"It's pronounced Jay-Na!" She hisses, eyeing up the boy's thin neck, "If it were Jen-na it would have an extra N."

"Of course, Je- JAY-NA!" The boy panics, taking his schoolwork from the ground. He was a small, pale, skinny boy, a freshman. His spider-brown hair was a mess and his square glasses were falling off the edge of his bruised nose.

"What do you say?" Jena groans, her silk, pink-blonde hair is lightly slipped into a knot, she bites her lip with her sharp, pearl-white fang as she speaks.

"Jay-na!" The boy gasps, "I said, Jay-na!"

Jena bites the tip of her lip harder, so much so a small stream of blood slithers out, she licks it off with her dark, red tongue. Disgusted, the boy stares.

"What DO you say, you idiot. Not what you did say."

"Oh," Panics the boy, stepping up with his school books, "Thank you!"

He bows, and before Jena can slip another word in, he disappears through the classroom door beside him.

"I'm craving blood," Jena whispers, huskily beneath her breath, taking another lick at her bleeding lower lip, "forget school."

Jena pulls her rucksack higher above her shoulder and heads for the main doors.