The living room of Jordan's big house was filled with laughter, the kind you hear from boys who feel like they can do anything. Fancy shoes were scattered across the shiny floor, soda cans stacked on the glass table, and the huge TV displayed the words GAME OVER.

“HA! Time to pay up, Alvarez,” shouted one of his friends, nudging Jordan's shoulder. “I finally beat you. ”

Jordan smiled lazily from his spot on the couch, holding the controller loosely. He hated losing, but he was great at acting like it didn’t bother him. “Just luck for a beginner,” he replied. “Don’t get too cocky. ”

The group teased him, already buzzing with ideas for what he’d have to do. That was their rule—if you lost, you had to do a dare. And Jordan never backed down from a dare. That’s how he kept his reputation.

“Okay,” one other boy grinned mischievously, “I’ve got a plan. You’re going to pull a prank on someone. ”

Jordan lifted an eyebrow, spinning the controller in his fingers. “Prank who? ”

There was a moment of silence. A smile spread across their faces. Then they all said together:

“Travis Moreno. ”

The room burst into laughter. The poor kid was always the easy target—quiet, poor, and constantly buried in books as if his life depended on it. Simple prey.

Jordan’s smile wavered for a moment before he covered it with a laugh. “Travis, huh? ” he repeated, acting like he didn’t care while inside he felt a squeeze in his chest that no one noticed.

“Yeah, dude,” his friend went on. “Make him think you like him. You know—smile, flirt, walk him home. A nerd like him won’t take long to fall for you. Then…” He pretended to crush something in his hand. “You break his heart. Boom. Game over. ”

The room cheered wildly.

Jordan reclined, eyes half-closed, taking a sip from his soda can. “That’s all? ” he said coolly. “Make him fall for me, then dump him? Sounds dull. ”

“Afraid he won’t be into you? ”

This made the others laugh even more. Jordan’s pride wouldn’t let them think he was scared of anyone. So he flashed his usual grin, sharp and full of confidence.

“Give me two months,” Jordan said, his voice soft yet fierce with its calmness. “In two months, Moreno will be mine. ”

More cheers. More laughter. Someone patted him on the back.

But Jordan wasn’t paying much attention. His thoughts had already shifted to the image of Travis sitting in the library earlier that day, his glasses sliding down his nose as he took notes, completely unaware of what was happening around him.

Jordan’s grip tightened slightly around the soda can.

A bet. A prank. A game. That’s what his friends believed.

But for Jordan, this was his big opportunity.

Later that night, after everything had quieted down and his friends had headed home, Jordan stood alone on the balcony of his huge bedroom. The city lights sparkled far below, cold and far away.

He took out his phone, his finger hovering over the search box before he typed in Travis Moreno.

Images appeared from school activities—blurry, unappealing, easy to forget by most. However, Jordan focused on each one, gazing for too long at the tiny smile that barely showed, the quiet presence that most overlooked.

He felt a tightening in his chest.

They believed it was a joke. A mean challenge. But Jordan understood the truth. He had recognized Travis well before tonight, well before the wager. It was in the way Travis never broke under stress, how he held his books tightly like they were essential, and how he moved through life despite the gossip.

Jordan breathed out slowly, turning off his phone.

At last, he had a reason.

"Two months," he quietly spoke to the empty space, his mouth forming a gentler smile than usual.

Not to hurt him.

But to finally get close enough to reach out to him.