A/N: Yes, I ship Treebros, and yes, I ship boyf riends, but in order to make this work, I can't just dive into that. If I do decide to go that route, it'll only happen at the end, so don't worry boyf ans, there's still hope. Also, any crossover relationships I write here are purley platonic, with the exception of Carrie, though her feelings are not truly reciprocated.

Of course. Of frigging course. Of course the first thing Zoe did at a new school was safe that girls life. Connor thought that maybe things would change this year, maybe people would like him, but no. All he was now was, "The brother of Zoe." He stomped along the hallways, gritting his teeth, when he literally bumped into two guys, just standing right outside the auditorium.

Connor looked up, then down, then up again, (one of the guys was taller than him, the other was shorter,) and rolled his eyes. The idiots were wearing Westerburg letterman jackets. Genius, guys. Genius. The shorter one, (shorter by only a bit,) grabbed the neck of Connor's jacket and looked him in the eye.

"Watch where you're going, Hot Topic." He said, trying to be intimidating. But Connor wasn't any stranger to intimidation. He rolled his eyes again.

The taller boy laughed. "Aw, look here Kurt! Hot Topic ain't afraid! He's got his nail polish to protect him!"

A small crowd had started to gather around them. Standing amongst the spectators were Veronica, sighing at Kurt and Ram's predictability, and wedged in between two girls with their cellphones out, was tiny and excitable Christine Canigula.

"Yeah, just like how you two have your precious jackets to protect you." Connor said flatly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ram shouted.

"It means that you two are so damm dependant on those jackets that you would wear them to a rival school. You're either really gutsy, or really stupid. I think it's the latter." He shrugged.

"I'll show you just how gutsy I can be, freak! Hold him for me!" 

Kurt turned Connor around to face Ram, holding his arms back. Ram was about to throw a punch, but Connor dodged him, sending Ram's fist into Kurt's face, and dropping Connor. Kurt ran up behind him, but he turned around and kicked Kurt's foot, sending him sprawling on the ground.

Ram stepped back as Connor eyed him flatly. Christine, still buried in the crowd, stared intently at him. She didn't like watching people fight but... There was something about this guy.

Meanwhile, Veronica was having flashbacks. It was almost exactly like how she met J.D. Something in her just... Snapped. There, right in front of everyone, she walked straight up to him, and...

SMACK!

Connor put a hand to his cheek. "Oh my God what did I just do?" She asked herself.

"I should be asking you that!" Connor shouted. "Why did you smack me!?"

"I ugh, I mean, uh, uh, I- Oh my God." She finally spat out that one phrase, pointing at Connor's cheek. "My ring, it uh-"

Connor touched his cheek. There was a thin trail of blood on it. "What the-" But when he looked up, Veronica had already run away. The crowd, unimpressed, started to leave, all except for one girl. Christine. She walked right up to him.

"You okay there?" She asked, reaching up to his cheek. Connor batted her hand away.

"I'm fine." He said, turning away. Cristine grabbed his face and pulled him back to get a closed look. Connor tried to get out, but for such a small girl, she sure did have a strong grip.

"No, no you're not. Here, I'll help clean you up." She forcefully grabbed his wrist, and pulled him over to the cafeteria washroom. It was wheelchair accessible, so it was also unisex. She sat him down on the (closed) toilet, and grabbed a handful of paper towels.

She lathered them with soap, and rinsed them with water. "Now hold still."

"Listen, I'm fine-" Christine grabbed Connor's face, unintentionally forcing it into some weird pucker-mouth formation, and slowly dabbed at his cheek. Needless to say, he was kind of freaked out by this girl's relentless kindness- It was almost unhealthy.

She let go of Connor's face, allowing him to rub his sore cheeks. While Christine searched her bag for a band-aid, Connor watched her.

"You know... I just beat up a guy. Why are you helping me?" He asked.

"Because you were there, and you were hurt. Why wouldn't I?" She said.

"It's not like we're friends." He folded his arms as Christine applied the band-aid.

"You know, you could change that you were a little nicer. People would be kind to you if you just tried to be more nice." She sighed. "I know your type. You wallow in the idea that you don't have any friends, but you also don't do anything to change it."

Connor looked down. He didn't want to admit it, but part of him knew she was right. Christine sighed and extended her hand to him. "I'm Christine."

Hesitantly, Connor shook it. "Well, I'm, I'm Connor." He said awkwardly. This is how nice works, right?

"Nice to meet you. How about this; I sit with you for one lunch. If you can be nice to anyone that comes by the table, I'll never bother you again." She said.

Connor smiled. "Oh, deal." On the outside, it was just a challenge, bug in reality, Connor knew the truth; he might be able to make a friend here after all.