Why, hello, people! I spent most of my time in church writing down ideas for this chapter, so I hope it turns out okay. (And there'll be a little bit of action in this chapter–just for you, ponyisgoldxxx–and more interaction with the guys!)

Ponygurl9: Thank you for your encouragement! It's reviewers like you that keep me going!

TrunksGRL13: Thanks for the compliment. I'm glad you're getting into it–I am too!

AngryPrincess13: Really? What's the name of the story?!

PoetTears: Lol!!! I'll take heed to your advice!

Ok, now that we've got the important stuff over with, let's start with the story!

oh yeah, and I wanted to clear something up: the whole rape situation—okay, Jackie's mom was raped by a white guy on her fifteenth birthday!!! She got married (against her parents' consent) at the age of seventeen, therefore she had Jackie. I realized that if Jackie's dad was white, then she wouldn't be completely black...which I just want her to be just because it makes it more...intense...? ooh, not the right word, but anyways.

Chapter 3: The Worst Day of School

(Jackie's POV)

Today is the worst day of school–the first. I can't say that wasn't nervous enough already, living in a new town and everything.

My mother had offered me a ride, but I had insisted on walking. Let's just say I was hoping I would run into a certain group of boys on the way...

'Oh, god,' I thought, smacking myself on the forehead, 'They probably have cars of their own'

I frowned at my absent-mindedness as I passed the Curtis residence. The house seemed unusually quiet, compared to its rowdy state on Saturday night.

Just as I had suspected, there was no car in the driveway...

My day did not get any better when I reached school. Just as I walked through the double doors, I spotted the last of the kids rushing to class as the bell rang. I shook my head disappointedly and pulled a small, creased paper from between the pages of A Separate Peace, one of my favorite novels.

My first period of the day would be spent in Physical Science II with Mr. Kowchevski in room 618. Well, it didn't take me long to find that class, since it was merely around the corner and down the hall.

I knocked on the door and waited patiently. A tall, blonde, curly-haired boy, dressed in a blue cardigan and khakis answered the door, immediately surprised by my figure standing there.

"Um, hi," I mumbled quietly as I noticed nearly the whole class turn to see who had appeared at the door, "I'm new and this is supposed to be my first period."

The teacher (evidently Mr. Kowchevski) stood at the front of the room with the same expression on his face as his students, speaking hesitantly.

"Is that what it says on your schedule?"

I looked over the schedule that was still clutched in my hand and nodded. He motioned for me to bring it over to him, which I did, a little confused at how awe-struck everyone seemed to be–hadn't they had a new student before?

Mr. Kowchevski shook his balding head slowly and wrote something down on my schedule.

"This is your correct class. It was probably just a silly mistake."

I took back the slip of paper and examined it. "Kowchevski" was scratched out and "Whitman" had been written in blue ink above it.

I nodded, not really sure how he could automatically tell that I was in the wrong in class, and ventured into the halls yet again.

After a moment of just standing there, motionlessly, I spotted a faculty member coming my way, holding a large stack of papers in one arm and a light folder in the other. "Excuse me," I said, as she slowed down her hurried pace, "Could you tell me where Mr. Whitman's classroom is?"

"It's Mrs. Whitman," she said, beginning on her path again, "and if you'd follow me, I would gladly lead you to my classroom."

I shifted my books to my left arm, offering to carry some of her papers. After a moment of contemplating, she nodded and plopped the heavier stack in my right arm.

By the time we had reached her class, which was on the second floor, on the other side of the school, my arms felt like they were just about the fall of.

She waltzed through the door, to be greeted by about twenty to twenty-five teenagers in what any civilized person would call "unruly actions".

I placed the load that had been unfortunately resting in my arms on the nearest desk and waited patiently (once again) as Mrs. Whitman made adjustments to the roll call.

"Well...?"

"Jacklyn," I stated.

"Yes, Jacklyn. You can take a seat–there's some in the back row."

I glanced at the expectant class, who had become considerably quiet, compared to their previous state. For a second, I didn't really know what to do. There was a vacant seat beside a girl that didn't look the least bit welcoming and there was another in between two–'hey, it's Two-Bit...and Johnny!'

I sighed gratefully as Two-Bit waved with that same grin that he seemed to never wipe off his face. I had briefly wondered if they would invite me to sit beside me or if they would pretend not to notice me standing there helplessly, but evidently, they were better than your average...people.

A few people turned to shoot dirty looks at the two people that had just saved me from my first-day-humiliation (–momentarily, at least).

"Alright, everybody," began Mrs. Whitman after things had quieted a little, "there's no pressure–it's just the first day"

"Unfortunately!" Immediately, as if expecting it, the class broke into laughter at Two-Bit's comment.

"And" continued Mrs. Whitman. I guess she was pretty used to those types of things, "we're just going to see what you guys know. There's no way any of you will get through the first semester without knowing the basics...."

Everyone groaned.

'Wow,' I thought, a smirk forming on my face, 'these kids are really into the whole students-who-respond-to-everything-you-say cliche, aren't they?'

Mrs. Whitman was drawing some type of map on the board which consisted of a series of boxes, branching off each other.

"What is in this box," she asked rapping on the box on the very top.

Matter, I thought, almost instantly.

After a few looks of bewilderment, a thin, blonde girl in the corner answered "matter?"

"Yes," Mrs. Whitman exclaimed, sounding rather surprised. In her swiveling cursive, she wrote the word 'matter' in the box and asked, slightly more confident this time, "and what are the two types of matter?"

The students looked around at each other, as if they could find the answer there.

I raised my hand, mumbling to myself "How easy is that? –Substance and Solution."

"No one knows?"

I stretched my hand as high as I could, waving it frantically.

Mrs. Whitman frowned suddenly, shaking her head and wrote two words in the two boxes below 'matter'–'substance' and 'solution'.

I reluctantly lowered my hand, confused.

'I could have sworn she saw me!'

"And what are the two types of substances?" This time, Mrs. Whitman, did not turn from the board

"Element and Compound," I said aloud.

I didn't flinch under the gazes of the students who had all turned in their seats to stare at me.

"Excuse me, Jacklyn," began Mrs. Whitman, putting an extra emphasis on my name, "but in this class, we do not just yell out random answers." She was now facing me, eyes narrowed. Instead of meeting her gaze, I turned to Johnny who shrugged and continued scribbling on a notepad.

"Does anyone know the answer to this question?" She acted as if nobody in the class had just told her!

She rolled her eyes as Two-Bit's hand shot up, but reluctantly called on him, "And what smart comment do you have for me this time, Keith?"

"Uh, it's Two-Bit, and the answer is Element and Compound."

My eyes widened as I shot the rusty-haired greaser beside me an angry look, my mouth hanging open. Two-Bit didn't even look at me, just snickered and pretended to be caught up in reading the cover page of his textbook.

"Well, Mr. Matthews," drawled Mrs. Whitman, filling in the vacant spaces under 'substance', "you might actually be passing my class this time."

The girl that had been quietly sitting beside Two-Bit leaned over and whispered sarcastically, "Yeah, Mr. Matthews, I'm surprised you can even pronounce compound–"

"He couldn't," I said, also leaning over Two-Bit, "he doesn't know a damn thing. He just–"

"Jacklyn!"

The girl and I straightened as soon as the words had escaped our teacher's lips, Two-Bit trying rather unsuccessfully to muffle his laughter.

"And another thing we do not do in this classroom is swear!"

I hung my head, figuring I'd better at least pretend to be ashamed of what I'd done. I'm not the trouble-making type of girl, in fact, I'm probably one of the best behaved students there is, but I was already frustrated with the days events.

"Detention," she declared as my eyes met hers (by that time, I probably looked as if I'd seen a ghost). "And it's a shame too–on the first day of school..."

I buried my head in my hands at the thought of detention. I'd never had detention before–ever.

And let me tell you, it didn't exactly help matters thinking of what my mother would say, or when I walked into study hall at three-fifteen that afternoon to find Ponyboy Curtis sitting in the very classroom that I was to for the next hour.

Alright, I think that's all for now! The next chapter will describe what happens in detention, so don't worry yer pants off–I'll update soon, I promise. Oh yeah, and there's some major fluffiness coming up in the next...three (?) Chapters, which I'm extremely eager to write. Remember–reviewers are ALWAYS good!