Chapter 1

Brad sat quietly at his desk as Professor Radcliffe started handing back the tests. Nearly bald, but with still with whisps of brown hair and sporting a thick, buhy mustache, the Calculus professor reminded him of nothing less than a bespeckled, bald walrus. On any other day, that might have earned a chuckle, but Brad couldn't help but feel a little anxious about the paper which would shortly be handed to him.

He hadn't put nearly as much time and effort into studying, or even paying attention in class, as he should have. Unusual for him, but that described his entire life since Jenny had moved into the seat to his right.

His eyes began to drift in that direction, and he forced himself to keep his eyes on the Professor as the man called out name. Pepperfield had just been called, and it wouldn't be long until Southerland...

After a few seconds, his gaze slid sideways again, and he found himself looking once more at the angel Jennifer Lee.

People usually said celestial beings wore white, but today this one wore a loose, light-blue dress shirt and a tan, pleated skirt that reached down past her knees. Positively chaste compared to the other girls, who more often than not were more inclined to wear their skirts up to mid-thigh, let alone mid-calf. Conservative as it was, it couldn't quite hide her voluptuous curves. The soft swell of her breasts (probably c cups, he imagined) were clearly visible against her shirt, and her perfectly formed bottom was just as evident when she walked. Some guys liked them bigger, he knew, but they looked absolutely perfect on her petit frame and choice of clothing.

Not that many of those "other girls" were willing to admit it. He knew they whispered behind her back, or sometimes, right in her face, about the "fashion-blind" among them.

Bunch of vapid, conniving, self-centered bi-

"Southerland ... SOUTHERLAND!"

Radcliffe's voice snapped him back to reality, and he looked up as the teacher stopped in front of his desk, eyebrow cocked. "Yes?" Brad asked, a trifle unsteadily.

The professor shook his head. "Mr Southerland, I don't quite know what it is that has you so distracted of late." His eyes glanced speculatively towards Jenny, then back to him again. "All I can say, is that if you don't want to keep getting grades like these," he continued, handing Brad a marked sheet of paper, "you should put a little more of your usual effort into your work."

Fuck. Brad could hear snickers from the desks around him as he accepted the paper, grimacing at the crimson C+ marking the page. With this, his grade would drop to a B, his first so far this year, and he knew his parents would be pissed. They expected a lot out of him, and he would have normally agreed, but now...

"Lee..."

Brad looked up as Radcliffe stopped in front of Jenny now. She nodded as he called her name, watching nervously as he laid her test out in front of her. She looked down, and she beamed as she saw the A-.

"Keep up the good work, Jenny," Professort Radcliffe went on to say.

She nodded enthusiastically as he turned away before turning to Brad with a smile. She lifted the paper up so he could see her score, mouthing the words "Thank you," and he smiled back a bit in reply.

It was better than her last B, and far better than the D+ that had driven her to ask him for tutoring over a month ago. Her mom paid him $10 an hour to help her with her classes, and he'd been more than happy to oblige. Not only did he get to spend time with Jenny, but he'd built up a tidy sum which now lay in a shoebox under his bed.

Those hours of studious companionship were both the most nerve-wracking and gratifying times for him. On the one hand, his physical proximity, not to mention the satisfaction of helping her work through a problem. On the other...

Brad was a nerd. He knew that, and it didn't bother him, but it also meant the same straight-A status and bookishness that had led her to seek him out made him more than a bit of a loner, and socially inept to boot. The few times he had to talk to his classmates, and especially Jenny, left him feeling awkard and anxious about sticking his foot in his mouth.

Thankfully, Jenny (usually) didn't seem to mind his occasional timidity, and she seemed quite grateful for the help. Which, Brad had reluctantly decided, she had needed. It wasn't that she was slow or stupid; quite the contrary, in fact. But she had a lot of trouble grasping the basics of things like grammar, and especially math, an obstacle she still found difficult to overcome. Thankfully, she also had a serious go-to attitude that kept her bashing her head against the concepts until she understood them.

I'm glad all the hard work paid off, he thought as she turned back to read over the corrections. His own lay on his desk; they could wait till later. For now, he sat quietly and unobstrusively watching her out of the corner of his eye.

She smiled easily, brushing the errant hairs out of the side of her face. The left side, of course. Her hair draped down past her shoulders in sleek, auburn waves. And surprisingly, across the right side of her face. Surprising, that is, unless you already knew what was behind that barrier. The one thing that hair had been specifically styled to conceal. The thing that had earned her the scorn, or worse, patronizing sympathy, of the most popular cliques in school.

The Seven inch long,, half-inch wide scar that ran from above her ear, across her eye, terminating just below her nose.

No one talked about it in front of her. The last person to actually ask her about it, who'd actually had the gall to brush her hair aside to get a better look, had ended up swallowing his own teeth. And it was common knowledge that only her mother's unceasing harassment of the Principal that had led to them declaring the boy's action "provocation."

That much had won her his attention, but the way conducted herself, as if the entire school didn't know her secret, impressed him even more. She took it all in stride, mostly. It was only when the selfsame fashionistas that derided her clothes started to talk about "half off face value," loudly, and often right in front of her, that he saw her front weaken.

Bunch of vapid, conniving, self-centered bi-

Inanis turned to Castus, incredulous. "Him?"