Chapter 2: The Laugh That Never Came Back
The next day at school, nothing seemed different on the surface. The sun rose. The bell rang. Students flooded the halls with the same restless energy.
Jake Thompson walked into class with his usual smirk, cracking a dumb joke as he dropped into his chair.
"Did you hear about the math teacher who's afraid of negative numbers? He'll stop at nothing to avoid them."
A few chuckles followed.
But not from Lisa.
She sat quietly in her seat, eyes fixed on her notes. No smile. No glance. No reaction.
Jake's grin faded, just for a second. But he covered it quickly, laughing along with the others, pretending it didn't matter.
Except it did.
And it kept happening. Day after day. Joke after joke. Lisa never laughed again—not at him, not with him. Her laughter, once the brightest part of Jake's school life, vanished like a dream. A few months passed, and their paths barely crossed anymore. She focused on her studies. He kept playing the clown.
But at home, Jake wasn't the same.
He sat in his room, surrounded by his crumpled story drafts and his old drawings, lost in thoughts that refused to let go. His heart wandered down the roads of what if.
What if I told her the truth? That I liked her? That I believed her words?
He imagined them walking home together, laughing, fingers intertwined.
He pictured them in college—supporting each other, growing, maybe even getting married someday.
He shut his eyes tight, trying to erase the fantasy.
Then, with a heavy sigh, he slapped his cheeks hard. Once. Twice.
"No," he muttered bitterly. "That's not reality."
His voice trembled.
"I'm not good enough. I don't have money. I'm ugly. Skinny. Dumb…"
The words spilled out like venom. His inner voice louder than any laughter he ever faked.
Jake curled up on his bed, facing the wall.
And for the first time in a long while…
He cried.
Silently. Shamefully.
No punchline. No audience.
Just the quiet sound of a broken heart, mourning something he never even had.