AN: This Jake (Jake Jaeger) is not the same Jake (Jake Smyth) as the one in my other story "Jake the Snake." Also this story has nothing to do with "Jake the Snake."

Like the programmed robot that it was, Jake's alarm clock went off at exactly seven o'clock. Almost in the exact same mechanical control, Jake slipped his hand out from underneath the cocoon shell of bed blankets he slept fully under and hit the snooze button. 10 more minutes won't kill….At least that's what he told himself anyway. But unfortunately for Jake, his dad, Bryan, didn't think so. He pounded three times on Jake's door before telling him it's time to get up, the bus was on its way and he had to get ready. Kola, the family dog, barked in agreement, although she loved Jake to death, he wasn't Alpha Jake. Bryan was the alpha, Jake was the beta. When she heard no movement, no sounds coming from Jake, she began to scratch at his door.

"Come on, Jake, I can't drive you in if you miss the bus!" Bryan reminded his son time and again.

Jake thought to himself that if he missed the bus, and his father couldn't drive him in, then he'd get to stay home, which he'd prefer over almost everything else. A smirk coated his features. But he had an oral report due today in English class, second class of the day. And if he missed it, he'd get deducted an entire letter grade. Mrs. Reynolds didn't joke around like that. And Jake knew he'd be in trouble with his old man, who was so determined for Jake to make something of himself, if he had gotten a grade deduction for a nonsense reason like this. So slowly but surely, Jake threw the cocoon of covers off himself and dragged himself out of bed. He had to ask…

"Dad, do I have to?" He wondered as he ran a hand through his wild, untamed mess of thick and wavy black bed head hair.

"I'll let you stay home on Saturday," Bryan said through the door as he walked away, finishing getting ready for his day now that he knew his son was up and moving around.

'Gee, thanks,' Jake thought, rolling his eyes as he ripped off his black t-shirt from the night before.

Class didn't start for another 15 minutes, but the hallways were already piled to the max with various classmen all talking to one another, gossiping, talking about the latest party that was happening this weekend, upcoming games, blah, blah, blah! It was just a bunch of high school talk that Jake didn't give a fuck about. Clenching onto the one strap of his backpack that was slung over his shoulder, Jake dragged himself to his first period class.

Mrs. Reynolds wasn't even in yet. She never came in until the bell rang. Jake sighed as he slipped down further into his desk, taking out his papers for his oral report, reading over exactly what he was going to say. He didn't get much done before the stack of papers was ripped out of his hands and a group of shadows covered the natural sunlight in the room.

"Hey tough guy," Matt Connery, one of the upper classmen, said as he passed around Jake's report to his group of mindless friends. "What's this?" he wondered.

"Matt, don't you have an oral report due in English today?" Joey wondered.

"Oh yeah…I forgot about that," he said then turned to Jake. "This A+ material, freak?" When Jake didn't answer, didn't make eye contact, Matt slammed his hands down on the desk Jake was sitting at. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

"And I'm not…" Jake muttered with no eye contact made. And unfortunately for Jake, he was sitting in the backseat, last desk, of the classroom, and he had long enough hair that was able to be grabbed. Matt took a chunk of it in his hand and slammed the back of Jake's head against the wall.

"I said, is this A+ MATERIAL!?"

When Jake still didn't talk, Matt took it upon himself to grab Jake by his shirt and lifted him into the air before throwing him out of his desk.

"Now you listen to me you little freak of the crop picking, you answer me when I'm talking to you!" Matt kicked Jake once in his ribs as Jake winched in pain. Too bad Matt wasn't wearing steel toed boots. At least a couple broken ribs would get him the hell out of this place.

"What's a matter?" Jake winced out. "No grade fame, no game?" Jake got the wind knocked out of him when Matt gave him a nice number to the stomach. Can appendicitis be caused from a kicked appendix? Jake kind of hoped so….Hospitals were a lot more friendly.

"Ah screw this crap!" Matt took back all the sheets of paper he handed to his friends before ripping them to shreds and crumpling up all the pieces so they barely even looked like a report. "Knowing this nightmare he probably wrote about some freak show he was spawned from!" Matt threw the pieces at Jake before saying, "No wonder your mom kicked the bucket early. I'd wanna check out ASAP if I had to see your creepy face every day too!"

It wasn't until Matt and his crew was out of sight, out of ear shot that Jake struggled against his own internal pain and slipped back into his desk. Thank God printers can print multiple copies.