Chapter 3:

Heeeeyyyy, so yeah, basically, like the chapters before, this one is edited, because some of the scenes in here were just so incredibly unplausible that they simply couldn't stay.

I like to think that this version is a slight improvement on the original, and that you won't hate me for replacing a bunch of stuff...

DISCLAIMER: (Is this really necessary?) I don't own kickin'it or anything else that doesn't belong to me, blah blah blah, yada yada yada…

So here it is :

But it all seemed so real…

I had long forgotten the events of that day, since I was now busy with other things, by which I mean school. It had been two days of non-stop school shopping and lectures on 'how to make friends without scaring them away' from my dad. Pfft, please, like he knows any more than I do about making friends; he hasn't been out with his 'crew' in over a year.

It was now monday and my first day of school at Seaford high. And boy, was that place big.

I was entering the school gates as when checked my phone for the time. 8:40, it read. Great, 20 minutes early, thanks a bunch, dad.

I absolutely hated being early. It wasn't so much the 'being early' part that I hated the most, but the wait. You see, I was what some people would call 'impatient', and waiting just made me cranky. And no-one likes a cranky Kim.

Wanting to at least be comfortable as I watched the time go by, I went over to a bench and sat down after making sure that it had completely dried from the storm we'd had the evening before.

I reached down into the depths of my bag and rummaged around for my iPhone. Hairbrush...lipgloss...pepper spray...tic tacs - oh! Yummy! - Focus, Kimberly. phone, phone, phone...where could you be...I'm sure I put you in here...unless...-

Oh, fuck-a-duck.

I'd left my phone at home.

My phone with all my music, games and internet...not to mention pictures of sexy men.

Which meant that I now had a very long, very boring, very lonely twenty minute wait ahead of me.

Gaah!

Ten minutes into my mental game of I spy, I felt like gouging out my little eyes and juggling with them. Even that had to be better than what I was doing now.

I was positively ready to explode when all of a sudden I heard a loud grunt coming from behind me. I turned around slightly, but when I saw nothing I turned back round and resumed feeling immensely suicidal.

But then I heard another grunt. And another. And another.

And this time when I faced the large field behind me once again, I definitely saw something. Or rather someone.

It was a boy, a senior maybe, and he was shirtless in the middle of the football field, waving his arms around in all sorts of poses.

It was only after watching him for several minutes in curious fascination that I grasped that he was actually not a raving lunatic, but in fact practicing some form of martial arts, most likely karate.

From where I was, I couldn't clearly see his face, but I could just about make out his strong, muscular build, and the way his biceps flexed every time he threw a punch into the air.

He moved with such elegance and fluidity, I could only guess that he was very a experienced martial artist. Maybe he trained at a local dojo...

My eyes widened considerably when I saw him perform a perfect front aerial flip, his body not once touching the ground. He must have been some sort of professional...

I was so caught up in the magnificent man in front of me that I had been completely oblivious to the school grounds rapidly filling up with students all around me. The shrill ringing of the school bell surprised me so much that it almost knocked me off of the bench.

Scrambling to my feet, I quickly picked up my bag and coat, refusing to be late on my first day of school. But when I turned back for one last peek at the mysterious martial artist, I was quite surprised to find him staring right back at me, the harsh sunlight still blocking out his face.

But even without seeing his eyes, I could almost feel his stare on me, the way his eyes were searing my skin, burning me with his gaze. I was captivated. And in that moment I wanted nothing more than to march over there, grab his sweaty body and-

"Young lady!" I jumped, frightened by the sudden voice coming from behind me.

I reluctantly turned around, wanting to stare a bit more but knowing that I shouldn't.

"Come inside, now! You're going to be late for first period! Hurry up!" The short ginger woman standing at the front doors called to me, arms crossed and glasses low on her nose, giving me a disapproving stare.

"Sorry! I'm coming!" I apologised, hurrying towards the building.

When I was at the doors, I turned around once more, hoping to catch one last glimpse of the unknown hunk, but there was nothing there but grass.

Disappointed, I entered the establishment and prepared myself for a horrible first day.

It was a wonder that I had even found my class, let alone made it on time.

The school, true to its appearance, was ridiculously large. I had to turn god knows how many corners before I reached the right section of the school, and even then it was a hassle just to find the right room.

But I was now sitting comfortably in a seat in the back row of the classroom, relishing in the few moments of peace before the teacher, a middle-aged man with a goatee, started his lesson.

Now, in case you were wondering, I did indeed have other hobbies than karate. In fact, one of my favourite things to do to pass the time was to people-watch. That's right. Yet another strangeness to add to the growing list of 'Things that make Kim Crawford weird'.

But, I don't know, there was just something about watching people, observing them, trying to figure them out. Imagining why it is that that couple is arguing, why that girl is constantly checking her phone, how that guy ended up on the receiving end of an atomic wedgie.

I loved trying to get into their heads and finding out what makes them tick. It's fascinating.

I observed the mass of rowdy teenagers littering the room, attempting to assess everyone in their own select little groups;

The - please excuse my lack of a better word - geeks at the front with their textbooks already open, were probably engaging in a rather fascinating debate about the string theory, or the superiority of the Daleks vs the Cybermen.

the Jocks were sat a few rows behind them, sporting their squeaky-clean letterman jackets and most likely raving about that 'totally kickass party' that they supposedly attended over the weekend, when in actual fact they were at home, celebrating their Nana's eightieth birthday like the little momma's boys they really are.

Naturally, where there are jocks, the pretty girls will never bee too far behind. The preppy, pretty, happy-go-lucky girls were all grouped together, sitting next to their BFFLs and gossiping about...the new Ryan Gosling movie coming out in the cinemas, and praising each other's nail jobs.

I assumed that the students on my row were the so-called 'delinquents' that every school was required to have; the type to arrive late and smoke on school grounds, constantly finding themselves in detention and were on a first-name basis with the Principal. They weren't really saying much, just laughing occasionally at some random joke, or playing with their lighters. I guess they were also pyromaniacs.

The rest of the teenagers filling the room seemed relatively normal, conversing with whoever was around them and being generally sociable. Nothing much to observe there.

I was just about to attempt to sneak in a quick nap before class started, but all hopes of a little shut-eye disappeared as the teacher-Mr. Wilson, as he wrote on the board, started calling the register.

I let out a silent groan. What in the world could have possessed that sadist we call fate to curse us with Math in first period. It was completely unfair. Why should we have to suffer for crimes that we did not commi-

"Kimberly Crawford" I was torn away from my rather inspirational thoughts by Mr. Wilson calling my name on the register.

"Kimberly Crawford" He called again. God, I hated that name. I still didn't fully understand why my parents had chosen such a god-awful name if they were just going to shorten it anyway? Why not save us all the hassle and just name me Kim? Things would be much simpler...

"Here, sir." I confirmed, raising my hand slightly in the air so as to show him where I was. "And it's Kim, by the way, not Kimberly." I added.

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind Miss Crawford." He smiled kindly. I answered his smile with a small one of my own and sank back down into my seat.

He had reached V on the roll call when the door suddenly burst open, making way for possibly the most delicious boy that I had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

He entered the classroom, a perfect picture of confidence and ease, his hands comfortably nestled in the pockets of his faded blue jeans. His worn black backpack hung low from one of his shoulders and his fitted blue and white striped tee-shirt clung deliciously to the defined muscles underneath.

He was absolutely formidable.

He ran a large hand through his silky brown locks and gave the teacher a sheepish smile.

"Sorry sir," he apologised. "I got held up at the principal's office. Something about glue in the janitor's shoes…I dunno, I fell asleep half way through the lecture." I held back a giggle. He had such a deep voice...

"Anyway, here's my late pass." He pulled out a slip of paper from his jean pocket and handed it to mr. Wilson, who took a moment to inspect it before nodding his head and throwing it into the trash can.

"Very well," He announced. "You can take a seat now."

The hottie gave him a two-fingered salute and proceeded to make his way to the back of the classroom, near where I was sat, stopping several times for greeting handshakes and high-fives with jocks and geeks alike.

He must have been pretty popular.

Finally, he came to sit down just a few seats away from me, and I couldn't help but sneak a quick peek at his beautiful face as he wasn't looking.

Jesus, it was like the Greek Gods had sculpted him themselves. Gah!

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't even notice him turn towards me until it was too late.

Suddenly I found myself locking eyes with the most gorgeous male in the room, and what gorgeous eyes they were. His dark chocolate orbs bored intentely into my own, and the heat of his stare was so intense that I thought for a moment that I was going to erupt into flames.

I could feel my cheeks heating up, surely turning a most embarrassing shade of fire-hydrant red, and my stomach started to fill up with the metaphorical butterflies that everyone is always referencing. Except that what I was feeling was less like butterflies, and more like a swarm of wasps, buzzing around in the pit of my belly and making me feel more and more aware of the adonis in front of me with every deadly sting.

My breath hitched in my throat when he suddenly curved his mouth up into an arrogant smirk, and I could have sworn that my heart stopped beating when he gave me a cheeky wink, before turning back around and leaving me utterly flustered.

I swear I nearly swooned right there.

The rest of the lesson went by agonisingly slowly. During the whole hour I felt Brewer's heated gaze all over my body, leaving a trail of fire in it's path. I ended up completely missing mr. Wilson's lesson because I couldn't seem to concentrate on the board for more than a minute until I felt his eyes back on me. Although it did give me some satisfaction in knowing that since he had spent the hour burning holes into my head, he mustn't have learnt very much either. It seemed like I affected him just as much as he did me.

When the bell signalling the end of the period rang throughout the school, I couldn't decide wether I was relieved or disappointed that he would no longer be able to distract me.

I didn't have time to make a decision as I checked my new timetable for my next lesson.

Physics.

Cue groans of despair.

During my next lesson with mr. Lubinski, I found myself longing for mr. Shiny hair to come and stare at me, if only to distract me from the painfully boring lesson going on around me.

Whoever invented Physics deserved to be hung. Then brought back to life. Then decapitated and fed to Lions.

I couldn't have been faster in exiting the classroom as the bell for recess rang.

When I stepped out of the main doors I felt a wave of heat so intense that I almost took a step back hit me, and I decided that it would probably be in my best interest to find a spot of shade, and fast.

Making my way over to the football field that I had occupied earlier that morning, I found myself a nice, tall oak tree to sit under, immediately revelling in the cool shade that the long, thick branches provided.

All of a sudden I felt my stomach rumble so loudly that even the little asian factory children in Korea probably could have heard it, reminding me of the breakfast that I had neglected to eat that morning.

It rumbled again, and I found myself searching my bag desperately for something edible to scarf down, smiling in triumph as I pulled out a shiny, red apple, the King of fruits.

I munched happily away at my snack, and was just about to throw away the core when I heard footsteps coming from behind me, then next to me, then in front of me, until I looked up and found that it was no other than don't-know-his-first-name Brewer.

He was looking down at me with a cocky grin on his face, arms crossed and relaxed posture.

I raised a brow questioningly, wondering why he was here, and if he had sought me out intentionally.

He smirked at my silence and plopped to the ground, sitting in a very male position; legs bent with his arms crossed over his knees.

He brought a hand up to the black sunglasses he was wearing and pushed them further up to rest on his perfect hair.

"So," he spoke. "Word in the hallways is that there's a new girl in school. And I'm willing to bet that it's you. Or have you been here since Freshman year, making me a total douche for not noticing you earlier?"

I chuckled, loosening up slightly, relaxing the muscles that I had been unaware were tensed.

"Don't worry, you're not a douche - at least not that I know of - I just moved here about a week ago." I confirmed, earning me a dazzling smile that had the potential to make any girl fall to his feet.

"I thought as much," he nodded to himself. "You have that new kid smell."

I laughed at that, the guy sure had a sense of humour. No wonder he was popular.

"So, are you gonna tell me your name?" He enquired. "I mean, it only seems natural after the was you were eye-raping me in class back there. I should feel violated," he teased, and I felt my blood rush up to my cheeks in embarrassment.

How dare he make fun of me. It's not like I started it. He's the one walked in there, looking all sexy. There should be a law against it.

I gave him the stink-eye as I answered him.

"It's Kim. Kim Crawford. And if I remember correctly, you were doing your fair share of violating too," I countered, hoping to embarrass him too, but all he did was grin like a fucking cheshire cat.

"I like you," he stated rather matter-of-factly, his bluntness catching me quite off-guard for a moment. "You've got spunk. My name's Brewer. Jack Brewer. But you can call me God."

"Yeah," I scoffed. "God-awful comedian is more like it. Jesus, you're even worse than my dad!" I couldn't help but let out a teensie smile as he threw his head back in laughter.

"You know what? I think we're gonna get along just fine, you and me."

I couldn't help but agree.

Just fine, indeed.

…

Soooo, there it is. As I mentionned before, this chapter is edited because I just found that there were so many things wrong with it.

Including that preposterous scene with the dry-mouth syndrome. I mean who on earth came up with that?

*raises hand in shame*

Anyway, hope you stay tuned for the rest of the story :)

-CCC