Jacks Dorvy

Jacks sprayed a final hit of breath freshener into his mouth before stepping out of the university bathroom, his backpack hanging off one shoulder. From the half-open bag, a pack of condoms fell out—the ones he’d been buying for James ever since the guy lost his fucking mind falling for his alibi girl. That idiot was so obsessed with her he even forgot to restock things when they ran out—and they ran out way too damn fast, and, honestly, Dorvy was fucking tired of it. He wanted to grab the big bastard and shake him until his brain went back into his head instead of rolling straight down to his dick.

Picking up the fallen item from right under the feet of a tall blonde, he winked at the poor girl and continued down the hallway at a quick pace. His heart beat faster. Just the thought of it sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, and his full lips curled into a devilish smirk.

And there she was. Elordi Jameson. A fucking goddess in human form. A walking wet dream. She stood in a circle of her friends, as usual drawing way too much attention in her tiny skirt—the one she was constantly scolded for—and Jacks mentally noted that one day he’d rip that pathetic scrap of fabric to pieces.

“Sup, Elordi,” Jacks purred, practically materializing beside her. He casually ran his hands through his hair, catching the gazes of her chattering friends. And of course, Elordi decided he wasn’t humiliated enough, so she simply ignored him. Clenching his jaw, he let it slide. “Will you go to the Winter Ball with me, Jameson?” he asked bluntly, already getting irritated by her indifference.

James was always telling him, “Leave that bitch alone.” But Dorvy liked the chase. Untouchable girls made everything more exciting. And at the end, they always gave in. Always.

Jacks slipped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer. A charming smile played on his lips as he looked down at her, running his tongue playfully across his teeth.

“No, Dorvy.” Slapping his hand away and slipping out of his grip, Elordi shot him a humiliating look and stormed off. “And don’t you dare talk to me again, idiot,” she threw over her shoulder, pausing for a second before glancing back with a wicked grin. “Learn to pronounce conscientious, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

God damn that girl. He had dyslexia, and everyone at the university knew it—Dorvy didn’t care much, or he was just good at pretending, but hearing that crap from everyone was getting on his nerves. She openly mocked him, and Jacks hated it. Still, his dick twitched traitorously at the thought of fucking those snarky words out of her mouth so she’d never say them again.

“C-o-n-s-t-i-o-u-s!” he yelled after her, trying his luck anyway, earning laughter echoing down the hallway. His neck flushed, whether from anger or embarrassment, and he pulled up his hood, shoving guys out of his way. “You’re not a very conscientious person, Elordi!” he shouted, not fully sure if the word fit or even meant what he thought, but he didn’t give a damn.

Jacks sat in front of the university, waiting for his thick-skulled friend Nate, who’d been visiting administration way too often ever since he helped James find information about his girl. Dorvy didn’t fully understand why he kept doing it, or why the hell he liked spending time with Jessica Monche, but when he later saw that the old perv who used to work there had been replaced by a young, beautiful woman just a little older than them, Jacks immediately understood. That night he’d stood there with his mouth hanging open until Nate shoved him out of her office and threatened—seriously, fucking threatened—him to never look at her like that again. It was unusual—Nate Rowdy had always been the functioning brain in their friendship, never jealous of his friends, fully aware that Jacks had a habit of flirting with literally everyone. And now this.

He was smoking his third cigarette of the evening, trying to chase off thoughts of Elordi, when he noticed a very familiar figure sitting on the steps. His eyebrows shot up when he recognized Elordi’s silhouette, and a satisfied smile spread across his face.

“Well, well, what do we have here,” he grinned like an idiot, pushing off the car and swaggering closer to the girl, tilting his head. “Bad mood? Come on, Jameson, it’s fine. Dyslexia doesn’t bother me.” Jacks shrugged, sitting down beside her and trying to look into—not quite succeeding to look into—Jameson’s face, which was lowered. A spark of familiar fire flared in his chest, and the realization that Elordi might actually be upset because of him was the sweetest feeling of all.

“Actually, I can help you feel better,” he chuckled, gently brushing her hair aside to see her face. And then it hit him. This wasn’t Elordi. Not exactly. It was her exact copy—just a few years younger. Confusion rose immediately, and he frowned, staring at her for a long moment before lowering his hand.

He smirked. So that’s how it is. Elordi had a sister.

“Well, well, Jameson-Junior. What happened to you?” he asked, though his tone never stayed serious. A terrible plan involving Elordi’s sister was already forming in his head—one he was sure would make the older Jameson burst with jealousy and finally give him a chance. Jacks was convinced that girls like Elordi were the jealous type with their long-time admirers. That worked in his favor.

“Did a boy hurt you? Tell me, I’ll handle it,” he continued, trying to look calm and not too excited. “In return, I’ll ask for very little. Just go to the Winter Ball with me. You’re still free, right?” This time, he didn’t hide how much he enjoyed their “conversation.” A crooked smirk stretched across his face, making him look even more handsome.

“That’s a good deal, Jameson. I’ll take care of you all night.”