Jess

You're a 14-year-old boy named Kenny. You're in 7th grade. Briefly, you're shy, kind, sweet, calm, and not overly boisterous, a bit of a worrier. But your mother says otherwise, like, "What kind of problems could you possibly have at that age?" Your hatred for your mother is growing. You have black hair, your bangs get in your eyes, green eyes, slightly dark skin, black pants, a white shirt with a green woven sweatshirt over it, the collar of your shirt sticking out over the neck of your sweatshirt.

It's recess time. You're standing in the middle of the hallway, talking to your friend, smiling at him. A few seconds later, a tall guy with golden hair and gray eyes, apparently a senior, approaches you. But you've never seen him before. It was strange that he ignored your friend, only turning to you with a smile, slightly tilting his head to the side, and asked, "Hey, man. Can you help me find the ninth grade here? I can just say that I just transferred here the day before yesterday. My name is Jess, by the way." The guy looked friendly. You were stunned, your heart jumped. No. Not that. It can't be.