A/N: I know it took me a while to update, sorry! I reread the first three chapters and realized my writing was super choppy and boring and simplistic. Hopefully as the story goes on, I can improve that. Do you prefer short but frequent updates, or longer chapters but updated less often? This chapter is shorter, although I have the next few chapters already written.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Kickin' it. I'm not sure why I have to do this, but everyone else does it and I don't want to get in trouble.

Thursday morning

I walk through the crowded halls, all of the individual conversations melding together into a murmur of voices. Several times I can swear I see people glancing at me and I'm almost positive I heard my name several times. As you can see, I'm definitely paranoid, and it doesn't help that I barely got any sleep last night. I have no idea who took those pictures last night or why, but I'm currently pleading to the universe that the pictures haven't been shared around.

I notice a dark figure in my peripheral vision. It's Jack, standing at his locker. I want to talk to him; I want to ask him if he knows anything about the pictures or if they're being spread around already. I take a deep breath and the hair on the back of my neck stands up when I approach him.

"Jack," I say, but my throat is tight and it comes out just above a whisper. Jack stands there, looking into his locker. His jaw clenches, and I am once again in awe of the perfect structure of his face. He runs a hand through his hair and refuses to look at me. "I just… I was worried that those pictures might be spreading around school. Have you heard or seen anything about it?"

He sighs and says into his locker, "No. And don't ever bring this up at school again. Or better yet, don't talk to me again." He slams his locker shut and leaves me standing there, feeling like an idiot. I am usually a confident person, but that might have just bruised my ego.

Friday—Lunch

I sit down with the gang at our usual lunch table and pull out my brown sack of food.

"You know, Kim, you should get a lunchbox. All of those bags add up and end up in landfills," Milton says.

Eddie retorts, "And having a lunch box adds to your daily beatings from Frank and Randy."

Milton shrugs and nods. "Touché."

I take an apple out of my bag and get up to throw away a piece of trash. As I walk back to my table I toss my apple around, but I accidentally drop it. It doesn't land on the floor, though. It lands on someone's foot, and they kick it up and catch it. I look up and my breath catches in my throat. Jack. He stares at me blankly and I smile awkwardly. "Um, can I have my apple back?"

He takes a bite out of it and walks back to his table. Wow, he's so rude. Remind me why I have such a big crush on him? Oh, right, he's extremely hot. Stupid teenage hormones, making my taste in boys totally illogical.

Saturday

Today's the big day: my first tournament as part of the Bobby Wasabi dojo. I change into my gi, and my mom and dad drive me to the Black Dragon dojo, where the tournament is being held. When we park, I notice Jack's motorcycle. Of course he's here; he's a Black Dragon! Am I going to compete against him?

I greet my friends and take a seat on the bench, watching my them compete. Milton goes first. All he has to do is break more boards than his opponent and he'll earn his orange belt! Milton's opponent goes first, breaking two boards. Milton tells the referee to give him three boards. I feel bad for doubting him, but I don't let it show. We all cheer for him and Rudy whispers in my ear, "That kid is going to break his arm."

Milton surprises us and succeeds in breaking all three boards. We jump up and huddle around him to congratulate him on earning his orange belt. "Milton, that was amazing! We're so proud of you!" Rudy says. "Eddie, you're up next. All you have to do is spar with your opponent and force him out of the square."

"I got this," Eddie says confidently. When he turns around and sees a tall beefy dude waiting for him, he whimpers, "I don't got this."

"Eddie, you can do it. I know you have it in you. You just have to find your chi and use it to win the match," Rudy says.

"Okay. Find my chi. I can do that," Eddie says.

Eddie did not find his chi. He did, however, find the sausage he ate this morning after the giant punched him in the gut. So Eddie is still a yellow belt.

Now it's Jerry's turn. He's really our only hope, because I'm already a second degree black belt. The requirements for advancing to the third degree include years of training that I do not have. "Come on, Jerry. You're our only hope! You have to win this!" Eddie says.

"Guys, don't put so much pressure on him. What matters is that he does his best," Rudy says. "Because if we don't win, our dojo will shut down and it will be all Jerry's fault!" he finishes. That's Rudy for you.

Jerry does a nunchuck routine and nails it! He gets his orange belt and our dojo is saved. Rudy puts pressure on me to win my match because it would mean we won the tournament. I'm matched with Brody Carlson, a first degree black belt. Only ten seconds after the referee signals to start, he's on the floor with the wind knocked out of him. The ref holds my hand in the air and says, "Winner: Kim Crawford!" I smile triumphantly and jog back to the gang for them to engulf me in a group hug.

Family members and other spectators gradually leave the dojo until it is just us and the Black Dragons. While Jerry is talking about how he improvised his nunchuck routine, I tune him out and train my ears on the voices from the other side of the room. The sensei is roasting his students to a point where he seems unprofessional. Then again, Rudy never seems very professional either.

"You losers are a disappointment to this dojo! Jack is the only one here who helps us win our tournaments consistently. This is our first loss. We lost because you dweebs are useless without Jack participating!" Jack is sitting on the bleachers with earbuds in. All the other guys are hanging their heads in shame.

The gang is talking about dinner at Phil's to celebrate, and I tell them I have to go to the bathroom first. When I come out, the only person in the dojo is Jack. He has his earbuds in and is punching and kicking a dummy in the corner.

"Jack?" He doesn't respond. I tap his shoulder and he instantly turns around, grabs my arm, and throws me against the wall. How could he be so rough with me, yet I still feel safe and warm around him? When he realizes it was me that he just manhandled, his eyes go wide and he backs away, removing his earbuds.

"Shit. Sorry, I thought you were one of the Black Dragons."

I rub my wrist and shake off the way he just turned me on. "Do you know where everyone went? They were supposed to wait for me."

"Obviously they didn't."

"Right… Why didn't you compete today?" I ask cautiously, knowing he doesn't like questions.

"Taking a break from competing," he says tersely, going back at it on the dummy. I notice the punches from his left arm are much weaker that the ones from his right. I remember the scar, and it was on his left shoulder.

"Recovering from an injury?" I ask casually.

"It's none of your business," he growls, his punches getting stronger. How is he scaring me and turning me on at the same time? Seeing his strength makes me feel like he could protect me from anything. But why am I thinking about that? He doesn't even want to be my friend. Why would he protect me, and what would even be a threat to me in the first place?

"Is it your shoulder?" He turns to me and his face is stone cold. I swallow hard as he backs me into the wall.

"Damn it, blondie, what do you not get about none of your business?! Are you deaf? Are you that bad at reading social cues that you don't realize I don't want anything to do with you?" He's towering over me, only about a foot away. I bite my lip and try to swallow down the lump forming in my throat.

"I-I'm not… Why are you so angry?" I look into his eyes for answers, but I just can't read him.

"Because I want you to fucking leave me alone!" he yells in my face.

I blink at him like an idiot and I feel the heat rising to my cheeks. Anger is boiling up inside of me and it's about to burst out. "I don't understand you! You surround yourself with assholes and idiots but when I try to talk to you, try to be nice to you, you push me away? You're, like, the antithesis of a sane human being!"

"Fuck you!" We're both screaming now, and it feels surprisingly good to let all this anger out.

"You know you want to!" Wow, Kim. Great comeback.

"Yeah right! You're the last person on earth I'd want to fuck!"

"You're such a fucking asshole! Something really fucked up must have happened to you to make you this way!"

He's suddenly quiet and the anger on his face turns to sorrow. Oh, shit. He really did go through something fucked up.

"Jack, I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything I said. Just—"

"I meant every word. I don't want anything to do with you. I hate you. Get out," he snarls.

I bite my lip and try not to let the water welling up in my eyes fall. I shove past him and run to my car, ignoring the electricity I feel when our bodies brush together. I can't believe I thought he might be a good guy once I get to know him. He proved me wrong.

My parents are still waiting for me in the parking lot. I meet my friends at dinner and pretend my whole interaction with Jack didn't happen. Their antics and jokes make everything seem to go back to normal, and my encounter with Jack is far in the back of my mind when I'm with them.

It's when I'm home alone for the first night, trying to fall asleep, that I can't get my mind off what he said. He doesn't want anything to do with me. It just doesn't make sense. It's like he wants to be lonely, like he's pushing me away because he knows I care about him. What happened to him that made him this way?

Monday morning

I spent most of my time yesterday doing homework, which I had a lot of over the weekend. Now I'm on my way to my first class. Jack passes by me and completely ignores me, which is not surprising. But why does he have to be so gorgeous? I'm not a shallow person, but my hormones don't really care about personality. Every time I see him, my body physically aches for him. How does he have this effect on me?

About halfway through class, Jack excuses himself to go to the bathroom. It's been about ten minutes, and the teacher finally lets me go to the bathroom even though Jack hasn't gotten back yet because I told her it was 'girl problems.' I just really have to pee.

After using the restroom, I push the door open, turn the corner, and a body slams into me, shoving me to the ground.

"Damn it blondie, watch where you're going," a low voice mutters above me. When I brush my hair out of my face, the sight above me takes my breath away, like always. Jack his hovering over me on his forearms, scowling at me. How is it that in a matter of seconds, he can make my heart race, make me forget how to breathe, make my brain turn to mush, make my core burn and ache for him? It's those damn hormones. And at the same time, there's a warmth radiating from him that contradicts the coldness of his glare.

"Why don't you watch where you're going? You knocked me over," I retort. My cheeks are burning under his cold glare.

"Why don't you go fuck yourself?" Jack growls. How did that turn me on? He's being mean! Why does my vagina like that?

"Why don't you suck my dick?" I say, trying (and failing) to be as intimidating as he is.

"Why don't you suck my dick?" Oh god. Why did he have to say that? Now my imagination is coming up with some very graphic and inappropriate images.

"What dick? You mean your personality?" Oooooh, good comeback, Kim!

"Fuck you!"

A smirk tugs at my lips as I say, "You obviously want to. Why else would you still be on top of me?"

"I bet if I did want to fuck you, you'd let me. I know I turn you on," he says with the slightest bit of a smirk of his own. He had been hovering his whole body over mine, but now he's pressing himself against me. I swallow hard and close my eyes, trying to compose myself. "I'm turning you on right now, aren't I?" Jack asks, grinding on me. I can feel his growing bulge pressing right against my center. Oh, god! I must be having a wet dream or something. But then I notice something that I wish I didn't: his breath on my face.

Hot breath on my face. So heavy, crushing me. It hurts! Stop! Get off, get off, get off! Help! Please, stop! BANG! My ears are ringing, I can't hear, I can't breathe, I can't move…

A/N: How was it? Anything you think I should have written differently or anything you don't like about the story? Anything you do like about the story? I know the ending was a bit strange. What do you think happened to Kim, or where these memories are coming from? Tell me your predictions in the comments! The more feedback I get, the sooner I'll post the next chapter. :D