Great. Ran out of ideas. Can someone please help me? (sweats nervously)

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS; I ONLY OWN THE PLOT OF THIS FANFIC AND ITS ORIGINAL CHARACTERS. And THANKS to all the reviewers. Oh, and by the way… I've drawn a picture of human Jazz and it's in my homepage. If interested, please check it out.

Now, on with the story.

I took out the books I needed for the next period, which was mathematics. As I closed the locker door, yesterday's memories floated back to me. Jazz. I could still remember his arms around me, his cool voice asking me if I was okay. I had no idea what he might look like, but perhaps because he was my Lost Half, he oddly felt very familiar and comfortable. His scent, too, was refreshing and mysterious, but not unpleasant at all. How should I describe it? I had never felt anything like this before. So this was what it's like to be in love, just like Mother told me… you knew straight away.

"Lizzy!" At a sudden shout from Mikaela and a light smack on my shoulder, I broke out of my remembrance immediately. Hasn't my face turned red or something? Oh dear, if anyone found out what I was thinking… I was about to die with embarrassment even though no one could have possibly had clairvoyance to see through my mind.

"Are you okay? Why are you so red and flustered?"

"Oh, nothing," I smiled, "How are you?"

"Me? Well, I'm fine, Lizzy, but I think you should rather take care of yourself better," without another word, and before I could say anything, Mikaela grabbed my arm and pulled me into… a corner? Yes, a corner. Then she started to whisper to me.

"See that guy with blond hair and in white tank?" asked Mikaela,

"See who?" I returned the question,

"Oh… sorry," she clicked her tongue, "I mean, right now Lizzy, you might be in danger,"

"Danger? What?"

"There's a boy named Trent, and he's a real jerk, he thinks he owns half of the world. Yeah, sure, he's quite popular and good-looking, but I don't recommend socializing with him. And besides, he seems to be interested in you."

"That's nice of him," I commented without thinking,

"NICE?! Oh my God- Lizzy! Get real! This is America, for God's sake!" she shook me a little, "Look, just trust me: if Trent tries to take you out or something, just ignore him. 'kay?"

"Er… alright. But why…?"

"Please, just… listen and trust me. He's an asshole." Mikaela gripped me tight again, as if giving me a warning and making sure that I trusted her. I nodded sheepishly. Mikaela let go of me, patted me on the back, then walked off. I was confused, but nonetheless, returned to my classroom. I knew it was almost time for the mathematics to start. After all, time and tide waits for no woman; even if she's blind.

The mathematics was the last period, and I packed my bag to go home. As I was just fastening the buckle of my schoolbag, something thudded onto my desk. What was that? I fumbled on the desk to find out what it was. It was a… schoolbag, except that unlike mine, it was quite heavy and crammed with something.

"Um… hello? Is someone there?" I asked, suddenly feeling stupid.

Instead of an answer, there was unanimous snickering from the front. They were boys, at least three or four in number, judging by the voices. I tensed. What would they want from me?

"You know, for someone who's blind, you're pretty hot," a hand suddenly grabbed my chin, holding it up to see my face better. I managed to remove the hand from my face. Whoever this boy was, he was being very rude and disgusting. I frowned.

"Who are you?" I asked,

"My name's Trent," I gasped, remembering Mikaela's warning, "and I like hot girls," another snigger.

"And are you saying that I'm… 'hot'?"

"Yeah,"

"I accept that as a compliment, thank you," I said sarcastically, but these immature boys just laughed harder. It made me angry; I could be quite fierce when I wanted to be!

"Did you hear what she just said? 'I accept that as a compliment, thank you'," Trent imitated me, and I thought the boys would die from laughing too hard and bust their internal organs. I didn't find any of this funny, so I only frowned still.

Ignoring them, I swung the schoolbag onto my shoulder and tried to walk past them, but they were blocking my path. I tightened my grip on the walking stick. It could be used as an effective weapon against any attackers or offensive people.

"Would you mind stepping aside so I could go?" I asked, now a thorn of sarcasm embedded in my speeches,

"Nope, I do mind, you know," said Trent as he suddenly grabbed my arm. I tried to shake free and shout for help, but even if there were any people in here, no one seemed be too keen to help me; I could hear nervous footsteps scattering across the classroom, hurrying outside. I bit my lips.

"Let me go!"

"What're you gonna do? Bite me?" laughed Trent, "Go ahead, handicap. Let's see what you've got,"

Someone smacked my bottom. Crying out in surprise and bewilderment, I instinctively brandished the walking stick. I could feel the shock as it made very effective contacts with fleshes and limbs. There were screams from them, and curses. Taking the chance, I pushed past the nearest boy and ran, only to be grabbed once more.

"Let go!" I tried to shake off the hand, while running out of the classroom. Instead of being freed, I was banged against the wall. There were clamors around the corridor, and as I struggled to remain upright, another hand punched me just under the collarbone. It knocked the breath out of me.

"You bitch," a boy swore, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling it. I could feel tears brimming in my eyes, and I managed to scream for help. No one came. Everybody was whispering and talking to each other about me and the bullies, but they seemed to be too afraid to take any action, fearful of this boy named Trent. Mikaela was right! He was… an asshole!

"Help! Someone help, please-" My calls were silenced by another blow to my stomach. I collapsed, coughing and choking. It was shameful enough for a big girl like me to be crying in front of everyone watching, but it was worse when a group of boys were taunting me and bullying me at the same time. And no one came for help. Why won't anyone help me? Why?

"Now you're gonna pay for hitting my friends," Trent growled at my face, "and for hitting me,"

I shut my eyes, although I couldn't see anything even when they were open. I hated him!

I waited for the blow, but it didn't come. Instead, I could hear surprised cries and loud commotions. What was going on?

"What the-"

The shouts were from the bullies. Everyone in the corridor was talking at the same time, buzzing with excitement, surprise, and anxiety. I could hear feet stepping backward, faltering and stumbling. Was a teacher here? Was that why they sounded so terrified, so thrown off their balance?

"Who- who the hell are you?" Trent stuttered, which didn't surprise me; after all, he was probably standing all by himself now, and that type of boys usually weren't very courageous when they were alone.

No one spoke for some time. Only silent murmurs and whispers could be heard. And Trent's nervous gulping and breathing. I was just sitting on the floor, confused.

"Leave her alone," said a voice. It was so calm and cool, yet it contained unfathomable depth of anger and rage. No wonder Trent gulped. Even I was a little taken aback by the voice.

"Wh- Who the hell are you to say that?" Trent's final, desperate try for the control of this situation.

"Are you deaf?" now the voice was edgy, "I said, leave her alone."

Trent stumbled backward, and he shouted something I couldn't make out, but I presumed it was a curse towards his banisher. He ran, and as soon as he departed, the corridor almost exploded with a noise, chatters and amazed shouts all mixed up together. What was-

"You alright?" two light hands gripped my arms, helping me stand up.

"- Jazz?" I couldn't believe- but how-

"Came here to pick up a few friends of mine, but there seemed to be a situation here," he said, "so I decided to check it out. And I saw you and those slags. That's how it happened."

"Oh…" it took some time for my brain to process and understand everything that had happened: I was a victim of bullying by Trent and his gang, but Jazz, who was passing by, saw this and helped me out. Okay, I understood. I nodded.

"Thank you,"

"You're always in trouble whenever I see you, aren't you?" I blushed. He chuckled slightly, which probably made my face more scarlet. He had to be my Lost Half; otherwise, how could he be there whenever there was an incident? It strengthened my belief.

"You're not seriously hurt," he muttered, "but maybe you should-"

"LIZZY!" someone shouted, pulled me out of Jazz's grab quite abruptly and hug me very tightly. I gasped. But from this person's scent, I realized I was being hugged by Mikaela. Sam's ragged breathing could also be heard.

"Oh, hi, Mikaela," I choked out, "and hi to you too, Sam."

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, actually. I didn't get beaten so badly."

Mikaela still hadn't let me go; Jazz cleared his throat, and presumably tapped her on the shoulder, saying 'Er, Mikaela, you're hurting her'. Mikaela suddenly let me go, embarrassedly murmuring she was sorry. I smiled, despite the previous situation.

"I told you- Trent, that- bastard!" Mikaela spat out the words, so angry she didn't know what to say.

"Yes, I see what you mean now. He WAS an asshole," I said, and Mikaela laughed a bit.

"She's bruised, Mikaela. Maybe you should take care of her," said Jazz,

"Huh? Do you know each other?" I asked. Maybe they were the 'friends' that Jazz was supposed to pick up?

"Yeah," said Mikaela, "Jazz is a… friend of ours. Do you guys know each other?"

"Yes; we've met before, actually," I explained simply, and summarized quickly what had happened at the crosswalk and how I had encountered Jazz.

"Ah… I see," said Mikaela. Sam let out an approving sound.

"Thank you, Jazz, for saving me again," I said,

"No big deal. You should watch out more carefully, you know," he commented, "there're a lot of guys who'd love to get their hands on a pretty girl like you,"

I felt numb for a moment, but could feel my face… no, my whole head flaring deep red. Pretty? Me? I couldn't believe what I had just heard; he had complimented me!

"Ugh… Lizzy, your chest is bruised," said Mikaela, lightly touching just under my collarbone, "and so is your leg. What a mess that jerk Trent has made. Can you walk?"

I tried, but I was surprised when I couldn't walk properly without feeling an immense pain in my right leg; probably the ankle was sprained. I groaned from frustration.

"You can't walk in this state," said Sam, and Mikaela agreed.

"Then what should I do?" I asked, but Jazz, at that moment, stepped in.

"I'll drive you home, if it's alright with you," he said, "I was going to drop Sam and Mikaela home anyway,"

Mikaela let out a little squeak, and Sam was suddenly quiet. Mikaela said, "Excuse us a moment, will you?" and the three walked away, enough distances away from me so I couldn't hear. I stood there for a moment, feeling awkward. What were they talking about? After a few abrupt, opposing shouts from Mikaela, and Sam's arguments, they came back to me.

"Lizzy, Jazz's offered you a lift. What d'you say?" asked Mikaela,

"Oh… I… have a car waiting for me…"

"Call the chauffeur and tell him that someone else's dropping you home," said Jazz, although not in an ordering manner, but strong and firm nevertheless, "It's on my way anyway."

I considered for a moment. I didn't want to cause Sam and Mikaela and Jazz too much inconvenience, but then again… a chance to be with Jazz wouldn't come as easily. I rebuked myself for being selfish and immature, but I couldn't help it. I nodded.

"That's settled then," said Sam, and Mikaela took my hand to lead me. So together, we walked out of the school, leaving a heap of confusion and subject for people to gossip about.

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