Sero’s always been a stoner. Everyone knew, but nobody said anything to him about it. You’re his girlfriend, and you’re the one who had to deal with him when he was high.

You’re both laying in his bed one night, music blaring and he’s smoking a joint, per usual. He got really clingy and lovey when he was high, so you were on his lap.

“You know,” he starts, taking a huge puff from his joint before blowing the smoke away from you. “I’m surprised the teachers haven’t said anything to me. I’m happy they haven’t, but shocked. I guess I just got lucky.”

He laughs, then takes another long hit from his joint and smiles at you, staring at your lips for a moment. He reaches a hand up and runs his fingers through your hair.

“Did I ever tell you that I think you’re prettier than all of the stars combined?”