A/N: Hey all!! I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but this is the final revised version of "Eyes of the Tiger"! It's complete, for all of you who have been keeping track. Thanks to all, especially the blue eyed Tiger. *stage wink* Please read and review, I hope you all enjoy! Flames are welcome, but don't be too harsh please! I have a sensitive mind. And big friends. Watch it.

-Midnight

Disclaimer: Pink's "Don't Let Me Get Me" is...Pink's. Not mine.

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"Eyes of the Tiger": Chapter 1: Trap

By: Midnight

The first day of school at Lucky Strike High. Students fill the school from every side, bumping, pushing, jostling to get to lockers. Seniors loiter outside, showing off cars and comparing summer tans. Junkies flick their last cigarette butts to the ground behind the school, hoping not to be caught by overbearing administration. Being a freshman bites.

I shove my way through the overcrowded lobby to a less occupied hallway. Pushing my inky black hair out of my eyes, I gasp as I'm knocked forward from behind. I turn angrily to face the person who has just topped off my already wonderful morning.

"Do you mind?" I shout in their face.

"Oh, hey, Violet...what's shakin'?"

It's him. I glare at the boy through my annoyingly thick black-rimmed glasses. His blue eyes stare back.

His irritating little jock friends laugh at me.

"Devon, don't waste your time with this geek," the one with the fake blonde hair says. "C'mon, let's go...we have homeroom."

His cool, icy eyes are still locked with mine, as I will him to apologize in my mind.

He just grins and walks past me, down the hallway. Only one thing registers in my mind as Devon Tigers saunters away with his stupid, drugged up jock friends.

I hate that boy.

I complete my first day at high school hell, judging which teachers I'll need to work on and which ones I've already secured my A+s with. I just might make it to June.

I'm glad the first day is over. I step off the bright yellow school bus and toss my backpack on to the lush green grass. Oh, how I miss summer. I pull my Discman out of my backpack and lean back onto my beautiful green lawn. I sigh as "Don't Let Me Get Me" comes instantly blaring out of the tiny speakers. I close my eyes and relax. Thank God it's over.

My nap is rudely interrupted as someone plops down beside me in the grass. I open one eye and give a start at what I see. The one guy I was able to go the rest of the day without seeing once...Devon.

He grins his stupid grin.

"Yo, Vi!"

I can't believe I _live_ next to this kid. I roll my eyes and pull my headphones off. "I was having a very nice nap without you, you know."

Devon ignores me and reaches for my CD player. He flips open the top and nods appreciatively.

"Pink," he says. "Good choice. I thought you'd be more into..." He shrugs. "Beethoven."

I stare at him. "Just because I'm a `geek' doesn't mean I can't appreciate good music." I snatch my Discman back.

Devon pouts in that adorable way of his. I can't resist him. I laugh and shove him into the ground.

"You loser," I say laughingly. "Come on..."

He follows me like a puppy dog as I unlock the front door. I turn the knob and throw my weight against it. It doesn't budge.

"Jesus, we really need to get this door fixed," I mumble, as I back up to try again.

"Move aside, woman," he says self-importantly.

I shove him again and move to let him try. In one swift movement, he swings the door open gallantly.

"Milady," he gestures to the door.

I roll my eyes and step into my house. "You're so full of it."

He grins. "I know, it's a gift."

Devon sits sprawled in a chair across from me at the kitchen table, munching on my mother's homemade chocolate-chip cookies.

"Mmm..." he murmurs. "This is the best stuff on Earth." He reaches for another off the plate, and I snatch it back from his hand.

"Dude, you've eaten, like, ten already!" I set the cookie back down on the plate. "That's it."

Devon laughs and shrugs; it's no big deal.

I lean back in my chair. "So, what'd you think of high school today? Gonna be hard..."

He shrugs again. "I don't care. It's just school."

Is he joking? "C'mon, Devon, you can't deny that school is important, no matter how much you hate it."

His eyes wander elsewhere. "I guess." He has lost interest.

I roll my eyes and pull my Algebra II textbook out of my backpack.

"You have homework on the first day?" Devon asks, surprised.

"Yeah, don't you?"

He grins. "Oh yeah, you're right." He fishes through his waste of a bag and finally pulls a brand new Algebra I book out from somewhere near the bottom. "I hate math," he frowns. "It doesn't make any sense."

I flip open my own book and give him a frank look. "Of course it does. Numbers make a lot of sense..."

Devon looks doubtful. "Well then how come I don't get any of it?"

I reach for his book, but he slides it back towards him. Furrowing my eyebrows, I say, "Do you need help?"

He has a good laugh. "Oh please! You couldn't tutor me if you _tried_. You don't have the patience."

I raise my right eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

He smirks self-assuredly. "That's a fact."

"You're so arrogant, Devon."

His eyes mock me. "Oohh...big words."

"You're in _my_ house," I remind him. He can be such a jerk sometimes.

Devon gets up to stretch his arms above his head. "Speaking of which, I have to leave for basketball in an hour." He dribbles a non-existent ball around me and "scores" in the fruit basket.

"Oh," I say, pretending to be interested. "That's cool." Ugh. Sports.

"You know, a small hoop would fit really nicely on top of your basement door," he comments, knocking on the white door to his right.

I roll my eyes. "Don't you _ever_ think about anything besides sports?" I start writing down math problems in my notebook.

Devon stops mid-shot. "Girls."

I give him a wry look. "How ambitious."

He shrugs and slides back into his chair. "I don't need ambition. I need sports and I need girls."

I just laugh. "You think that."

"Well come on," he says. "When am I ever going to need this in the army?" he prods my Algebra textbook.

I raise my eyebrows. "The army?"

Devon closes his eyes and leans back in the chair. "Yeah, as soon as I'm old enough, I'm going to enlist. War, guns, that's what I need."

What? He couldn't be more wrong. "Devon, why the hell would you _like_ destruction? War is the worst thing in the world."

"It's not destruction that's cool. It's...fighting for your country. For America. My dad's in the army, you know that, right?"

I had forgotten. "Yes, but...well, I don't know, I've just always hated war. My parents had to live through it once...I just don't see why you would want to go -_looking_ for trouble like that. War kills..._people_ kill. Why would you want to be a part of that?"

Devon shrugs. "I guess I find it interesting."

I shake my head. "I don't understand your logic."

He looks at me. His blue, blue eyes are focused and calm. He's staring right through me. His eyes search my memories, filter through years of math problems and history dates, down to the very core of my soul. I wish he would stop looking at me like that. He's giving me the creeps. I will him to look away.

He does. "You don't have to," he says, and takes a cookie from the plate still sitting on my kitchen table.

I let it go. I'm too still to speak. Devon munches quietly as I sort my thoughts out. It feels like my memories have been sifted through. I can't figure this kid out...just this morning, I wanted to kill him. What power does he have over me? He can always win me over somehow, no matter what mean or obnoxious thing he does. I shake my head ever so slightly. He's too charming! It bothers me how cute and how funny he can be, and always get away with male chauvinist comments or arrogant remarks. It's the eyes, I think. Those ice blue eyes are dangerous. A trap.

As Devon reaches for another chocolate-chip cookie, I snap back to reality. Only three cookies remain on the plate. "Devon!" I snatch back his fourteenth cookie. "My mom made a whole batch of these, and now they're all gone!"

He giggles like a schoolgirl as I attempt to swat at him. He grabs another cookie and waves it tauntingly in my face. Devon escapes from my reach and darts around the kitchen. God, that kid runs fast.

I grumble and chase after him, around the kitchen and into the family room. "Devon!!" I yell, as he knocks over some of my father's books. He just laughs and dashes up the stairs with the cookie still dangling from his mouth. "I'm going to hurt you!" I shout.

I can hear him laughing at me from the top of the stairs. "You have to catch me first!"