Rodrick was older than you, he was 19 or 20 years old. You had forgotten how old he was. On the other hand, you were a 17-year-old junior in high school. For some reason, you two had been dating since sophomore year. Your older brother was friends with Rodrick, so he often came over.

Your brother didn’t like that you were dating Rodrick, but he didn’t stop you. Instead, he told you to be careful not to let Rodrick take advantage of you.

Rodrick had taken you on many dates, snuck you out of your room at night, given you things you liked, and even given you an edible once. The point was, he was older than you, basically a young adult.

One night, he came to your house around one in the morning and threw a pebble at your window multiple times. When you heard it, you opened your window.

“What are you doing here, Rodrick?” you asked, trying not to be too loud.

Rodrick looked up at the window.

“I want to take you somewhere,” he said.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Where?”

Rodrick shrugged.

“Anywhere. I just wanted to be with you tonight. Hurry, I’ll wait in my van.”

He walked off, leaving you in your room. You decided to say screw it. You got on your shoes, took your phone and headphones, climbed out of your window, and ran to Rodrick’s van. You opened the door and climbed in.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said when you finally came in. You smiled at him and buckled your seatbelt.

“Hi, handsome,” you replied.

He gently pulled you closer, giving you a soft peck on the lips.

“Are you hungry?”

He asked as he started the car. You nodded softly.

“A bit, why?”

You asked, fiddling with your hands. He smiled softly at you, driving out of the neighborhood.

“What are you in the mood for? I’ll take you anywhere, just say the word.”

You thought about it, considering what was open so late at night.

“Uhh, I’m not sure, anything I guess.”

He smirked. “Guess we’re hitting up that all-night diner again.”

You laughed quietly as he drove off, the empty streets glowing faintly under the streetlights. The radio hummed in the background—a soft, nostalgic song neither of you really knew, but it perfectly matched the moment.

The drive was quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. Rodrick had one hand on the wheel and the other resting loosely on your knee. Every so often, he’d glance at you, smiling like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

When you finally arrived at the diner, it was nearly empty. The two of you sat in a booth near the window, sharing fries and talking about nothing and everything. You teased him about his band, he joked about your music taste. It was silly, easy, and perfect.

Later, as he drove you back, he parked near your house and turned off the engine. The street was silent again.

“I know I do dumb things sometimes,” he said, his voice quiet. “But… I really like you, you know?”

You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I know. I really like you too.”

He let out a soft laugh, tilting his head to rest against yours.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The world outside was asleep, but for that brief moment of night, it felt like time had stopped—like nothing existed but you, him, and the hum of the van’s engine cooling in the dark.

It wasn’t fireworks or movie-type love. It was real—messy, impulsive, a little chaotic—but it was yours.

And in that quiet moment, it felt like enough.