Chapter 2

I was lost in these thoughts when a sudden knock interrupted me.

Assuming it was Jacob returning home, I hurried to open the door. Instead, I found Ryan Evans, his friend, standing there.

Ryan carried himself with a maturity beyond his eighteen years. He was tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a white tank top that stretched over his well-defined chest muscles.

A faint scent of sweat clung to him, radiating a raw, hormonal energy.

My heart fluttered unexpectedly. My son's friend was certainly… robust.

Ryan’s gaze was fixed on my camisole, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

The sound snapped me back to reality. I quickly adjusted my top. "Ryan, what brings you by?" I asked politely.

He scratched his head, appearing earnest. "Mrs. Lowell, I came to ask Jacob for help with a difficult problem."

I didn't doubt him. Jacob and Ryan often helped each other with schoolwork. I invited him in.

"Jacob isn't home yet. Please, have a seat. Let me get you some fruit," I said.

I walked into the kitchen, acutely aware of a heated gaze following my movements.

Just as I returned with the fruit, Jacob arrived home. He carried a black bag and, without a word, hurried straight to his bedroom.

I was about to scold him for his rudeness when Ryan stopped me. "Mrs. Lowell, doesn't Jacob seem… off to you?"

His thick fingers brushed against my waist as he spoke. The warm, accidental contact sent a shiver through me.

"R-Ryan… You think so too?" I asked, looking up at him.

His breathing seemed heavier. My own knees felt weak.

What was wrong with me? Reacting this way to a boy just out of high school.

Jacob emerged from his room, pulling me from my thoughts.

He looked pale and exhausted, but he forced a smile and greeted Ryan.

They launched into a conversation about schoolwork, video games, and anime.

Soon, Ryan brought up a new topic. "Jacob, I heard there's a well-known art teacher at school. Mr. Anderson. He has a few early admission spots to Ivy League schools. If you could get one, you wouldn't have to worry about the SATs at all."

Jacob's eyes lit up briefly, then dimmed. "I don't have any artistic talent. That kind of opportunity isn't for me."

I memorized every word of their exchange. I desperately wanted Jacob to succeed, to get into a top university. It would honor his late father.

After Ryan asked Jacob a few more questions about homework, he prepared to leave. I invited him to stay for dinner, but he firmly declined.

Such a shy young man.

At the dinner table, I studied Jacob closely. My heart ached. The dark circles under his eyes were pronounced, like a panda's. He clearly wasn't sleeping well.

I cautiously broached the subject of relationships.

His face immediately darkened. He pushed his food around his plate, then put his fork down. "I'm going to take a shower, Mom."

The sound of running water soon came from the bathroom. A sudden thought struck me, and I panicked. My freshly changed clothes were still in the laundry basket. Would he…?

Lately, Jacob's behavior had become increasingly strange. Where did he get that iPad he used to watch adult films last night?

Why was he home so late today? What was in that mysterious black bag he carried so secretively?

I glanced at the bathroom door. He would be a while. Driven by curiosity, I turned the knob to his bedroom door.

After some searching, I found the black bag hidden under his bed.

He hid it so well. It had to be something bad.

My heart pounded like a thief's, but I couldn't stop myself. I opened the bag.

Inside were brand new, unopened personal items. Among them was a uniquely shaped… adult toy.

Heat rushed to my face. My son bought this after school? Did he really need more?

If this continued, his… habits would only become more frequent. The SATs were in a month. Could his body handle this?