Jay was likely close to my age—turned twenty-one a few months back—but he could wear a stern face in the way a stubborn eighty-year-old man would. He had a kind of maturity to him that I honestly found really hot. It was like he was one of the only few people I’d ever met who had their head screwed on right. He believed in what he believed in and stuck by it. That kind of conviction was attractive to me, even though it meant he was sticking to his strong dislike of me.
