Disclaimer: If I owned these characters and plot I'd be a rich woman. But I'm not.

A/N: Sorry about the wait. I've been working on this one for a long while. I needed to get through this entire monumental chapter.

Please And Thank You

After narrowly getting away from "Rev" and Petey she twisted and turned trying to find her way to the Biology class room that was listed first on her schedule. She was disappointed almost about how Rev was on the football team. She knew that when she signed up to play he would side with his other outraged teammates. Teammates like Petey.

It was strange with Petey. His obnoxious attitude was almost endearing, a refreshing jump from Rev's obviously polite attitude. It reminded her of an ex-boyfriend she'd left in LA who had spent the entire time they'd known each other antagonizing her. Petey carried the same aura of him and it made her smile slightly at the thought. It was nice, annoying but nice, to find something similar to home in the new foreign place.

"Hi I'm Sullivan Michigan and I'm new." She said to the extremely tall man hovering in front of the large mahogany teacher's desk. He was holding a stack of papers and attempting to take the role. But the class was crazy loud, with people perched on desks and talking at all sorts of volumes. He whipped around as if she'd just snuck up behind him.

"Ah yes I got your information yesterday. Umm there is an open desk in the very back, table on the right. SIT DOWN MR. JONES!" She blanched at the sight of Petey Jones, standing on top of one of the desks and whistling at blushing girls all around him. So he was a playboy too, she thought frowning as he blew a kiss at her. She started to turn to go around along the wall instead of passing Petey but instead found herself with a face-full of chest.

Looking up from the ground her eyes were caught in the most startlingly bright blue eyes she'd ever seen.

"Sorry," He muttered limping past her slowly. His blonde hair glinted in the sunlight from the tall classroom windows. She watched over her shoulder as he silently pushed his way through the crowd of students. Mere seconds before the entire class had seemed crazy, but now they went silent, bowing their heads and parting to let him through.

Even Petey was silent still standing on the table but silently avoiding the boy's eyes.

She wondered silently why everyone was acting like God had just walked into the room. He didn't look like he was too popular, so it wasn't mere friendly respect that was keeping them from bothering him. He wasn't catching anyone's eyes or smiling at anyone. In all actuality he looked like a pained war veteran who'd seen and gone through things he shouldn't have, what with the hard set of his jaw and the cold icy color of his eyes. His entire stature screamed strong. He looked like even a tornado wouldn't knock him over. But he still held this air, the limp maybe being the source of it, of fragility.

The class started back up as soon as he sat down and Sully sighed. He'd sat down at the far back table on the right. The table the teacher had assigned her too. She wasn't intimidated. But uncomfortable, he didn't look like the type of guy who enjoyed people or chatting. He most certainly didn't look like he wanted to share a table with her or anyone for that matter.

But she forced herself forward, walking past Petey as if he wasn't there, and to the table. Sidling around him like a baby cub around the male lion she placed her bag on the floor by the table and slipping into her chair without moving it. Her hair was still tied up and she wished it was down, to put a shield between her and the intimidating guy next to her but it would be to obvious for her to do it now. So she sat there, exposed and feeling awkward as the first day of kindergarten.

Fumbling with her binder she nodded to the teacher as he passed by her table, dropping a small stack of papers on her desk. Flipping through the papers she saw a syllabus, curriculum and a lab safety contract to be signed. She pulled one of the pencil's out of her hair and filled in the necessary boxes then signed messily in cursive. Her signature was unreadable, and it wasn't ever going to change. She wondered how she could have such neat print but have chicken scratch cursive.

Finally it seemed the teacher, Mr. Goleta, seemed to gain control of the class and people sat fidgeting in their seats and conversations dying slowly. As Goleta took role, people whispered feverishly trying to fit an entire conversation into a minute or so. Sully sat silently, watching her table partner anxiously out the side of her eye. She wanted to introduce herself but he was staring down at his own hand as if it was the most interesting thing on Earth, pointedly avoiding looking at her.

"Ok for today were studying Human Biology. Not as in reproductive ways." Mr. Goleta pointedly said smiling at the fake disappointed faces. "But as in the way of human reactions. For the rest of class I want you take each other's pulse, if you don't know how I'll come around and show you how, and have a conversation. Ask each other questions and answer in lies and honest answers. Try to guess which is true. When your done I want you to write me down four sentences on a piece of paper on the differences of how truth and lies affect the blood pressure. Get going."

Sully wanted to disappear through the floor. On her first day, sitting next to the only guy who hadn't tried to speak to her, she had to speak and hold his wrist for a hour long class. What was she going to say to him? Her blood pressure was high enough without her lying.

"I'm Gerry Bertier." His voice might as well have been God's as the timbre ran over Sully. Her chest froze up and she averted her eyes, staring down at the table instead of him. "Your new." With that she looked up and met his eyes. They were gorgeous, that she had to say, the blue was sparkling and deep and she couldn't look away.

"Umm yeah just moved to town." She, pushing away the girly awkwardness that had filled her moments before, grabbed his arm and pushed up the wrist of his jacket to get to his wrist. Thankfully he wasn't wearing a watch or anything so she pressed two fingers into his wrist and waited to find the pulse. And there it was, a wet pounding sound so consistent it rocked her to her very core. She'd always loved heartbeats, her own, her father's when she'd sleep on his chest. The heartbeat was always consistent and strong and it was partially why she liked running. Some people didn't like running because their heart is pounding so hard, she enjoyed the sound.

His fingers were warm when he carefully pushed them into her wrist. His skin on hers sent shocks through her arm and she held her breath. His fingers were rough and his entire hand was giant next to her own. His monster hand looked like it could snap hers in half.

"Where'd you move from?" He asked unconsciously leaning closer to her. She wanted to look away, gather her bearings and her mind again, but the blue of his eyes wouldn't let her. So instead she stared at him as if she'd never seen a boy before. He didn't repeat himself or make any gesture or move to get an answer, he just waited.

"Umm… Los Angeles. My dad's a historian and wanted to get out of the big city." She said nervously, her eyes finally darting away from him and to the other pairs. Most of them were friends who, in their friendship, had simply struck a conversation throwing the instructions to the wind.

"What happened to your arm?" His voice was suddenly alarmed, making her heart rise further when her wrist was abandoned and her shirt was brushed up a bit.

"My god." He whispered his thumb brushing up a pool of blood. She gasped, as he lifted her shirt further to find a long, maybe four inch, deep cut. She hadn't known she had the cut and it didn't hurt, but she groaned anyway, though for a different reason. His hand was warm and rough on her smooth skin and the contrast excited her body, though unwillingly.

"Umm I don't know. I didn't know it was there." She said moving away from his hand. He hadn't bothered to move it and it was starting to make her uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and wiped his hand on his jeans. The cut on her arm was starting to burn now that she even knew it was there. Burn really badly.

"How do you not know that your arm is slashed open?" His voice had a tint of panic in it as if he was actually worried about her. He didn't even know her name! She couldn't object before he was standing and she was up out of her chair and being dragged out of the room. Petey wolf whistled and cringed when they both spun and sent him a death glare.

"Shut your mouth! Shut up!" She froze and looked at him, noticing how in sync they were. He smiled and grabbed her wrist again, his hand easily diverting her wrist easily. He dragged her through the loud class, obliviously ignoring the stares and whispers as he shuffled them to the front where Mr. Goleta stood watching them.

"Mr. Bertier, Miss. Michigan. What can I do for you?" He asked crossing his arms across his chest.

"She's hurt, may I bring her to the clinic, sir?" Gerry said carefully avoiding Sullivan's eyes.

"Of course Gerry, Sullivan be more careful with yourself. I'll call you up."


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