That evening, Jeremy sat on the roof in his home.
It was a habit he'd picked up years ago, Climbing out of his window and onto the flat part above the garage when the house got too loud or his thoughts got too crowded. Tonight, it was both.
The sky was painted in streaks of orange and fading purple, a few stars daring to blink awake. The distant buzz of traffic and crickets filled the air, but all Jeremy could hear was the silence between two people who hadn't really spoken all week.
He leaned back on his elbows, one earbud in, the other dangling. His playlist was halfway through a song he wasn't listening to.
He kept replaying lunch in his head. Ashley's voice. Jenny's silence.
"She didn't even flinch!"
Jeremy exhaled hard through his nose. Why do I care?
"Not my business," he muttered aloud, like saying it would make it true.
Maximus had offered to hang out earlier, but Jeremy had waved him off. He wasn't in the mood for dumb memes or flirty Instagram DMs. Not tonight.
He stared up at the sky, the stars slowly sharpening above him.
What was it about Jenny that kept creeping into his head?
Maybe it was the way she always looked like she was trying to disappear in plain sight. Or how she kept her voice low in class but had this calm sharpness when she did speak. Or maybe it was that candy letter thing—how he'd read it a dozen times like it would reveal some kind of secret he'd missed.
He rubbed a hand over his face. "Get a grip."
But he didn't move. Didn't go back inside. Just stayed there.
And somewhere in all that confusion, one truth stuck out like a sore thumb:
He didn't want to see her hurt.
*
**
Jenny lay in bed, cocooned in her blanket like it might shield her from the world. The soft glow of her bedside lamp barely lit the corners of her room, and the shadows danced across her posters and bookshelves.
Outside, the wind whispered against the windowpane, a steady hush-hush-hush like the night was trying to soothe her.
But her mind wasn't ready to rest.
She stared at the ceiling, eyes unfocused, her phone forgotten on the pillow beside her.
Maya had texted earlier, checking in. Jenny hadn't replied yet. Not because she didn't care…but because she didn't know how to say I'm okay without lying.
Her thoughts wandered back to lunch.
How he walked in lovable with Ashley.
"My writeups did do the tricks for her! At least she's happy now, but why I'm I not?
Why did it matter so much?
It wasn't like she actually had feelings for Jeremy. At least… she didn't think she did. He wasn't even nice to her most of the time. He barely spoke to her before the letter. And yet… why did heart Dona flitch when she saw them together?"
Jenny turned onto her side, pulling her blanket tighter.
Maybe Rachel was right. Maybe high school really did feel bigger than it was. Maybe one day this would just be a funny memory. But right now, it felt like she was trapped in a something she never asked for.
She reached for her sketchpad from under the bed. Her comfort place.
With soft strokes of her pencil, she started drawing—not anything specific, just motion, lines, shadow. Letting the quiet settle around her.
Letting her hand speak what her voice couldn't.
By the time her eyes started to droop, the sketchpad rested on her chest—half-finished lines of a boy sitting under a tree, his face turned away.
*
*
*
The Next Morning [Jenny's Kitchen]
The smell of pancakes and scrambled eggs filled the kitchen as sunlight filtered through the window blinds.
Jenny sat at the table, still in her hoodie, poking at her breakfast while Caleb sat across from her inhaling his food like it was his last meal.
"I call dibs on the last pancake!" Caleb declared with a mouthful, reaching for it with syrup-drenched fingers.
"Gross," Jenny muttered, pulling her plate away. "You're like a human garbage disposal."
"You wound me," he said, clutching his chest dramatically before grinning. "Big day? Gonna hand out any more anonymous letters?"
Jenny shot him a glare. "One day you'll fall in love and I will never let you live it down."
"Oh please," Caleb scoffed. "I'm emotionally unavailable. Like Jeremy."
Jenny froze for half a second.
Rachel strolled into the kitchen, dressed for work and already sipping from her travel mug. "If you two don't stop bickering, I'm turning this into a podcast."
"Breakfast Banter," Caleb said instantly. "With your hosts: Cynical Sis and Unbearable Bro."
Jenny gave Rachel a pleading look, and Rachel just laughed. "Ignore him. He peaked emotionally at twelve."
"I'm still peaking," Caleb announced proudly.
"Anyway," their mom cut in, setting down a plate, "you'll both be late if you don't finish eating. And Jenny, sweetheart, keep your head up today, alright?"
Jenny nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'll try."
She wasn't sure what today would bring. But at least at home, she could still breathe.
*
*
*
[Later – School, First Period with Mr. Jack]
The bell rang just as Jenny slipped into her seat. Maya gave her a little wave across the room, Jeremy was already there, slouched with one earbud in, gaze flicking lazily toward the window.
Mr. Jack walked in a beat later, his signature plaid tie half-tucked and a coffee stain on his sleeve.
"Alright, my beautiful disasters!" he called out, clapping his hands. "Before we dive into Shakespeare's greatest hits spoiler alert, everyone dies, let's start with a little affirmation."
The class groaned in practiced unison.
"No, no, no. I need that energy up!" Mr. Jack pointed toward the ceiling.
"Repeat after me: I am a flaming ball of potential!"
"I am a flaming ball of potential," they chorused.
"Louder!"
Jenny muttered it under her breath, but she couldn't help the tiny smile tugging at her lips.
"Good," Mr. Jack said with a grin. "Now take that fire and channel it into not falling asleep during iambic pentameter."
As the lesson began, Jenny settled into her seat, with her notebook and her pen on the ready.
Jeremy, whose eyes were first gazed towards the window, finally looked away.
And somewhere else, in a senior classroom one floor up, Max was about to make his first official splash at school.
---
[Upstairs – Senior Classroom, Mid-Morning]
Mr. Danvers, the senior homeroom teacher, was halfway through a dry announcement about upcoming project deadlines when the door creaked open.
All heads turned as the vice principal stepped in, followed by a tall figure who looked like he belonged in a magazine ad for cologne.
"Everyone, meet Maximus Blackwood," the VP said. "New transfer. Moved back from California and will be joining your class starting today."
Max stepped forward with an easy grin and a confidence that had the class already buzzing.
His black hair was slightly tousled, like he'd run a hand through it moments before walking in.
With an emerald green eyes thatbscanned the room, projecting a cool, casual, and an utterly unbothered personality.
"Hey," he said. "Max. Just Max is fine."
"Dibs," someone whispered from the back row, followed by a ripple of giggles.
"Tall drink of water," someone else muttered.
Mr. Danvers cleared his throat. "Max, you can take the seat by the window. And just so everyone knows, he's related to Jeremy Blackwood.
Cousins."
That last line caused another small eruption of chatter.
"Jeremy? As in, our Jeremy?"
"No way! They look nothing alike!"
"Except the whole tall, mysterious vibe."
Max just smirked and headed to his seat, offering a small nod to a few curious stares on his way..