Jacob couldn’t stop grinning, his cheek still tingling where Tiffany’s lips had barely brushed against it. It wasn’t much of a kiss, just a quick press, really—over before it even started. But to him, it was everything.

His head felt light like he was floating in some sort of pink cloud that kept him high above the ground. He could still see her face in his mind, the way her cheeks had flushed right after, like maybe it had meant something to her, too.

If only she knew how much he adored her, how long he’d been watching from the sidelines, never daring to hope that she might actually see him the way he saw her.

He shook his head, still grinning like a fool as he turned onto his street, pulling his beat-up car into the driveway. The house looked dark, the curtains drawn like they always were. He sighed. The high from Tiffany’s kiss faded just a little, replaced by the heavy reality that awaited him behind those closed doors.

Jacob got out of the car, his smile faltering as he stepped inside the house. The familiar scent of old furniture and cheap perfume hit him immediately, but there was something else—a sharp, bitter smell he hadn’t smelled in months. His heart sank as he walked into the living room.

His mom was sprawled out on the couch, her head resting awkwardly against the armrest, a half-empty bottle of cheap vodka dangling loosely from her fingers. Jacob stopped in the doorway, his heart heavy with disappointment. He thought she’d quit. He really thought this time was different.

“Mom,” he called softly, stepping closer.

She didn’t stir, her breathing slow and deep, the telltale signs of having passed out from too much. Jacob sighed, crouching beside her, and gently pried the bottle from her hand. The smell of the alcohol made his stomach twist, not because he hated it, but because it had been the third member of their household for as long as he could remember.

And it was the reason he had to be separated from her when he was ten.

He set the bottle aside and nudged her shoulder carefully. “Mom, wake up. You need to go to bed.”

She mumbled something unintelligible but didn’t open her eyes. Jacob sighed again, running a hand through his hair as he considered what to do. This wasn’t the first time he’d found her like this, but it had been a while—long enough that he had let himself hope things were getting better.

“Come on, Mom,” he said, a little firmer this time, shaking her gently.

She groaned and stirred, her eyes fluttering open. For a second, she looked confused, like she didn’t recognize where she was, but then her gaze landed on him, and she gave him a sloppy smile.

“Jacob, baby,” she slurred, her voice thick and unsteady. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“I live here, remember?” he replied, trying to keep his voice light, even though his chest felt tight. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

She tried to sit up, but her movements were slow and uncoordinated. Jacob had to catch her before she tipped over completely, guiding her gently to her feet. She leaned heavily on him, her legs shaky, and he half-carried her to her bedroom.

As he helped her into bed, tucking the blanket around her, his mom gave him another sleepy smile. “You’re such a good boy,” she murmured, her words slurring together. “I don’t deserve you.”

Jacob swallowed hard, biting back the lump that was forming in his throat. He’d heard those words before, too many times to count, but they didn’t make it any easier. “It’s alright, Mom. Just get some sleep.”

She was already drifting off again, her breathing evening out as she fell back into unconsciousness. Jacob stood there for a moment, watching her, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle back onto his shoulders. The pink cloud from earlier had all but disappeared, replaced by the cold reality of his life.

He walked back to the living room and glanced at the bottle of vodka sitting on the table. His hand hovered over it for a moment, but then he grabbed it and carried it to the kitchen, pouring the rest of it down the sink. He knew it wouldn’t change anything—there would always be more bottles, more nights like this—but for now, it felt like the only thing he could control.

As he leaned against the counter, staring at the empty bottle, his mind drifted back to Tiffany.

He smiled faintly to himself. Maybe he was delusional to think Tiffany would ever give him the time of the day. She may never be his because it wasn’t like he could force her to love him.

~-~

Meanwhile, Tiffany’s heart was pounding as she walked toward her house. She kept thinking about the day she had with Jacob.

She shouldn’t have kissed him.

Okay, it was only a quick and innocent peck on the cheek, but even that felt too intimate. The warmth of Jacob’s skin lingered on her lips, stirring up unfamiliar emotions within her.

“Tiffany.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of her father’s deep voice booming behind her. She spun around to face him, her cheeks flushed with guilt and embarrassment.

“Yeah, Dad?” Tiffany’s voice wavered slightly as she turned to face her father, standing tall at the end of the driveway.

Her father’s stern expression sent a chill down her spine. He was always overprotective, and she couldn’t help but feel that he somehow knew what had happened. His dark eyes bore into her, and she suddenly felt like the shy little girl who used to sneak out of the house only to get caught every time.

“Where were you?” he asked, his voice low but authoritative.

Tiffany swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had to play this off like it was no big deal. “I…just…” she stammered.

Her father’s eyebrows furrowed. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“I skipped school. I am so sorry!” she said hurriedly.

“Skipped school?” her father echoed, his tone sharp.

“Yes. I will never do that again, I swear,” Tiffany said, her voice shaking.

River stared at her for a while and chuckled.

Tiffany’s eyes turned wide. “Why are you laughing?”

River crossed his arms as he shook his head. “I thought something bad happened to you, Tiff. I was worried. But next time you skip school, call first.”

Tiffany blinked. “You’re…not mad?”

River sighed, his sternness creeping back in. “No, I’m not mad. What worries me more is what you’re not telling me.” He stepped closer, his eyes searching her face for answers. “Who were you with?”

Tiffany looked down. “A friend.”

“A friend, huh? Well, I will accept it for now since we can’t stand here on the street all day. Besides, Riley is worried about you.”

Tiffany bit her lip, feeling guilty again. “I didn’t mean to make you guys worry,” she said softly.

River placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know, Tiff. But just remember—we’re a family, and in our world, things can get dangerous fast. You can’t disappear like that without telling anyone. Next time, give us a heads-up, alright?”

Tiffany nodded. “I will, Daddy, I promise.”

River gave her a brief but reassuring smile. “Good. Now, go inside and talk to Riley. She’ll feel better once she sees you’re okay.”

Tiffany smiled weakly and headed toward the house, her mind still racing with thoughts of Jacob and the strange, fluttery emotions his presence stirred in her. She wondered if he was thinking about her too or if it was all just a game to him.