117. Do You Read?

Jacob stared at the worn leather cover of Tiffany’s diary, his stomach twisting with guilt. What had seemed like a brilliant plan now felt invasive and wrong. He ran his fingers over the embossed flowers, picturing Tiffany’s delicate hands tracing the same pattern. “I’m such an idiot,” he muttered, flopping back onto his bed. But it’s not like he can just give that back to her. That wouldn’t be smart. If he returned the diary, he’d lose his only leverage. His one shot at getting Tiffany to notice him. She’d never go to prom with him otherwise, he reasoned, pacing the length of his small bedroom. Little Miss Perfect would rather go alone than be seen with the school’s resident bad boy. Jacob paused, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His leather jacket and ripped jeans screamed trouble. But underneath was just a guy desperate for a chance. “I don’t have a choice,” he said to his reflection. “It’s blackmail or nothing.” The word left a sour taste in his mouth. But as he pictured Ti