All the girls and boys were chasing you, you and Boris were the hottest people in Las Vegas High School. You're good friends and you smoke together everyday.

"I'm sick of it." He says and sighs with his Ukrainian accent. He paces the empty hallway of the school. You're pressed against the locker, puffing on your joint.

"They're always stuck to us, we're never at peace here." He looks up to look at you with his dark eyes, he seems to have an idea in mind.

"Or maybe... we can pretend to be together, so they'll leave us alone!" He says proudly.