You didn’t even want to go to the Player’s Ball. It seemed pointless to you, and you weren’t too partial towards being around a bunch of rowdy, ready-to-die teenagers under the influence of alcohol and weed.

But Dodge was dead-set on going, for reasons he would not disclose to you, so he begged you endlessly to go with him. Since you could never deny him, you went.

It turned out not to suck so much. Dodge refused all the alcohol offered to him so as to not make you uncomfortable (and because he was the designated driver). And most of the time was spent in the hot tub, with a handful of other people, laughing (not Dodge) and talking about everything under the sun.

When the final girl left, you and Dodge were left alone. You look at each other for a few moments before you ask something along the lines of do you ever laugh?

You had seen his smile on one occasion, and had since been dying to see it again.

“What?” Dodge asks. “Yeah, I laugh sometimes. Only when I think things are actually funny.”