A/N: As I said in the summary, this is SLASH, so if you no likey, there's this wonderful thing called the back button.

"Mark, here's the new student, Roger Davis. I'm sure you'll make him feel welcome." The principal, Ms. Grahm, motioned towards the boy sitting in the chair by her office. He had long, mangy, dirty-blond hair that looked like he hadn't combed it since 9th grade. He was wearing tight, leather, rock-and-roll pants with an over sized v-neck sweater on top. Very odd. Not what Scarsdale High was used to. I took a deep breath, then walked over to introduce myself. But just as I drew in another breath to begin, he stood up so that his face was right in front of mine, nearly knocking me over. Then an overwhelming scent of gasoline mixed with some sort of musky cologne hit me. There was also something else I couldn't quite identify. For some reason it took me back to the days when my parents forced me to take violin lessons, even though I was horrible at it. I have absolutely no musical talent. Well, except for maybe my voice, but no way am I singing for anybody. Anyways, the smell almost knocked me over again. I stumbled backwards while he chuckled, but helped me regain my balance. I forced myself to smile, somewhat awkwardly, and said, "Hi, I'm Mark Cohen, and I'm supposed to be showing you around the school." He chuckled again at my awkwardness, and said very confidently,

"Hello Mark Cohen, thanks for showing me around. I must admit, I am a little disappointed. I thought you were my stripper. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to reschedule." He laughed, but my cheeks burned with embarrassment. I tried to smile, but I'm sure my face looked like I had just swallowed a habenero pepper. I hastily turned around, trying to save at least some of my dignity.

"Okay, lets begin the tour," I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear me.

Luckily, the tour went without incident. When it was over, I was both relieved and a tiny bit sad. He was pretty awesome, but I found myself stuttering and blushing like crazy for the whole tour. I didn't know what had come over me. Normally I can go through tours without a hitch. I sure it wasn't the boy that had me all flustered. He was going to be in four of my classes. If it truly was him that was making me act so weird, then I'd be in some trouble.


I walked away from the office laughing my ass off. That kid, Mark Cohen, was really amusing. Every odd comment I made had him blushing like a pre-teen girl around her first crush. Wait. That didn't come out right. What I meant was that he was awkward. I couldn't wait for the classes I had with him. I wouldn't torture the guy too badly, just enough to make him uncomfortable. And I would stop if it really, really bothered him!

Oh yes, it sure was fun having Mark in my classes. The other day in history, our teacher was droning on and on about some kid she used to have in her class back when she taught elementary. Mark was sitting in front of me, so I decided to make the class more interesting. I slowly snuck my foot up to the back of his chair, and kicked him hard in his butt. He let out a surprised squeal, and Mrs. S (no one could remember her incredibly long name) stopped in the middle of her sentence, and turned to Mark. He was now blushing furiously, and looked ready to kill me.

"Mr. Cohen, what are you doing over there?" She shook her pudgy head angrily and narrowed her beady eyes. Mark's blush moved to the back of his neck and ears. He stuttered hilariously,

"Oh, um, M.... Mrs. S, I... I just.... I just thought I..... felt a spider on my arm." I've got to admit, he's good at thinking on his feet.

"Okay then, mind if I get back to my story now?" She raised her eyebrows at him. Mark just nodded sheepishly.

Man, that was one of the best class periods I've ever had. I feel bad for the guy, but damn, he's funny.


Roger was really getting on my nerves. He did everything in his power to embarrass me. It wasn't funny! I was afraid my face would turn permanently red. But, I hadn't confronted him about it. Maybe it's because you don't want him to stop, you like the attention, the little voice in the back of my head prompted. At first I was like, no way, I hate it! But as I thought about it, it made more sense. But why? I don't like attention. I was always that kid in the corner reading or thinking. I did not go seeking attention. Also, why him?

These ponderings were tossed in the back of my mind. I had more important things to think about, like school. Ever since Roger came to Scarsdale, I couldn't concentrate in class. Even the classes I didn't have Roger in were spent spacing out or doodling. And the doodles were always of Roger or a guitar! My thoughts always revolved around Roger. Would Roger like this sweater? Does Roger like this band? I wonder what Roger is doing right now. He was always there! Making my pulse race and my face flush. I'd never felt this way before, it was.... weird.