I walked alone though the corridors, trying desperately to get to class before anyone else started to come in. I had always been bullied during classes and in the corridors. Hell, I've always been bullied outside college! But I was used to it. Bruises on my limbs, back and stomach didn't hurt so much any longer, wounds often were like cutting up a scar: it hurts a bit at the beginning, but then you end up feeling numb, nothing at all. I had given up on crying, nothing was worth crying anymore.

I reached Mr. Jackson's geography class and knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

I slowly opened it and stepped inside the room, running my fingers nervously through my (H/L) and teased (H/C) hair.

"Excuse me Mr. Jackson, but may I stay inside until classes start please?" I asked politely and in a quiet voice.

"Oh! Miss Jefferson! Of course you may stay here. But why? Normally kids prefer to hang out with their friends than over with me," He joked.

I couldn't help to laugh quietly. Friends... ha. As if someone like me could make friends. With a brother like Thomas and his very loud mouth it was impossible to walk up to someone, say my name and have them asking: 'Hey, you are Thomas' sister right?' and then hear them rant about how good (or  bad) my brother was. I don't understand how he has any friends. Luckily for both, we hadn't met here yet; we don't have the same classes in any period, and I prefer to be out in the library or somewhere private than hanging out with a huge crowd like my egocentric brother liked to do.

Suddenly, I heard the door creak open and close back down again. Mr. Jackson greeted the newcomer.

"Good morning Mr. Laurens! Would you like to take a seat?" He asked kindly.

"Thank you Mr. Jackson."

He looked around the room before locking eyes with me. My own orbs widened as I practically checked him out: Short black boots up to his ankle, tight jeans, a turquoise sweater with a turtle photo on it, headphones around his neck and silky cinnamon-coloured hair tied up in a loose ponytail. His chocolate brown eyes were kind and sympathetic and his smile was the most enlightening thing I had seen in quite a long time; his face was also peppered with freckles, which only made him more adorable. His shy voice cut me off my thoughts.

"J-John Laurens. A pleasure to meet you," He stuttered, putting his hand out.

I shook it softly.

"(Y/N) Jefferson," I muttered as timidly as him.

Then he smiled. My heart fluttered for a second as I felt my cheeks coloured a bright scarlet tint.

"A pleasure. May I sit beside you?"

I nodded, and so he did. He didn't seem to know who my brother was, or maybe he was oblivious to my last name, but I liked that someone could talk to me without mentioning Tom. What's more to say, I had fallen for him.

~Time skip 2 months later~

I noticed yet another small piece of paper come under my dorm door. Lately, I had been receiving threatening and extremely humiliating notes, with invitations to die and all sorts of things. I mentally sighed and walked over to open it, to see if for once they were somewhat original. Nevertheless, when I opened it, my (E/C) widened slightly. It read:

Dear (Y/N),

I know you may not be aware of who am I, but I heard you were receiving slightly... nasty letters recently, and I wanted to make up for what those assholes of guys were doing. I myself didn't know you were being upset in that way, and (If I may say) you have my eternal and whole sympathy. Nobody deserves to go through what you have endured, so I proposed myself to write this letter to make you feel appreciated. I know what it feels like to be bullied and not accepted for who you are, but you can't let this break you. I have seen how you work, and how you are, and I am delighted to see you don't let those bastards' words bring you down.

You are sincerely the most amazing girl... hell, you're the most amazing person I've ever met, and never let anyone tell you otherwise. One thing I ask for you is that you let me be your friend. If something worries you, text me, or send me a note and I will always be there for you no matter what. Put them under room 244's door, and address them to Jackie. I will receive them surely.

Hope this helped your confidence

Your friend (hopefully) Jackie.

Underneath, a set of numbers written in scrawny writing. For the first time in months, my lips managed to break into a smile: it wasn't a very big one, but it was sincere.

Dear Jackie,

I'm glad you wrote, and I'm glad you... actually asked to be my friend. To tell you the truth I've never had friends before. They all back-stabbed me. But there's something in you that makes me... trust you I guess. I... I'm sorry I can't write anymore, but I'm nervous you see. But if I can do anything to help you with any stuff, just... well... text me, or send me another note. You really lifted my spirit with this.

Thank you

xxx-xxx-xxx

(Y/N)

I opened my dorm room cautiously, looked around, and then rushed two floors down to find Jackie's room. The corridor was deserted, lucky me, and so I put the note under the room and rushed upstairs.

~Another two months later (sorry for the time skips, I'm l a z y  ) ~

Jackie and I had frequently kept in contact, and John Laurens had talked to me more, he had even introduced me to his friends Alexander, Lafayette and Hercules. (Shh! She don't know okay!?) We had been together more time, but the closest to me was by far John. Needless to say my crush on him had increased immensely, but I was too shy for anything, so we stayed as friends.

Walking outside of Mr. Isbell's music class and towards the lunch hall, I heard some laughter behind me.

"Hey girl! Aren't you going to go with your friends? It's no time for a girl to go through here. She could get... hurt," and with that, I felt myself get picked up and pinned against the lockers.

"Let me go! Lee you bastard, let go of me!" I screamed, desperately trying to break free and punch Charles Lee at the same time.

"Tsch, tsch darlin', just stop moving, that way you won't get hurt."

"I'll get hurt either way," I barked. I was already familiar with this.

Lee chuckled. "Good point," and threw a fist at my stomach, making me wince in pain.

A couple of blows later, my arms and legs were weak, and my head throbbing badly. Charles let me collapse down to the floor, tears streaming down my eyes and making me whimper slightly at the stinging of the cuts he had done to my face.

"Who's the brave one now sweetheart?" He laughed evilly.