Note: I added some other warnings in the notes for the first chapter. Typical terribleness from movie JD might be installed into Veronica's character, so be warned.

I rose that Friday morning with the notion that, since the school year was drawing to a close, Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney would ease on nitpicking people. Let me have a pleasurable school day for once in Sherwood, Ohio.

After the last day? I could watch horror movies and drink slushies. Smoke cigarettes. Read books. Graduate. Go to college. Live out the rest of my life with Veronica.

However, my hasty conclusions were proven false.

After an argument in second period with me refusing to let Ram copy some of my answers for finals, he and his slightly more intelligent friend approached me after school.

I was taking Les Misérables from my locker and stuffing it into my backpack when Kurt slammed the door shut.

"Hey, fuckface," Kurt sneered. Ram lingered behind him like some sort of shadow.

I put on my backpack and started to walk away. Ram grabbed my shoulder, tossing me into the lockers. He leaned into my face. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from this hellhole, I'd imagine."

"Oh, so you think you're smart now. Tell me, why didn't you give my buddy Ram here your answers?"

I shrugged. "Didn't feel like telling anyone - I'd rather not get caught. The last day is about two weeks away, and I'd like to become a senior."

"Oh, so you were gonna narc me out?"

As I glanced around, I noticed that people were gathering. They whispered among themselves, staring me dead in the eye. Heather Duke was one of them. She watched me with snake-like eyes, holding her book, Moby Dick, to her chest. "Yeah. Guess I was."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Just as I thought. Shit, I thought you were smart as Veronica - but I guess you're just another pothead."

I shifted uncomfortably under his weight, slowly and surely flickering my gaze from the floor to his eyes.

We stared at each other for what must of been ten seconds - although it felt like hours.

He bared his teeth like a mad wolf, snarling.

"Anything else to say before before I beat your ass, pretty boy?"

I narrowed my eyes and smirked. "Bite me."

Ram punched me as hard as he could muster the strength to.

And the fight commenced.

I managed to organize a routine. Dodge.

Punch.

Block.

Kick.

Throw another punch.

This continued for another minute or so - before Kurt managed to restrain me. At that moment? I was a human punching bag.

Blood dribbled down my face, staining the fabric of my trench coat. People gagged and screamed, running in different directions. Heather Duke stayed put - either out of fear or out of hope that she'd be considered a witness and be interviewed.

All I could compute that was the room was a mass of chaos as the three of us tried to overpower each other, kicking and scratching and writing. I could feel my ankle twist, and, at that moment, I let out a pain-induced cry. The two chuckled and backed away. They admired their work like they had created a renaissance masterpiece.

The world faded around me as the barks of teachers erupted from the halls.

o00o

Ram and Kurt were suspended for three days after the fight.

If I wasn't considered bedridden in my room during those three days, I would've celebrated. Sadly enough, thanks to the efforts they made to make me miserable, I spent those days reading old books and poems. Sipping the slushies McNamara had generously gave me. Staring into space.

However, on the second day, I was awoken to the shape of Veronica paused in the doorway.

I lifted my head off of my pillow, grimacing as light trickled into the room as she creaked open the door.

Veronica looked undeniably tired - her eyes drooping and posture slouched.

She ambled towards me, dragging my backpack over shoulder.

"Here," she croaked, "Found it in a ditch behind Westerburg."

I observed it's contents, noting the sodden notebooks and papers. I cringed as I pulled out meticulous notes I had taken over a few months, now smeared with ink or speckled with dirt. Some items, however, deemed to be recoverable. Pencils and pens still wrote, a calculator still turned on, and my binder still dry enough to pass.

But one thing was missing from the bag.

Its companions still sat in the bag - prose and poems from Emily Dickinson, Les Misérables and Lord of the Flies.

I searched around the contents of the backpack, hoping for the thick book to appear magically.

"What are you looking for, JD?"

I peeked at Veronica, before returning to the search. "I can't find it."

"Can't find what?" she asked. She sighed and narrowed her eyes.

"My book - it's an Edgar Allen Poe poem book. I had it with me before the fight."

Veronica snatched the bag from me, digging around it before looking back up with a scowl.

I brushed a hand through my hair, glancing away at the wall. "They took it, didn't they?"

She pursed her lips, paused for a nanosecond, and reached for me. She stroked my jawline, submersed in thought.

"Who did you fight?" she asked curtly.

"Ram and Kurt," I confessed. "Ram wanted to copy my test and I refused to let him."

Veronica tensed, her fingernails digging into my skin. When she saw me wince, she mumbled sorry and continued to caress lightly. "He probably took it, JD. I can go over to his house and take it for myself -"

"He'll probably expect that," I blurted. "I mean, you have been really aggressive these past few days."

She froze. "More aggressive?"

Veronica climbed into the bed, positioning herself to face me. Her face was inches away from mine.

"Really?"

I shyed away from her gaze. "Kind of."

An assemblage of emotions flared in her eyes. "How so?"

Veronica's pose was inhospitable now. Her cold, unsteady breaths grazed my face, creating a shiver in response.

"Its just that," I stuttered, trying my best to meet her eyes. "You've been weird ever since Heather Chandler's death."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You punched Sandra Wakefield for bumping into you."

"That girl pushed me. She was obviously trying to piss me off!" Veronica snapped, her deadpan air fading.

Veronica was now intertwined with me, oblivious to how much her weight stung the bruises and scratches on my skin. She gripped my chin and clenched her teeth. "I'm fine, JD," she hissed. "I always have been."

"Are you sure?" I managed to utter before she cut me off with a kiss.

She shifted few centimeters back and separated from me. She ran her fingers through my hair, smiling softly. "I'm just trying to protect you, Jace. From all those shitheads in Sherwood."

But, even though it was obvious how fake that smile and her words was, it convinced me more than anything else could.

How could Veronica ever do something like that? She obviously cares about me.

I ignored the thought of manipulation and buried my face in her velvety, citrus-scented dark hair. As she seemed to relax and beam at my reaction, she kissed my forehead.

"We're so much better than all of them," Veronica exclaimed, her eyes gleaming like a bonfire.

I could only wrap an arm around her shoulder and look out the window.

"Uh-huh, darling."

"No, we are," she insisted. "Trust me on this one. For once! You and I have a chance to get rid of all these idiots. We could live together - with no one else to bother us."

With a slight shake of my head, I rolled directly towards her and tried to give her the notion that I was trying to sleep again.

"Jace..."

It certainly agitated me to realize how similar the both of sounded. The potent, brazen spiels, the flirtatious remarks, and the confident air...

My eyes opened slightly. "Just - we can deal with this shit in the morning. Just get some sleep, all right?"

Veronica seemed to protest for a good ten seconds, before moving her body to settle next to mine.

I weaved Veronica and I's limbs together, painfully, as it proved that my bruises and gashes still stung. But, I laid my head next to her's, I could feel the heat rising off her skin.

Whatever was being debated in her befuddling mind, I could tell she was either calculating a plan or just plain pissed.

Knowing her - knowing me? Probably both.

Looks like Veronica's not too happy. I wonder what'll happen...

If you're wondering: Jace is a nickname. I assume that Veronica and JD have a strong enough relationship for her to call him names other than JD. (Although I'm sure JD probably hates people calling him anything other than his initials...)

Sorry I didn't update sooner. School been a hassle, and I have a book report to write + three vocab tests I need to study for...But I am currently sick, so I was able to work on this enough to get it finalized and published. The next chapter might be in awhile (I'll try to update by next Thursday or sooner.)

Before I close off this chapter, I'd like to thank my friend 2tiredtoday2hate for helping me out with this fanfic. She's been amazing with helping me finalize concepts and developing ideas.

Responses to Reviews

Jasmemem - Thanks so much! Nice to know you're enjoying these chapters so far :)

Hypnotic-sleeptalk - To be honest, I might've read your review about five times over...I'm seriously flattered! I just read a bunch of old books, and the vocabulary from those just kind of transfer over. Even though Veronica and JD are being changed majorly, I want to stay true as possible to their characters - and, as long as I can help it, I'll never abandon this fanfic. Thanks for your support!

Thanks for reading! Have a wonderful day.