noticed how her eyes wandered all over his face in question as she was rendered silent by the beauty of his face.

The teacher finished going over what they were making and then released them to their stations. Xiamara approached him and leaned up against the wall beside him. "Names Xiamara but I prefer Z or Xia, never Mara or I'll jack slap you."

"Jack slap?" Jeff asked, confused.

She smirked at that. "Slap you so hard you don't know jack. I.e. jack slap."

He chuckled at that before following her to their station. This was the first time since his "accident" that anyone not a Pasta has talked to him without fear or disgust evident in their voice. He watched as she carefully pulled up the sleeves of her jacket so that they won't get ruined and washed her hands. Right as she was about to start cutting some of the ingredients Chef passed their area. "Xiamara, take the coat off while cooking." He then moved over to another group to see how they were doing. She sighed as she set the knife down and slipped the jacket off her arms so that it landed neatly onto a chair.

Jeff sucked his breath in as he noticed the scars up and down her forearms. There were twelve scars, six on each arm, that were more prominent than the rest. When Jill had said she had multiple suicide attempts he had thought two or three, not six. Why wasn't she in a mental institute. 'Like you have any room to talk' he thought to himself. As she passed him to try and go back to the assignment he grabbed her wrist gently and traced the scars with his finger. "What happened?" he asked out loud without thinking.

"I got attacked by a wild animal, what do you think happened," she said, her voice thick with sarcasm. With that she yanked her wrist away and returned to her cutting bored. She grabbed the chicken for the chicken alfredo and started slicing it. Sighing, Jeff walked over to the small rack of spices and seasonings and grabbed the ingredients needed for the food. No wonder she tensed when the teach told her to remove her jacket before she started to cook.

They spent the rest of the time cooking until the bell for lunch rang at eleven forty. Xiamara grabbed her portion of the finished food and went to a deserted corner of the cooking lab, slipping back on her jacket. Jeff questioned the level of stupidity it would be to try and speak to the recluse teenage girl before going over to her anyways. "Sorry," he said quietly, not sure why he did so.

"'Bout what?" she asked, annoyed that she was being bothered.

"About bringing up bad memories," he said softly as he thought back to how his transformation occurred.

Xiamara scoffed at that as she slammed her fork into a piece of chicken. "I would say like you have a clue but I can see you do," she said gesturing to his scarred face. Jeff was silent for a minute as he watched her eat. Laughing Jack was right, she is different. For once he didn't feel the need to kill anyone. She looked up at him with a glare. "What?"

"Just wondering what would lead someone like you to that," he said gesturing towards her scarred wrists.

"Bullies, lies, rumors, panic, alcoholic family members, father on the police force," she said in an nonchalant voice as if she was simply discussing the weather. "Take your pick." She then looked down at the binder he bought for his little excursion and laughed as she read his schedule. "Apparently you have all but sixth with me, how hilarious."

Jeff chuckled as he remembered telling Ben to enroll him into her classes. He had asked if he knew how to play an instrument and when he said no Ben had chosen to stick him into a PE class to get him back for the time when he had "accidentally" tossed him out of the third floor window of Slender Mansion. Plus she already had seventh off so that was a plus to her being a senior and him being seventeen.

Xiamara entered her home to see Laughing Jack sitting on her couch, drinking one of her coca colas. "Boy you're lucky I wasn't my father. He's known to shoot first, ask questions never and let God sort it out."

Jack laughed as he followed the girl up to her room. He had took it upon himself to follow Jill's advice and did some research on her family's schedule to see when they get home, which wasn't until late most nights and sometimes not even until the early morning hours. He also learned that while he was younger her father had won the lottery and invested it wisely, so they now had a nice small manor along with five cars and three motorcycles.

Xiamara noticed that there was something off about Jack, she just couldn't tell what it was. She dropped her bag on the floor next to her walk-in closet and then plopped down onto her bed as exhaustion took over. She didn't feel like doing much and was glad that her father had bought her a chrome red convertible mustang so she wouldn't have to wait during seventh for the bus.

She was lost in thought until she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to so LJ with a confused look on his face. "You okay?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Yeah, just tired," she said as she recalled what happened during fifth.

After we had received the assignment for that day Jeff had asked why she didn't look at him with disgust or pity. "We all have scars, Jeff. Both physical and mental. If people can't accept them on other's or themselves than life will be lonely and sad." She sighed and rolled back over so she was facing her poster of Black Veil Brides. She really didn't feel like talking about it but the monochrome clown kept poking at her shoulder to see if she would elaborate. "No offense but I would really like to be left alone Jack."

Laughing Jack sighed and got up to leave until something sticking out from under the bed caught his attention. Curiosity getting the better of him, he pulled it out and saw that it was a sketchbook. He sat down on the ground and started flipping through it. He saw various pictures of a fallen angel that looked liked Xiamara but had iridescent purple eyes that seemed to glow instead of the vibrant hazel-green that had tormented his dreams the precious night. In a few of the pictures were a demon who's face was shrouded in darkness. The drawings looked so realistic, like they could walk off the page at any second. And when the angel and demon were in the same drawing they were locked in battle with hatred evident in the angel's eyes.

Once he neared the end of the sketchbook the second to last picture really caught his attention. There was the angel and demon like all the other pictures in the sketchbook, but it also had HIM. The angel was passed out behind him, wings and other appendages bent at awkward angles, her hand softly grasping a pocket knife. He was bloodied but still held a bronze short sword that had something engraved into the blade, like he was protecting the her from any more harm. The demon stood on the other side of the clearing, which he assumed to be a meadow, his head thrown back as if in triumph with his own reddish wings spread out as if he was about to take flight. In the back ground was the remainder of the battle torn meadow with a forest in the background. High above the scene was the full moon which held a reddish tint to it as if it was bleeding.

He flipped the page to the final picture in the book and dropped the sketchbook into his lap. The setting had stayed the same but the demon was gone and he was now holding the angel as tears fell from his long dead, cold eyes.