Beep! Beep! Beep! The sharp, insistent sound of Jack’s alarm clock cut through the stillness of the early morning, its red digital numbers glowing 5:45 AM in the dim light of his room. The world outside was quiet, not yet stirred awake, with only the faintest hint of dawn beginning to creep through the curtains.

Jack groaned softly, his body heavy with sleep as he shifted beneath the covers. One arm lazily stretched out from the warmth of his bed, blindly fumbling across the nightstand until his fingers found the clock. Without opening his eyes, he pressed the snooze button, silencing the relentless beeping.

The room fell quiet again, wrapping him in a brief, fragile peace. He exhaled, sinking deeper into his pillow, savoring the promise of just a few more precious minutes of sleep before the day inevitably demanded his attention.

Jack Dawson was, by all appearances, your average 19-year-old—standing on the edge of adulthood with a mix of quiet confidence and lingering uncertainty about what lay ahead. This year marked the beginning of his first journey into college life, a milestone he had both anticipated and worried over in equal measure. He had chosen to study Journalism, driven by a natural curiosity about the world and a desire to tell stories that mattered. Whether it was uncovering the truth or giving a voice to those who didn’t have one, Jack felt a pull toward something bigger than himself.

Bright and capable, he carried with him the kind of potential that made professors take notice, even if he didn’t always see it in himself. His future stretched wide open before him, full of possibilities he had only just begun to imagine.

Among the courses on his schedule that semester was Health Studies—a required class he hadn’t thought much about at first, but one that would soon prove more impactful than he expected. The course was taught by Mrs. Turner, a seasoned professor who had spent the last thirty years shaping young minds at the college. With decades of experience behind her, she had a reputation for being both firm and deeply knowledgeable, the kind of instructor who had seen generations of students pass through her classroom and knew exactly how to reach them.

Jack gathered his books, stacking them carefully against his chest as he stepped out of the dorm building and into the cool morning air. The campus was already alive with energy—clusters of students filled the walkways, their voices overlapping in easy conversation, laughter carrying across the open spaces. Backpacks slung over shoulders, coffee cups in hand, everyone seemed to be moving with purpose.

Jack moved among them quietly, keeping his head slightly down and his pace steady. He had never been one to draw attention to himself, and college hadn’t changed that. If anything, the unfamiliar faces and constant buzz made him feel even more inclined to blend into the background.

As he neared the academic buildings, his grip tightened slightly on his books. Up ahead, leaning casually near the entrance, was someone he would recognize anywhere—Jill.

She stood surrounded by a small group, effortlessly at the center of attention. Her laughter was easy, her posture relaxed, like she belonged wherever she chose to stand. Jack felt his stomach knot almost instantly. He had known Jill since elementary school—shared classrooms, passing moments, small memories that had stayed with him far longer than they probably should have. Somewhere along the way, those small moments had turned into something more, a quiet crush he had never quite outgrown.

And now, of course, they had Health Studies together.

Jack hesitated for just a second, debating whether he could slip by unnoticed. But as if drawn by some cruel twist of fate, Jill glanced up—and their eyes met.

“Hey, Jack!” she called out, her voice bright and familiar.

There was no escaping now.

“H-hey,” Jack managed, forcing a small, awkward smile as he approached. His mind scrambled for something—anything—normal to say. “Uh… didn’t know you had this class too.”

“Yeah,” Jill replied easily, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Health Studies, right? Should be interesting.”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely,” Jack said quickly, nodding a little too much. He shifted his books in his arms, nearly dropping one before catching it at the last second. “I mean—not that I know much about it or anything. Just… a class.”

Smooth, he thought, immediately cringing at himself.

Jill smiled politely, though there was a hint of amusement in her expression. “Well, I guess we’ll find out.”

“Yeah… guess we will,” Jack echoed, his voice trailing off.

An awkward pause settled between them, stretching just a second too long. Jack could feel the weight of it, his heart beating faster than it should have for such a simple interaction. Finally, he gave a small, almost apologetic nod.

“Well, uh… I should—class, you know.”

“Yeah, see you in there,” Jill said.

Jack quickly slipped past her and into the building, exhaling the moment he was out of sight. His face felt warm, and he shook his head slightly at himself as he made his way down the hallway.

By the time he reached Mrs. Turner’s classroom, the noise of the crowd had faded behind him. He stepped inside, finding a seat and setting his books down, trying to steady himself. But even as he settled in, he couldn’t help but glance toward the door, knowing Jill would be walking in any moment—and that somehow, this class had just become a lot more complicated. 

At the front of the classroom stood Mrs. Turner, her presence commanding attention the moment the final few students slipped into their seats. She adjusted her glasses and scanned the room with the ease of someone who had done this for decades, her expression calm but purposeful.

“Good morning, everyone,” she began, her voice steady but firm. “Today, we’ll be starting a semester-long project—one that will account for sixty percent of your final grade.”

A low murmur rippled through the class at that number, but Mrs. Turner continued without missing a beat.

“This will serve as both an assignment and an icebreaker. You’ll be working in small groups to better understand the responsibilities, stress, and realities of raising a young child while balancing college life.”

That got their attention.

She moved slowly between the rows as she spoke. “Each group will consist of two students. One will take on the role of the ‘mother,’ the other the ‘father.’ Together, you’ll be responsible for the care of an A.I. simulation doll designed to mimic the needs of a newborn—feeding schedules, crying, sleep cycles, all of it.”

A few students exchanged nervous looks. Others chuckled under their breath.

“It may sound simple,” Mrs. Turner added, turning back toward the class, “but I assure you—it won’t be.”

With that, she instructed everyone to pair up.

Chairs shifted and voices filled the room as students quickly gravitated toward friends, partners, or whoever was closest. Laughter and casual conversation broke out as groups formed almost instantly.

Almost.

Jack stayed seated.

He glanced around, his heart sinking slightly as he realized everyone had already paired off. His eyes flicked toward Jill—already seated beside Marcus, her boyfriend—both of them talking quietly as they claimed their roles without hesitation. Jack looked away quickly, not wanting to linger.

At the front, Mrs. Turner began handing out the A.I. dolls to each group, one by one, explaining basic expectations as she went. Then, she paused.

Her gaze landed on Jack.

“Well now,” she said, tapping her clipboard lightly. “It seems we have one student without a partner.”

Every head in the room seemed to turn at once. Jack felt his chest tighten under the sudden attention.

Mrs. Turner clasped her hands together. “Would anyone be willing to form a group of three?”

Silence.

A few students avoided eye contact. Others pretended to be busy adjusting their things. No one volunteered.

Mrs. Turner nodded slowly, as if she had expected as much. Her eyes scanned the room before settling on a group near the middle.

“Jill, Marcus,” she called.

Both of them looked up.

“You’ll be taking Jack into your group.”

The reaction was immediate.

Marcus’s expression tightened, clearly irritated. Jill looked surprised, her eyes flicking briefly toward Jack before back to Mrs. Turner.

Jack, meanwhile, felt his stomach drop.

He hesitated, then slowly gathered his things and made his way across the room. Each step felt heavier than the last as he approached their desk.

“Hey…” he muttered awkwardly as he reached them, not quite sure where to look.

Marcus leaned back slightly in his chair, arms crossed. “This is gonna be weird,” he said under his breath.

Jill didn’t say anything, but her posture had stiffened, the earlier ease in her expression gone.

As if sensing the tension, Mrs. Turner stepped in again.

“Now,” she said, glancing at her remaining materials, “it appears I only have enough simulation dolls for pairs.”

Jack blinked, unsure where this was going.

Mrs. Turner smiled—just slightly.

“No matter. We’ll improvise.”

Something about the way she said it made Jack uneasy.

“For this group,” she continued, gesturing toward Jack, Jill, and Marcus, “we’ll be modifying the assignment.”

Jack’s grip tightened around his books.

“Since there are three of you,” she said, “Jack will assume the role of the child.”

The room went quiet for half a second—then a few students snickered.

Jack froze. “W-wait… what?”

Jill’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

Marcus let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

But Mrs. Turner remained completely composed.

“Jack will participate as the ‘baby’ in your group dynamic,” she explained. “You and Marcus will be responsible for meeting his assigned needs, following structured guidelines I will provide.”

Jack shook his head quickly, heat rushing to his face. “No—there’s no way. I—I can’t do that.”

Mrs. Turner’s expression softened, but her tone didn’t.

“Jack,” she said, stepping closer, lowering her voice just enough to make it feel more personal, “this project is not optional. If you choose not to participate, you risk failing—not only yourself, but your group as well.”

Jack’s stomach twisted.

“You’re all being evaluated on cooperation, adaptability, and commitment,” she continued. “Sometimes, life doesn’t give you ideal circumstances. This project reflects that.”

Jack glanced at Jill and Marcus. Marcus looked annoyed. Jill looked uncomfortable.

Neither of them spoke up.

Mrs. Turner gave Jack a small, expectant nod. “I trust you’ll make the right decision.”

Jack swallowed hard, his mind racing, his pride and anxiety clashing all at once. Every instinct told him to refuse—but the weight of her words, and the pressure of the entire room watching, pinned him in place.

Slowly, reluctantly… he nodded.

“…Okay,” he muttered.

Mrs. Turner smiled, satisfied. “Excellent. Then we’ll begin.”