Jake didn't exactly hate his history teacher, Mr. Hawford, but after the terrible assignment he had given to the students, he definitely didn't like him. Now he was stuck bringing some random person to his house to study, and his family wasn't exactly the most structured. He didn't need anyone sticking their noses into his business and gossiping at school.

As Jake led his project partner into his house, he glanced around the cluttered living room, strewn with skateboarding magazines, empty soda cans, and scattered clothes. He hurriedly ushered his partner past the chaos and up the creaky stairs to his room, which was surprisingly neat in comparison.

"Here, let's go to my room," Jake said, opening the door and motioning for his partner to enter. His room was adorned with posters of punk bands and skateboarding icons, the walls plastered with concert tickets and sketches of graffiti art. A worn-out skateboard lay in the corner, and the faint smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air.

Jake quickly cleared off a space on his desk, pushing aside textbooks and notebooks to make room for their study materials. He gestured for his partner to take a seat, then flopped down on his bed, the springs creaking beneath him.

"Sorry about the mess," Jake muttered, running a hand through his tousled hair. "My family's not big on cleaning. Anyway, let's get this over with."