The library was sinking into the golden, bruised hues of late afternoon. The dust motes that danced in the shafts of light felt like spectators to the quiet scraping of books against wood. Mel finally stepped off the ladder, his muscles aching with a dull, familiar fatigue. He wiped his palms on his trousers, feeling the silence of the room settle over him like a heavy blanket.
He turned around, expecting to see Jacob standing there with a stopwatch and a scowl, ready to criticize the placement of a single index card. But instead, he found Jacob leaning against a mahogany pillar, his expression uncharacteristically soft—almost pensive.
"I'm finished, Jacob," Mel said quietly, keeping his eyes on the floor.
Jacob stepped forward, his leather shoes clicking softly on the carpet, closing the distance until he was standing just outside Mel's personal bubble.
"Good," Jacob said. His voice was unusually level, stripped of its jagged edges. "Sit down for a minute, Mel. I have a... mission for you. Something off the record."
Mel felt a spark of apprehension. "A mission?"
"A private matter," Jacob clarified, gesturing toward a small reading table tucked between the stacks. Mel sat tentatively on the edge of the chair, his heart beginning its usual nervous flutter. Jacob sat opposite him, leaning forward, his hands clasped.
"It's about your sister," Jacob began, his eyes locked on Mel's face. "Hosen."
Mel blinked, surprised. Hosen was a year behind him, a vibrant, spirited girl who was the polar opposite of Mel's quiet shadow. "My sister? What about her?"
Jacob cleared his throat, a faint, calculated flush creeping up his neck. "I've noticed her. Around the halls. She's... she's remarkable. To be honest, Mel, I think I've fallen for her. I wanted to ask you to put in a word for me. Tell her I'm interested. Maybe help us find a way to talk without the whole school watching."
Mel felt a wave of protective worry. He knew Jacob's reputation; he knew how the boy treated others. But more than that, he knew the rules of their household.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Jacob," Mel whispered. "My father... he's very strict. He's made it clear that we aren't to involve ourselves in anything like that until we've graduated and finished our exams. If he found out Hosen was seeing someone—especially a senior—he'd be furious."
Jacob didn't look deterred. In fact, he leaned in closer, his gaze becoming more intense, more focused. He wasn't looking at the sister in his mind; he was looking at the boy in front of him.
"He doesn't have to find out, does he?" Jacob said softly. "It could be our secret. Besides, can you blame me? Hosen is... she's very pretty. She looks so much like you, Mel. It's actually striking."
Jacob's voice dropped a pitch, becoming smooth and velvet-edged. "You're both blessed with such good looks. It's a rare thing, to have that kind of... delicate beauty."
Mel felt the air leave his lungs. He was used to being called a toy, or being told he was too quiet, or being ignored entirely. He had never, in his seventeen years, been called beautiful. Even though Jacob was technically talking about his sister, the way his eyes lingered on Mel's lips and the curve of his jaw made the compliment feel direct, heavy, and terrifyingly intimate.
Mel looked down at his hands, his cheeks burning a bright, betraying pink. "I... I'm not... thank you. But she's the pretty one."
"Don't be modest," Jacob urged, his voice practically a purr. He was testing the waters, using Hosen as a human shield to see how Mel reacted to being admired. "The resemblance is undeniable. The eyes, the way you carry yourself... it's captivating."
The intensity in the small reading nook was becoming suffocating. Mel felt like he was being hunted, but the predator wasn't using teeth—he was using words.
"Anyway," Jacob continued, shifting his posture, "since we're on the topic of... hearts and interests. I'm curious. You're always so quiet, always alone. Do you have anyone? A love interest of your own?"
Mel shook his head immediately, his hair falling over his eyes. "No. No one."
Jacob leaned back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he prepared for the final, most dangerous test. "No? No girlfriend?"
Mel shook his head again.
"No boyfriend?" Jacob added, the words hanging in the air like a sudden frost.
The silence that followed was visceral. Mel's entire body went rigid. His breath hitched, and for a split second, the mask of the invisible boy slipped. He looked up, his eyes wide and startled, meeting Jacob's gaze with a look of pure, unadulterated shock.
In that moment, Mel felt exposed. It wasn't just the question; it was the fact that someone like Jacob—the Disciplinary Prefect, the son of the Principal—would even suggest the possibility. To a closeted boy like Mel, the word boyfriend was a landmine, a secret he kept buried under layers of silence and fear.
"I..." Mel stammered, his voice trembling. He forced himself to look away, his heart hammering so hard it hurt. "No. No, I don't."
Jacob watched him with the precision of a hawk. He saw the pause. He saw the way Mel's eyes had searched his for a fraction of a second, looking for judgment or perhaps... something else. The reaction told Jacob everything and nothing at once. It proved that the suggestion of men liking men wasn't an alien concept to Mel, but it didn't give him the "yes" he was starving for.
"I see," Jacob said, his voice returning to a neutral, almost clipped tone. He stood up, smoothing his blazer. "Well. Think about what I said about Hosen. You're a good brother, Mel. I'd hate for a girl like that to waste her time with someone who doesn't appreciate the... family aesthetic."
Jacob turned to leave, but he paused at the end of the aisle, looking back over his shoulder. Mel was still sitting at the table, a small, hunched figure in the dying light, looking profoundly shaken.
"Get home safe, Mel," Jacob said. "And remember... some secrets are better shared with the right people."
As Jacob walked out, Mel stayed in the chair for a long time. The library was dark now, and the silence felt different. It felt like the walls were closing in. He thought of Derrick's hand on his lip, and then Jacob's intense gaze, and the way the word boyfriend had sounded in the stillness of the room.
The waters had been tested.