Trish's POV
My life used to be quiet, centered only on my mother and our small flat. We were closer than sisters, and with my father gone since I was young, she was my entire world. I was the quiet type, comfortable with my books, content to be the girl people called "creepy" as long as I had her smile. But that peaceful life was shattered when I needed it most. Just months before my senior year, as I stood on the edge of growing into a woman, life took her away. I desperately tried to push back the sight of her lying there, motionless, the oxygen mask unable to give back the breath that was life itself. Her death is the single reason I ended up here, in Miss Britney Roland's home.
Miss Britney became my immediate anchor. Her words – "Your mom trusted me to take care of you... you're all she had"—were a lifeline. The beautiful, single mother instantly treated me not as a guest, but as a daughter she longed to have. Because Mom was an only child, Miss Britney was more than a best friend; she was the closest thing Mom ever had to a sister. She gave me shelter, brand new clothes, and a gorgeous room bigger than anything Mom and I ever shared. She was my second chance.
Then there was her son, Joseph Roland. I thought he would be kind and caring, like his mother. But I was wrong. He was as handsome as Miss Britney was beautiful, but inside, he was cruel, pervy, and fueled by arrogance. He wasn't just anybody; he was the King of my high school, Mthland High.
From our first meeting, he treated me with toxic entitlement, immediately s*xualizing me with comments like, "If my mom wasn't around, you'd want to ____ every bit of me." He even forced an unwanted first kiss on me, violating my space and making me feel sickeningly involved. I slapped him and pushed him away, determined to maintain my dignity. My hormones may have liked his magnetic pull, but my resolve… my focus on my future as an author, hated him. Yet, living with him made me distracted, my thoughts constantly drifting to him… especially at nights.
Then Miss Britney left on a business trip, leaving the two of us alone—the most absurd thing a mother could ever do.
On our first day alone, something changed. On our way back from the market, I twisted my ankle. I expected his usual scorn, but instead, he carried me all the way home and cared for me, treating my injury with unexpected tenderness.
In the warmth of the living room, he finally broke. He exposed his devastating secret: his father – who had cheated on Miss Britney countless times, and had told a young Joseph that he would grow up to be just like him. That man taught him how to be a bastard. Joseph's arrogant lifestyle: the partying, the casual dating, the high status… was a calculated shield.
His BIG SECRET was purely selfish: he dated and maintained his "BadBoy" status only to maintain popularity at Mthland High, ensuring he would be chosen as a key player on the Mthland High's Football Team, compensating for the physical strength he lacked. It was a manipulative, self-destructive genius move to prove he was better than his dad, even if he had to break bad to do it.
The very next morning, after the honesty and the tenderness, everything exploded. Joseph, standing in my room, said the impossible: "TRISH, I LIKE YOU. I WANT YOU TO BE BY MY SIDE." He confessed he was "too attached."
My head was spinning. The most handsome boy in school… The guy every girl in school wanted in her pants… was confessing genuine feelings. My mind screamed that he might be like his father, and I couldn't risk throwing away heart or my career for a boy, no matter how much I was unknowingly attracted to him.
He countered my fear with an unexpected plea: he needed me to help him change, to become a better man, a man his dad would regret and his mother would cherish. He said I could help him become the best football player in school—that he wanted to work hard and stop dating girls just to fake his popularity so he could make the team. But what happens when he starts doubting himself and wonders if he's even good enough? He promised he would never be like his father and agreed to my terms:
"No intimacy, and no cheap thrills."
I rushed to the shower, but not before giving him a small, undeniable piece of information: "Not till I'm eighteen... which is two months from today!" We'd be gearing up to graduate by then.
The fundamental mission hasn't changed: survive this house, ace senior year, and secure my future as an author. But with Joseph's confession, the stakes are now impossibly high. I have only two weeks of summer break left to share this home with him before we have to face Mthland High as a couple with a secret. And even more terrifying, I'm now counting down two months until my eighteenth birthday… the date I foolishly named as the end of our "no intimacy" pact. I must survive the weeks ahead and navigate the electric pull of the one boy who has just asked me to save him, without sacrificing the sensible future I swore to protect.