Disclaimer: Still the same

Summary: Hasn't changed

Note: The next five chapters will be flashbacks of Jackson and Lisa's evolving relationship. Since they jump around, it might be hard to follow, so just incase anyone gets lost, I'll be posting a timeline with each new chapter.

Timeline: This chapter takes place during Lisa and Jackson's senior year in High School, so the takes place about nine years before the prologue.

Shout Out To My Reviewers:

steph88NYC: Thank you for reading my story. I'm glad you like it and hopefully you'll enjoy the rest of the story.

BregoBeauty: Because the story's AU, basically nothing changed in the movie, because it never happened during this story's timeline. I wanted to play around with an alternate way of Lisa and Jackson meeting and falling in love.

Ghostwriter: Girl, I don't know how to express how thankful I am that you take the time to read all of my stories, even the ones you've never seen before, and review as well. I just wish I could do that with your stories, but it gets hard for me when I don't have a face to go with the character. Besides, you have over a hundred stories under your name. It'll take me a while to read all of them, but hopefully someday I can.

truthfulies: And hopefully it'll get even more interesting as time goes on.

Breezi: I really appreciated the review. Hope you enjoyed this new chapter.

PinkFreud: Thanks for the review. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Chapter One: High School Tormentor

"Lisa, I've seen the kind of guys you hang out with," Jackson Rippner jeered tauntingly, shaking his head sadly, cornering me against the trunk of a nearby tree. "But I'm the only man you've met."

Disgusted, I rolled my eyes, snorting. Briefly, my eyes flickered over his lean, tanned, and muscular body. Thick, unruly, dark strands of hair, parted down the middle, lay on either side of his face, just below his crystalline blue eyes. Every girl in school had fallen prey to his charms, swooning every time he entered the room. No matter where he ventured, a group of five or six girls trailed after, fawning over him, like lovesick puppies. Just who does he think he is? Casanova?

Now I wish I had accepted my best friend's offer to accompany her and her boyfriend to the mall. Instead, I foolishly opted for walking home alone. Even taking the bus would have been wiser. However, the fading summer warmth, caressing my skin, and the whispering winds, combing its fingers through my hair, had beckoned to me. There wouldn't be many more days like this, so in the end I had walked home.

Absently I adjusted my backpack, causing my shirt to ride up. As I pulled it down, I pressed my lips together, wondering if any guy would ever spare a second glance my way. Compared to the girls Jackson and half the male population at my school chased, I was just a boring, know-it-all, stubborn, misfit.

Tucking a stray strand of strawberry, blond hair behind my ear, I blinked as the wind tousled and scattered the lifeless leaves, already a golden auburn, across the ground. Occasionally the passing of a car shattered the silence, but otherwise the neighborhood appeared deserted, at least until he showed up.

"At least my boyfriend's a gentleman, which is more than I can say for you," I shot back tartly, shaking my previous thoughts away.

He smirked. "Lisa, you're never going to have a boyfriend," he mocked, laying a hand on my shoulder. "It's a shame really," briefly he paused, slowly eyeing my figure. I flinched at the unhidden hunger and desire blazing in his gaze, unconsciously wrapping my arms around my waist. "It's a shame," he repeated softer this time as he stepped closer, lightly caressing my cheek before sliding his finger down my neck seductively. "Because maybe if you got some…." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Inhaling sharply, I wrenched myself from his grasp, my mouth moving soundlessly. How dare he! How DARE he! Angrily I glared at him, my cheeks flushed red, flaming and burning with embarrassment, as he stood there, his head thrown back, the deep rumble of his laughter mixed in with the shrill shrieks of his fan club. Unconsciously my fists clenched and unclenched. Just who did he think he was?

"Maybe you can fool the girls in this school," I hissed, my voice shaking from suppressed anger, "but I know who and what you really are: you're a cold, cruel, self-centered, arrogant, conceited, egotistical, jerk!"

Abruptly the mirth died in his eyes, his expression darkening. A collected gasp rippled through the girls present. Although I noticed the angry splotches of red rising in his cheeks, the dangerous, murderous glint in his eyes, his fists clenching at his side, and his lips pinched in a firm line, all telltale hints of his anger ready to explode, like a raging volcano, I ignore it. It was high time someone put this spoiled brat, who thought he could do whatever he wanted, in his place.

"You play around with girls' hearts, making them feel special, until you decide to drop them and pursue a new victim. Well, grow up, Jackson! Women these days are looking for real men…not immature little boys, like you!"

Snarling, he raised his hand, reared back, and before I say anything else, his palm unexpectedly connected with the side of my face, the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh hung in the air. Hesitantly I took a step back, resisting the urge to press my fingers against my cheek, still stinging from the burning sensation of being hit.

"You don't know anything about me," he growled, violently shoving me backwards. "Just stay away from me bitch!"

My eyes widened as I felt the tickling sensation of tears welling up behind my eyes. Never in all fifteen years of my life had I ever been called that before. Rapidly blinking, I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. However, as I closed my eyes, a single tear, followed closely by another, betrayed me, spilled over and began making its way down my cheek.

"Aw, poor baby," several girls taunted in mock sweet voices, "not going to cry, are you?"

"If you ever come near or touch me again, I will personally cut off your little man and feed it to your adoring fan club," I spat, my voice deathly calm, my gaze focusing mainly on Jackson.

Stiffening, a fleeting expression of nervousness flickered in his gaze, before it disappeared to be replaced with a smirk. "Is that a threat, Lisa?" he taunted, momentarily amused.

"It's a warning," I barked, spitefully my eyes narrowing. "Stay away from me."

Then without giving him a chance to respond, I spun around on my heel, stalking towards my home. Throwing open the door, I slammed it shut, hurled my backpack on the couch, and screamed. As the shrill sound ricocheted through the otherwise deserted house, my dog, Tora, flinched, slowly backing away, her tail uncurling before she scampered from the room, the jingling of her license echoing as she scurried down the hall.

"Stupid dog," I grumbled to myself, heading for my room.

Not bothering to close my door, I sank down onto my bed, the mattress shifting under my weight, and sighed. Stay away from me bitch! Unexpectedly Jackson's harsh words flashed through my mind and I flinched. As tears again threatened to spill, I flipped over onto my stomach, folded my arms, and rested my chin on my hands, the tips of my shoes just hanging over the edge of my bed, and squeezed my eyes shut, feeling them roll down both my cheeks and seeping onto my pillow. Unconsciously I clutched my bed sheets in tight wads, as my vision blurred, while lying there, my heart scarred, torn, and bleeding from unseen wounds.

Some time later, at the sound of the dead bolt turning accompanied by the sound of our dogs barking, my eyes snapped open.

Mom and Dad were home!

Numbly, I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and hurried towards the bathroom, flicking on the light as I closed the door behind me. Glancing in the mirror, I winced at my tear-stained cheeks and puffy, red eyes reflecting back at me. Sniffling, I grabbed a nearby towel, threw it over my shoulder, switched on the faucet, cupped my hands under the running water, and splashed it over my face, hoping to erase the traces of having been crying.

"Lisa, honey, are you in there?" Mom called through the door as she lightly rapped on the door with her nails.

I jumped; I hadn't even heard her coming down the hallway. "Yes, Mom." Quickly I began applying a light layer of make up.

"I just wanted to remind you that Alan and his friend from Karate should be here any minute."

My shoulders slumped as I gripped the side of the sink, groaning. I had completely forgotten about that! Glancing down at my watch, which read 4:15 PM, I vaguely recalled Alan saying they would be home by 4:30 PM at the latest.

I glanced back up at the mirror. Finally satisfied with my attempts at erasing any remaining traces of puffiness or tears, I wandered out into the living room. Holding my head high, I smiled at my parents, attempting to create a false air of cheerfulness around me, but somehow Mom sensed the lingering shroud of depression hanging over my shoulders. As she opened her mouth, I stiffened, bracing myself for interrogation, the doorknob turned and Alan and his friend walked through the door.

Thankful for the distraction, I spun around.

The smile on my face immediately faded as I locked eyes with…him.

Jackson Rippner.

He was Alan's friend from karate?

A pair of equally shocked eyes stared back at me. Vaguely I heard the deep rumble of Alan's voice as he introduced our parents and me to Jackson. An awkward silence fell over the room as Jackson and I continued to wordlessly stare at each other. Noticing the expression of fear lingering in his gaze, the corner of my mouth twisted upwards. Apparently he wasn't sure if I had told Alan about our little encounter earlier.

Catching the uneasy glances Alan had exchanged with Mom and Dad, Jackson blinked, breaking eye contact. Masking his shock, he cleared his throat and held out his hand, obviously with the intention of pretending nothing had ever happened between us. Disdainfully I glared at his hand, wrinkling my nose.

"We've met," I deadpanned, my voice devoid of emotion. "Long time no see, Jackson."

As he flinched slightly under the sharp look my brother shot him, I smirked, not at all envious of the conversation that awaited him with Alan later.

Payback time.