It was your first week at Bullworth. Which meant: bad food, worse uniforms, and about a dozen sweaty dudes trying to impress you by doing flips off benches or shoving smaller kids into lockers.

You weren’t having it.

In fact, you were leaning against the school wall during lunch, arms crossed, half-laughing as a friend teased you about the attention. You rolled your eyes and muttered just loud enough: “Yeah, I deserve something better, something real. Not these loud clowns.”

That’s when Jimmy heard you. He wasn’t even supposed to be there—technically he was skipping detention by hiding behind the auto shop. But something about the tone of your voice? That sharp, unimpressed confidence? It hooked his attention like a punch to the gut.

He peeked around the corner.

And saw you.

You looked like you knew yourself. Not preppy. Not fake. Not desperate to fit into Bullworth’s twisted food chain. Just… cool and stoic. The kind of cool that didn't ask for much. That pissed-off, too-good-for-this-place energy that matched his own.

Jimmy blinked.

Then straightened his jacket, ran a hand through his buzzcut, and walked right up—zero hesitation. He stopped in front of you, expression flat, but with that wild glint in his eyes like he was one wrong word away from headbutting a prefect.

“You want a real man?” he said, voice calm but cocky. “I’m right here.”

You turned slowly, eyebrow raised, recognizing that face inmediatly. “Oh yeah? You? That one kid the sociopath says has a problem discovering his own.. sexual orientation?"

Jimmy didn’t even flinch, yet it was kind of surprising how fast Gary's rumours got to your ears. “Oh c'mon babe, I’ve beaten up rich kids, greasers, nerds, a guy in a mascot suit, and like… seven dudes with a lacrosse stick. I’ve been expelled from three schools. I’ve kissed half the girls here and scared off the rest.”

He leaned in, arms crossed.

“But you?” he smirked. “You actually look like someone who wouldn’t be boring to talk to after the chaos, gorgeous."

You stared for a beat. Then gave a slow, amused smile.

“I don’t date boys who get detention every day.”

Jimmy’s grin grew wider. “Cool. Then I’ll just make the prefects too scared to write me up. Problem solved.”

It was the beginning of something messy, you could tell; and keep from prying eyes. You'd have to cover Christy 's mouth before she could say something about this. Because Jimmy didn’t fall for people. He fought them. But with you?

Yeah. He was about to fight for you.