Chapter Text
Jenny Harrison had never felt more out of place in her life.
She sat stiffly in the passenger seat of Beth Greene’s old car as they pulled into the high school parking lot, the morning sun glaring white off the windshields of trucks and sedans poorly parked in uneven rows. The building itself was a squat, sprawling thing, sand-bricked and a little weathered by the Georgia heat baking into it. It wasn’t exactly intimidating, but something about it - the sheer foreignness of it all - sent a twist of nerves knotting low in Jenny’s stomach.
"Don’t worry," Beth chirped, flicking her soft blonde hair over her shoulder as she parked. "You’ll be fine! Everyone’s real nice here."
Jenny gave a weak smile. "Yeah, well, I doubt they’ll roll out the red carpet for the new girl."
Beth laughed, unbothered. "Just stick with me. They’ll warm up to you."
Jenny wasn’t so sure. She had only been in Georgia for a week, staying with the Greene family at their farm while her parents dealt with whatever it was they were dealing with back home. She hadn’t asked for details; she wasn’t sure she wanted them. But now she was here, dropped into a world that might as well have been an entirely different planet.
The moment they stepped out of the car, the humid air stuck to Jenny’s skin like a second layer, making her sweater instantly feel like a mistake. Around them, students milled about in groups, leaning against car hoods, laughing, pushing at each other. Jenny caught the quick glances in her direction, the way people nudged each other and whispered.
Beth, completely oblivious, looped her thin arm through Jenny’s. "Come on, I’ll show you 'round."
Jenny let herself be pulled along, trying to ignore the self-conscious prickle at the back of her neck. The school felt loud - louder than the one she had left behind in England. The accents, the slang, the smell of fresh asphalt and cigarette smoke - it was all too much, all at once.
She barely noticed him at first.
Just another figure in her periphery, another student loitering by the border at the far end of the lot. But as they got closer, Jenny’s gaze flickered toward him, and something about him made her look twice.
He stood apart from the others, leaning against his bike with an air of practiced indifference. He was tall, lanky but strong-looking, his blonde hair falling in uneven layers over his tanned forehead. His clothes were dark, worn, as if he hadn’t much cared what he threw on that morning. There was something about the way he carried himself, the way his sharp eyes flickered over the crowd but never settled, that made Jenny’s stomach twist again – but not unpleasantly.
Beth noticed where she was looking, and made a face.
"You don’t wanna mess with that one," she said under her breath.
Jenny tore her gaze away then, arching a curious brow. "Who is he?"
Beth huffed, rolling her eyes. "Daryl Dixon. He’s just-" She wrinkled her button nose, waving a hand as if swatting away an annoying fly. "I don’t know. He keeps to himself. Kinda weird. A little scary, honestly... I don’t think he even talks to people unless he's arguing."
Jenny’s curiosity only deepened.
She dared to steal another glance. Daryl had pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with a flick of his thumb on a cheap lighter. His eyes - blue, she thought, though the distance made it hard to tell - were so sharp, darting around as if he were waiting for something to go wrong. Daring something to go wrong.
Jenny had always been drawn to things she shouldn’t be. She knew it well enough. But it wasn’t just that Daryl Dixon looked like trouble. It was that he looked like he had been let down before, like he had learned not to expect much from people.
Beth sighed. "Come on, Jenny. You don’t wanna be late for homeroom on your first day!"
Jenny hesitated only a moment before letting Beth pull her away. But as they walked, she found herself glancing back once more, just in time to see Daryl looking in her direction.
Their eyes met for the briefest second before he turned away, exhaling smoke into the morning air.
Jenny didn’t know what that meant. But she was suddenly sure of one thing - she wanted to find out.
As Beth herded her into the building, the attention in the halls became suffocating.
Jenny had always known she would be a little different here, but she hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this; the lingering stares, the wide grins, the way people leaned in just a little too close when they spoke to her - it was all too much. She could feel their eyes tracing over her, from the curve of her waist to the waves of her hair, as if she were some strange new creature to be examined. Exotic, in a way that people here simply weren’t.
She didn’t like it.
The football players Beth half-heartedly flirted with had set their sights on her immediately. They made it obvious - leaning against lockers, calling her name in that honey-thick drawl, offering lazy winks when she passed. She forced herself to smile, to be polite, because she wasn’t stupid. She knew how these things worked. But deep down, she felt like prey.
It was only second period, and she was already exhausted.
By lunchtime, she’d had enough. The cafeteria was too loud, too full of people who wanted to talk to her, to ask where she was from, to touch her arm like she might disappear if they didn’t confirm she was real. She needed space.
Jenny slipped away unnoticed, pressing through the side door that led outside. It was an empty wall, cracked pavement beneath her shoes, the smell of cut grass and warming, damp earth filling her lungs. The noise inside dulled to a faint hum as the door thudded shut, and she exhaled heavily, pressing her back against the brick, eyes closing.
Quiet. Finally.
The tension in her shoulders unwound just a little, and she focused on her breathing, slow and steady. The farm had been quiet, peaceful. The woods behind it had been even better - cool and shaded, humming with life in a way that didn’t demand anything from her.
She longed for that quiet now.
And then, she felt his eyes.
Daryl Dixon had been there long before she noticed him, but when her eyes finally found him, she knew immediately. He was leaning against the far end of the wall, half-hidden in the shadow of the building, a stubby cigarette dangling from his tanned fingers.
Watching her.
The sharpness of his gaze sent a prickle down her spine, but not in the way the others had. The footballers made her feel like a prize, like something to be won and passed around. Daryl made her feel like something else entirely. Something alive.
She was a little shaky, breath still uneven from the weight of all that attention, but under his eyes, she stilled. He didn’t leer, didn’t smirk, didn’t call out to her. He just looked.
She still felt like prey.
But she liked it.
He exhaled smoke through his nose, his expression unreadable, his face half-shadowed by the light hair falling over his face due to the dip of his chin. She wondered how long he had been watching her before she noticed him.
Jenny swallowed, shifting slightly against the wall, the fibres of her jumper clicking on the brick. There was a pull between them - unspoken, unseen, but there all the same. A thread of curiosity, of something deeper.
Then the door banged open, and Beth’s voice shattered it.
"There you are! What the hell, Jenny?"
Jenny jerked upright, turning as Beth stepped onto the pavement, hands on her hips. Her blonde hair gleamed white in the sun, her expression pinched with irritation.
"I’ve been lookin’ all over for you! Why’d you run off?"
Jenny hesitated, glancing back toward the shadowed corner, but Daryl was already gone.
The cigarette still smouldered on the pavement.
𓆱
Daryl had been smoking alone, tucked into the shadow of the school’s brick wall, when she stumbled outside.
He recognised the look on her face instantly. Unsettled. Flustered. Like she’d been running from something, even if it was just too many eyes, too many voices. He didn’t know what had sent her out here, but he figured it had something to do with the way the football assholes had been eyeing her all morning.
She was new. Different.
And people around here didn’t do different well.
Daryl exhaled smoke, watching her as she pressed her back against the brick, tilting her head up to the sky like she was catching her breath. His cigarette burned slow and hot between his fingers, but he barely noticed.
He felt the same way he did when he was hunting.
Watching her by the trees, he remembered the times he’d tracked deer in the woods, breath steady, heart slow, waiting for the perfect moment to move. The way they froze when they sensed something nearby. The way their ears flicked, their big eyes scanning for danger.
She had that same look now.
Fallow doe.
Her red hair gleamed in the sunlight, loose, unstyled strands curling against her flushed face. She was slim, delicate, limbs unsure. A little wild, like she didn’t quite belong here, like she was meant for open spaces, not the crowded halls of a Georgia high school.
And then, as if she felt it, she looked up.
Her gaze landed on him, sharp and direct.
Most people flinched when they saw him watching. Got nervous. Looked away. She didn’t.
She met his stare head-on, and for a second, neither of them moved.
Daryl didn’t know what he would have done if the moment had lasted any longer. But it didn’t.
The door slammed open, and just like that, it was gone.
Beth Greene swept onto the pavement like she owned it, her voice bright and impatient.
"There you are! What the hell, Jenny?"
Jenny blinked, the moment cracking apart as she turned toward her friend. Beth didn’t even glance Daryl’s way - didn’t acknowledge him at all. Good.
She grabbed Jenny’s arm, already pulling her back toward the school.
Daryl didn’t plan on watching them leave.
Different worlds. That much was obvious.
He took one last drag of his cigarette and flicked the butt to the ground, crushing it under his boot.
Then he turned and disappeared into the trees before the door even shut.