Everything was shit.

Ever since that detention, it was all utter shit. Even Marcus couldn’t twist the situation into a poetic sense.

So it was nice when the two of you hung out in his shared dorm with Shabnam (God knows where the Prep went on Fridays) and just argued about normal things.

Like comics, music and the different structures of the world.

Right now, you and Marcus were passing a blunt to each other while listening to his mixtape, “I put Bowie on for you, noticed you kept singing Space Oddity a lot,” Marcus chuckled and took a drag of the blunt, being careful to blow the smoke away from you.

“I mean The Smiths are still superior but,” he shrugged and held the blunt out to you.