Jacob sat on the edge of his bed, shoulders hunched, staring blankly at the cracked mirror propped against the wall. He ran a hand through his unkempt dark hair, his reflection staring back with piercing grey eyes.

Even in the dim light, his chiseled jawline and sculpted cheekbones were striking. He knew his looks turned heads, but it felt hollow, meaningless.

“What’s the point?” he muttered, picking at a loose thread on his faded jeans.

His gaze drifted to the tattered photo taped to the mirror - him as a little boy, gap-toothed grin beaming at the camera. Back when he still believed in happy endings. Now that felt like a lifetime ago.

Jacob stood abruptly, pacing the small room. His muscles coiled with restless energy beneath his tight black t-shirt. Even alone, intensity radiated from him - in the set of his jaw, the furrow of his brow. It was part of what drew people to him, even as he pushed them away.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” he growled, clenching his fists. But the ache of loneliness persisted, a dull throb he couldn’t shake. No matter how tough he acted, how many walls he put up, that need for connection remained.

With a sigh, Jacob flopped back onto the bed and closed his eyes. He hated living in this house, but where else would he go?

This was much better than those foster homes he had to live in, at least.

Jacob winced. He hated to think about how his life was back then, but those memories kept coming back to him unannounced.

“You worthless piece of trash!” The words echoed in his mind, accompanied by the sting of knuckles against flesh.

He sat up, running a shaky hand through his hair. “It’s over,” he whispered, willing his racing heart to slow. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

But the scars remained, invisible yet ever-present.

Jacob’s thoughts drifted to Tiffany, her image a soothing balm to his troubled mind.

Her light brown hair, those sparkling green eyes that seemed to see right through him. She was pretty but didn’t seem to know it herself. But that wasn’t why he was so drawn to her. Oh no…

He had known plenty of beautiful girls. But Tiffany, she was just…different.

He remembered the way she’d stood up to him today. The fire in her eyes, the set of her jaw - it stirred something in him.

“Damn it,” Jacob groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Why can’t I get her out of my head?”

He closed his eyes, picturing Tiffany’s frown and how her forehead crinkled adorably when he harassed him.

Tiffany wasn’t just another pretty face to conquest. She was real, and that made her dangerous to his carefully guarded heart.

“She doesn’t even see me,” he muttered, frustration evident in his voice.

But he couldn’t give up. He will have her no matter what, preferably before graduation.

The door creaked open, interrupting his thoughts. Jacob’s mom shuffled in, her diner uniform rumpled and hair escaping its messy bun.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said, voice rough with exhaustion.

“Hi, Mom,” he said flatly.

“Did you make dinner?” she asked.

Jacob winced, guilt washing over him. “Sorry, Mom. I got caught up with… homework.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s okay. I’ll just grab a sandwich.”

“No, wait,” Jacob said, closing his notebook. “I’ll whip something up. You sit down.”

Jacob stood, the tension in his muscles dissipating as he moved to the tiny kitchen. His mother, with her weary eyes and sagging shoulders, deserved more than a half-hearted sandwich after a long day on her feet. She hadn’t been around his whole life, but she was here now, and that’s what mattered.

He grabbed some stuff from the fridge, his mind still on Tiffany as he sliced a few vegetables and tossed them into a pan. There was something about her that made his heart pound in a way he didn’t fully understand.

He had been secretly obsessed with her since ninth grade but never had the guts to approach her.

As the food sizzled, Jacob’s mind wandered to their last interaction. The fire in her eyes when she’d told him to back off had only intrigued him more. Most people would cower, but Tiffany? She stood her ground.

Part of him respected her for that, but another part…the part that was used to getting what he wanted, didn’t like being told no.

He flipped the food in the pan, his jaw clenching. He knew it wasn’t right to harass her. But he couldn’t stop. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch—this need to get under her skin, to make her notice him. Even if it meant pushing too far.

Jacob set two plates down on the kitchen table and called for his mom. She shuffled in, a tired smile on her face as she sank into the chair. “You didn’t have to do this,” she murmured.

“It’s no big deal,” Jacob said gruffly, sitting down across from her.

His mother took a bite, her expression softening. “This is good, Jacob. Thank you.”

She barely ever looked him in the eyes, and Jabob knew why.

She felt guilty.

After dinner, Jacob’s mom gave him a tired smile. “I’m going to bed, honey. Thanks again for cooking.”

“Night, Mom,” Jacob said, watching her retreat to her room. He cleaned up the dishes in silence, his mind still churning.

~-~

Jacob’s heart leapt as he stepped into the classroom, his eyes immediately drawn to Tiffany. There she sat, sunlight from the window catching her shiny hair, making it shimmer. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

“There’s my princess,” he murmured, drinking in the sight of her.

As if sensing his gaze, Tiffany’s head snapped up. Her brow furrowed, lips pursing into a frown as she locked eyes with Jacob. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under.

Jacob’s stomach did a somersault. Even scowling, she was breathtaking.

“Morning, sunshine,” he called out, unable to keep the grin off his face.

Tiffany’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but she didn’t say anything.

“Missed me?” Jacob quipped, reveling in her fiery glare.

“Like a bad rash,” Tiffany shot back, turning away with a huff.

Jacob chuckled, his pulse quickening.

What would it take to make her smile at him?