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Her first day at East Gotham high was not what Jane Corrigan would have dubbed a roaring success.

After the incident in the hall, she found it difficult to ignore the whispers and giggles that floated around her, groups of absolute strangers getting a true kick out of what she considered to have been a despicable joke.

She ate lunch in solitude and the only time she was forced to speak was when she had to answer to roll call. No one bothered to introduce themselves or even to speak directly to her, but rather to point and laugh conspicuously when they passed her by.

"There's Ichabod Crane's new girlfriend!"

"Hey, look, its Mrs. Johnny Scarecrow."

It was not the gossip or the whispers that made it difficult to move past what had happened, nor was it embarrassment that kept her cheeks flushed red - it was anger.

The image of that poor boy's blue eyes filling with such rage and devastation as they pulled what was obviously a familiar gag would not leave Jane's mind. The defeated slump of his shoulders as he warned her not to speak to him was too heartbreaking to be dismissed.

She was not exactly the queen of the social scene at her former school, though it was clear that Peckham High had distinctly less bite than East Gotham, even on a bad day.

Fortunately, the rest of the day passed without much incident; aside from the running joke she had turned into, her presence was rarely acknowledged, and she had no further confrontation with either Sherry or her small army of lookalikes.

She heaved an audible sigh of relief when the last bell rang, indicating that it was finally time to make the journey home. She gathered her things from her locker and felt a weight lift as she quickly exited the building.

She walked lazily and counted the cracks in the sidewalk as she walked, getting to twenty before she recognized the lanky figure quite a ways ahead of her.

She debated it for only a moment before picking up the pace to a light jog in order to catch up with him, padding up alongside him slightly out of breath.

"Jonathan, hi," she greeted him, trying to cover her erratic breathing. She was anything but out of shape, but one of his long strides covered twice the distance of her own.

He turned sharply, surprised by hearing that name, she supposed; not once had she heard a single person refer to him as such thought the day, despite how often he was mentioned.

"Are you following me?" he asked tersely, eyebrows furrowing. She laughed softly.

"I live this way. Off Berkeley Street, a few blocks up," she explained, dismissing his stalking theory.

"Right," he answered shortly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans as the wind began to blow. "So, what is it? What do you want?"

"I wanted to be sure you were okay. Y'know, after what happened," she gingerly approached the subject, toeing at the ground with her sneaker.

It was his turn to laugh, although the sound was anything but lighthearted.

"Do you honestly think that was the first time that happened to me?" he asked rhetorically, that same look of pain coming over him. "Besides, it was you everyone was talking about all day. I told you not to talk to me."

"Hey, Mrs. Scarecrow isn't as bad as Metal Mouth, I guess," she answered. At his dubious look, she flashed him a smile comprised of very straight teeth. "Three years of braces. I just got them off a few weeks ago."

He looked at her then, scrutinizing not only the words she was saying, but everything laced carefully between them -- I'm not like them, I promise.

He regarded her carefully for a long, silent moment before the corners of his lips turned upwards ever so slightly in an approximation of a smile.

"You do realize they'll only endeavor to get more... creative with their insults if you keep talking to me," he warned her, though she ready guessed as much.

It seemed as though he was speaking theoretically rather than from experience however, as Jane was unsure whether or not Jonathan had ever had a friend up until that point. He reminded her of a wounded animal in such a way as another human being never had.

"I know," she answered honestly, beginning to mosey along the sidewalk to continue the walk home. "But I don't want to be friends with people like that, anyways."

"That isn't very sensible, trading a medium to large social group for the company of one stranger, blindly," he commented offhandedly. She shrugged.

"I've got good intuition about people. That's what my mom used to say," she answered, feeling more confident in her decision than was likely practical, though Jane had never been much for practicality.

"We'll see, I suppose," he said, still sounding plenty unsure.

"I guess we will."

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