A/N: To all of you lovelies who enjoy my Human Eric in Northman's Off Rivington... you're in luck. Here's the high school version. He's darker, more troubled, wear's a leather jacket (duh, don't they all?) and smokes a cigarette like he's making love to it. James Dean much? Oh yes.

This whole story started as a game. Hopefully all of you have been voting for Eric Northman on the E! Online poll to determine the 'Alpha Male' of TV. What's that? You haven't? GAH! Go! Now!

waits...

Did you vote? Good. Alright then. Back to business. This was started as a game. In order to vote you have to type in a word to prove that you're human to the system. Ironic, no? Anywho, all the words that were coming up were hilariously suggestive. Wood, stiff, blood, neck, screw... I kid you not.

The ladies on the Sookieverse forum and I decided that each time we got a word after voting, you'd have to put it into a sentence that went along with our Sookie/Eric theme.

The sentences soon became paragraphs, and those soon became full on scenarios... all leading to The Bitch and the Hellcat.

Roxanne Bird and Yogagal are also cooking up some High Stories for y'all. Be sure to check those out too!

For all intense and purposes, the town these characters live in is now a coastal one. The beach is a large part of their lives. Not to mention Eric lives with two of his brothers, who are professional surfers. (They all moved from Sweden a few years back. The boys were snowboarders there, but switched it up for the warmer climate.) Why you ask? Because I grew up in a beach town, next door to a professional surfer. Write what you know folks, write what you know.

Their high school is Lafayette High, its motto: Liassez Les Bon Temps Rouler!

Let the good times roll.

Sookie

I kissed my Gran goodbye that morning and checked my hair in the mirror by the front door. My ponytail didn't seem tight enough, so I pulled at the ends and smoothed it down habitually, before stepping out onto the back porch to head out for the day. Humidity was one of those things I despised. What it did to hair was tragic and horrific. A ponytail was one of my only defenses against the muggy climate that was our town in the summertime. Or, the end of summer to be exact.

The reason for my extra fuss that morning was because of the date, September 2nd. The annual day where you could almost hear every child and teen sigh as they woke up in the morning, dreading to open their eyes. The date that meant a new school year. Kill. Me. Now. Was the first thought I usually had each September 2nd. The beach was still calling my name with the promise of sun and fresh salt air, but so was Senior year. That was something that resinated with me deeply, and only this time did it over ruled my yearn for the beach.

As I stepped off the porch that day, I could only think of one thing...

This will be the last time I have to do this. The last first day. Thank-fucking-god.

I saw some new cars in the parking lot that perked my interest when I drove in with my old Nova. I loved my car. It was yellow and rusty and classically crappy in that laid back kinda way. The only thing I had splurged on with my car was the stereo. A fancy paint job or automatic windows didn't mean much to me. Hell, working brakes I could even do without, but good tunes were a necessity.

The new cars didn't mean new students, just early graduation presents most likely. On the contrary, we hadn't had a new student for about five years. Don't know why really. No one thinks to move here, only visit during the summertime, to rape us for our beaches and the waves.

My friend Amelia got out of one of the new shiny toys in the parking lot with a big ass smile on her face. Boys were already ogling, some actually drooled. Obviously daddy had pulled through for her 18th birthday. Amelia was destined for the Ivy League, and no way was she not going to show up in style when she got there. That was the deal. She'd make the grades to attend the best schools in the country, but papa had to give her the wheels as incentive.

"Nice ride," I said sliding up to the new GT, running my finger along the shiny paint job. Black. To match Amelia's raven hair. That even now, in muggy ass air was shinny and perfectly smooth. I had no idea how she did it.

"Thanks! Daddy finally came through." She said with relief, as if it were life or death that she'd ever get to have her mustang convertible. (Her dream car since she was five.) I had to hold back a snicker. Amelia sometimes just didn't get that most of the kids in our town didn't have daddies with such deep pockets as hers. Or hell, Daddies period.

I smoothed my hair again, "Come on, lets get in outta the heat. I swear, this damn humidity will be the death of me. Thank god for your father."

"I know, right!" She responded, and we strolled out of the parking lot, off to the front entrance of our elegant but decaying school.

Amelia's dad had paid for every classroom to be installed with state of the art, eco-friendly air conditioning systems two years ago, after Amelia had "passed out" from supposed heat stroke. The school nurse back then was a new hot med student from a local college, doing his one year requisite internship. Amelia had passed out on purpose for the sole reason of being sent to the new nurse's office. She said she wanted to "introduce" herself to him, and "welcome" him to the school. She had worn a special outfit that day for him even. Amelia, was thorough, if anything.

After about an hour of just Amelia and the hot nurse in the office. In which time he was "reviving" her, Amelia's father called every Lowes Home Center within a 100 mile radius, ordering air conditioners for the entire school, to be delivered that day. If the school board didn't consent to him having them installed, he'd sue for reckless endangerment of his child.

Needless to say, our school had been the coolest one in the state ever since. Literally.

The hot male nurse on the other hand, was fired a month later, when he was caught screwing a junior in the back seat of his car at the inlet. Amelia had been crushed.

For about a minute. But I promised to take her to see the fishing boats come in that night. All the young college boys got jobs on the boats during the different seasons, and I knew for a fact that "slumming it" as she called it, would always bring Amelia out of a sour mood. That night she met a guy nicknamed Marky Mark, due to a certain anitomical similarity to Mr. Walhberg. The two weeks that followed were the happiest of Amelia's life.

I was always good at defusing the drama that Amelia would cook up. The girl did love attention. But, this was high school after all. Our teen years would be nothing without a little drama.

And that was exactly what we saw, as we all made our way towards the main stairs of the school that morning. I knew it was going to happen before he even did. Damn boys and their untied shoelaces. I elbowed Amelia, she had been watching a group of boys playing frisbee on the front lawns. She turned her head just in time.

Bill Compton, the definition of your classic "shitty first lay" and "ancient history" combined, was climbing up the stairs, not paying attention to anything. Idiot. I watched as Bill missed a step, after tripping up on his own shoelace. Guess his mother never taught him to double knot?

His arms flung out, attempting in vain to steady himself as his started to fall forward, unable to control his balance. What he grabbed onto was the leather jacket - Really? In this weather? Come on - of the self inflicted outsider. Eric Northman.

A collective gasp was heard by all who were close enough to see what was happening, right before their eyes.

Ohhh shit.

Everyone fell silent, but it didn't take more than a second. Eric had grabbed onto his hand and took advantage of Bill's forward flowing momentum, by flinging him further into the air and out of his way. It was actually kind of graceful. Eric never stopped moving. If I wasn't so shocked by the crunching noise Bill's body made on the landing, I would have been amazed by Eric's ninja-like skills.

Like most high school kids, on the first day, nothing can hold their attention. Everyone's mind was somewhere else. So, the moment came and it went. Like the jaded beings we were, by the time Bill cried out in pain, most of us had moved on.

Bill was not without his little entourage. For some reason, beyond me, he had a horde of willing freshmen, always vying for his attentions. Well, they'd certainly get them now. He had about three little skanks around him by the the time we got up the stairs. It didn't even cross my mind to worry. Not that I would have. Again, ancient history.

The bell rang and everyone groaned in the hallways like it was the soundtrack to their deaths. Amelia and I parted ways, having different homerooms and I stalked off to start the day. The sooner it started, the sooner it would end. I kept my spirits up by repeating...

My last first day, my last first day, my last first day.

When I entered my assigned homeroom, any good spirits I had managed to muster up in the 30 seconds it took me to get there, died. The infamous Eric Northman was occupying a seat in the back row. His arms were swung back behind his head and his eyes were closed. Ear buds, shoved in his ears.

Kill me, just kill me.

If he wasn't so good looking it'd be easier to hate the bastard. He had lost the leather jacket, which was ironic since we were now all in air conditioned heaven, but now I could see that he was wearing a simple white t-shirt that accentuated his impressive chest and arm muscles. Boy was toned like a mother fucker. It was annoying. To top it off, he had this fabulous alabaster skin - which I'm sure he did nothing to maintain - that matched the pale straw color of his long shaggy hair. Paired with a set of piercing ice blue eyes and you have one good looking bastard on your hands. And that's exactly what I didn't want.

God, why me? I had never liked Eric Northman. He had always rubbed me the wrong way.

Unlike the rest of my classmates, all of whom I'd grown up with in our relatively small town, Eric had only moved here five years back. Normally, that'd be more than enough time to get to know someone, have them assimilate into the town, and socialize with the rest of the people living in it, right?

Wrong. Eric Northman hadn't done any of that. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. He wasn't swayed by the fact that he didn't seem to have any close friendships, even though that would probably depress the hell out of any normal person. In fact he seemed liberated by his lack of personal connections.

He didn't follow any accepted social practice, ever. He didn't give a shit, and some people loved him because of it. In fact, most of the underclassmen in the school secretly idolized him for his total lack of giving-a-shit. I on the other hand, hated him for it.

The principal came over the all call after we had all sat down in our respective new seats. I had successfully snagged a chair up front, away from the hell cat in the back of the room. The principal's scratchy morning voice told us all to stand and salute the flag, as the pledge was chanted throughout the school on the shitty loud speakers.

Senior year and we were still saluting the flag. Some things never changed.

I glanced back, I couldn't help myself, curious to see if Eric had actually stood like I knew he wouldn't. He didn't, I was right.

He was lounging across three seats in the back of the room, his long legs draped over the desks in a haphazard elegant way. He saw me staring and gave me a wink as the pledge was winding down. I sneered at him. He had a cigarette behind his ear and brought it to his lips.

My mouth dropped open. Seriously? He wouldn't dare! No, in fact he most certainly would.

I couldn't believe it. It was like watching a trainwreck. I couldn't look away.

"... and to the republic..."

Out came his zippo next, he flicked open the metal top and gave me a look, daring me to snitch. Like I would ever stop this insanity from happening. But still, this was just dumb.

"... for which it stands..."

"Don't do it!" I mouthed to him. He merely leered back at me.

"... one nation..."

He rasped the lighter to life with his thumb.

"... under God..."

That was the kicker. Flick. He lit the cigarette, pulling in a drag as the end of it glowed red from the flame, his strong cheekbones becoming even prominent as he inhaled.

People were still saying the pledge around us. Only a few had caught on to the smell of smoke in the room. Eric's eyes flashed with devious intent the next second. My hand dropped from its position over my heart at that point, and I fully turned to face the back of the room. A few kids followed suit. The teacher was oblivious.

What was he doing now?

He shot up in one fluid movement. Standing on the chair of his desk, paired with his intimidating height, he almost reached the high ceilings of the old school. He gave me a wink - I winced - before turning his face up and blowing a steady stream of smoke towards the sprinkler system above him.

"... for liberty, and justice for all." At that, the room exploded into a monsoon of water. Well, at least I knew now that the ancient sprinkler system worked, as I was instantly drenched in freezing artificial rain. Four years and never once had I seen it kick into action.

Alarms and screams sounded throughout the school. People grabbed purses and notebooks, finding anything that could cover them from the spray. I just stood in disbelief. Any hope I had for beating the humidity in the fight against my hair now seemed futile. I was soaked.

We hadn't even finished homeroom, and Eric Northman had managed to have the entire school evacuated before the beginning of first period.

A/N: Anyone ever see Cry Baby? Well that freakin song of "High School Hell Cats" has been in my head for the past two days straight. UGH! I couldn't concentrate on Northman's, I had to write this and get it out of my system.

Hopefully you enjoyed bad boy Eric? Would he be anything less?

More of bitchy Sookie will come out later. I have a bunch of little bits and pieces written for this, thanks to the game on the forum.

Review and tell me what you think. I am after all, nothing more than a review whore.

Ta ta!