A/N: I am loving Manifest right now. Thanks to all the other writers for putting stories out there. I'm enjoying them. :-) Thought I'd try my hat at one of my own.

Jared slung his backpack over his shoulder and closed his locker shut. With little enthusiasm, he made his way to the second floor of St. Agnes and to Mr. Kipman's Spanish 1 class. Jared was Cuban and completely fluent in Spanish, but he needed an easy A to continue playing football. Working 30 hours a week as a bag boy at the local grocery store on top of football practice left little time for actual studying. He was bright and could have straight As if he had the time to study. There just wasn't enough time in the day. That's why he was in desperate need of a blow-off class.

At eighteen, he should be living a carefree life with the only worries on his mind being the football game Friday night and which college football scout would notice him. Yet that wasn't what fate had in store for him. His father's death two years ago made a worry free life impossible. There were lots of worries, lots of bills. His mom was doing the best she could but a teacher's salary supporting 4 kids was hardly enough so Jared did what he could to chip in. He'd wanted to quit football, but his mom had refused saying that football was his ticket to college. She told him she didn't care if she had to have 3 jobs; she'd find a way to get him to college. A soft smile passed across his face as he thought of all his mom did for him, the sacrifices she'd made. All of it wouldn't be in vain. He would go to college. He would graduate. He would make something of himself and he would make sure she was set up for the rest of her life.

The Genetics class he'd originally been enrolled in just hadn't worked out. He'd failed the first test miserably since he'd had little time to do any of the readings for the class or review the study guide before the test. The night he'd brought home his test Jared and his mom had started discussing other options.

"Mijo, what about a Spanish class?" she'd asked as she perused the high school's course catalog online.

Jared had chuckled. "Hablo español muy bien mamá. I don't think I need it, do you?"

"I know, but wouldn't it be nice to have a class you didn't have to do a bunch of studying for? You're doing too much and beating yourself up for what you can't do. Jared, it's OK if you're not perfect at everything. You're just a kid. Give yourself a break."

"I'm not a kid, ma. I'm eighteen. I'm a man."

His mother had ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead. "There will be time enough to be a man later. Enjoy this time as much as you can. You'll miss it when you're older. Besides this could really boost your GPA. You might even be able to have a 3.0. this year"

So he'd visited the counselor's office and transferred to first period Spanish. He wasn't going to learn much, but maybe he'd get in an extra hour of sleep. He'd pick somewhere in the back so as not to be conspicuous.

The bell rung as he took a seat. Mr. Kipman handed a stack of papers to a girl with long, blonde hair. She began to pass out the papers to everyone in class. He watched as she made her way through the aisles. She was pretty. He wondered why he'd never seen her before. Probably because she was a year or two behind him.

When she stopped in front of his desk, he smiled. "Hi. I'm Jared. What's your name?"

The girl looked at him suspiciously, handed him the last paper in her hands, turned quickly on her heels, and headed back to her own desk all without saying a single word.

The abruptness of her actions forced a bark of laughter out of his lungs. He normally didn't get that kind of response with girls. His weekends were usually full with work and football, but when he did get a night off it wasn't too hard to find someone to spend it with. That's why this girl's response was so surprising.

He almost wrote her off as a bristly and stuck-up until he caught her quickly glancing back at him much to the giggling delight of the two girls next to her. No, Jared wasn't quite sure what this girl's deal was, but it wasn't that she was snobby.

His plans to nap went out the window as he instead preceded to spend the next hour staring at the blonde girl and formulating a plan to get her to talk to him.

What is wrong with me? Michaela thought to herself as she made her way back to her seat hearing the incredibly good looking guy's chuckle behind her. Did she forget how to speak English? How hard is it to say my name is Michaela? That guy Jared probably thought she was a mute idiot.

As she plopped into her seat next to her best friends, Lourdes and Evie, she desperately wished she had their extremely high levels of confidence. Evie was fearless and could talk to anybody. Lourdes was a veritable siren. She'd been wrapping boys around her finger since fourth grade. Opening up and sharing didn't come as easy to Michaela. And when people were pushing her to do one thing she more often than not did the exact opposite. Everybody was always wanting her to be a certain way. Her parents wanted her to be as perfect as Ben, making good grades, participating in sports, being all smiley and pleasant and crap. Her friends wanted her to be more adventurous and flirty. Slightly defiant, Michaela wanted to determine her own destiny at her own pace and in her own way. She wouldn't, couldn't allow someone else to tell her how to do things. Her parents called her stubborn. Her friends called her a loner. She was who she was and if they didn't like it, then tough crackers.

Michaela rolled her eyes at her friends' overeager expressions.

"I think that guy was flirting with you," Evie whispered loudly.

"You think he's cute, don't you? You're practically blushing," Lourdes teased, her voice also at a maximum whisper.

"He must think you're cute too 'cuz he's still staring at you."

Michaela risked a quick peek back at him which she instantly regretted as her friends burst into a giggling fit.

"Shut up," she growled through gritted teeth.

"What'd he say to you?" Lourdes asked.

"He just asked me what my name was. It wasn't a big deal."

"And you just stared at him. Didn't smile? Didn't say anything?" Evie shook her head already knowing the answer to her question. "You've been hit on a hundred times, Mick, and you scare them all away."

Michaela rolled her eyes. "I have not been hit on a hundred times."

"You totally do, Mick" Lourdes chimed in, agreeing with Evie, the traitor. "You look at them like this until they wet themselves."

Lourdes stared at Michaela unblinkingly with a scowl on her face. "You disgust me with your raging hormones and body odor. Begone from my presence, peasant" Lourdes joked, mimicking a French accent.

"Yep, that's it. That's the face," Evie pointed and laughed. "That's exactly what you do."

"Do not," Michaela replied. Secretly she wondered if what her friends was saying was true. Did she give off that negative of a vibe?

"You kind of do, Mick," Evie said, more gently this time sensing that the direction the conversation was taking was starting to bother her friend. "If you're too intimidating, guys aren't going to ask you out. If you like a guy, you have to give them some encouragement. Smile. Just smile. At the very least it'll show you're approachable and not a fire-breathing dragon."

"Easy for you to say," Michaela murmured under her breath.

Lourdes interjected. "There'll come a day when our little Mick will have her first boyfriend, have her first kiss, get laid. She's just not ready for all of that right now. Or maybe she needs to get her eyes checked because Jared Vasquez is one of the hottest guys in school." Sighing dreamily, she rested her hand under her chin.

"Do you know him?" Michaela asked.

"Not personally. I just know he's a senior. On the football team. Six feet tall. Dark brown hair. Chocolate eyes. Father of my children."

Michaela thought nothing of her friend's encyclopedic knowledge of Jared. Lourdes had always been kind of boy crazy. "What would Chris say?"

"Nothing because I'd dump him so quick his head would spin if Jared Vasquez ever asked me out."

"Oh, yeah," Evie said, snapping her fingers, her memory sparked. Lowering her voice, she said, "His dad died like 2 years ago. There was an armed robbery at a gas station and his dad got shot. I remember seeing it on the news. It was really sad. I don't think they ever caught the guy who did it."

Michaela shot another look Jared's way. Evie's insight making her look at him in a whole new light. She watched as he worked on his assignment. His smile had been genuine when she'd handed him his paper, but his eyes had held a hint of sadness. She couldn't explain it in words but she felt drawn to him. Maybe it was just hormones, but she really wanted to get to know this guy. There was just something about him. Too bad she'd already blown her chance.

When he looked up and caught her staring, Michaela thought what the heck I'll take Evie's advice.

She didn't turn her head, didn't look away. She just…smiled.