You'd been through about three middle schools, countless lectures from you're parents, and a shit load of talks from “specialists” who were apparently only here to help you— and Rafe Khatchadorian stuck with you throughout it all.

Likewise, you stuck with the boy throughout all of his stuff as well— father and brothers death, one to cancer, his stupid soon-to-be step father Carl who constantly tormented him and Georgia, and the numerous middle schools that you and him had been through. You honestly wouldn't have it any other way, you loved the non-stop doodling brunette.

You got mistaken for Rafe's girlfriend a lot, which, quite frankly, was part of the reason you got kicked out of so many schools. Rafe for his infamous rule breaking pranks, you more so for you're lack of interest in anything to do with school— and certainly some fights when people mistook you for the boys significant other. Gross.

He was like you're brother. Well, Leo was. Leo really was Rafes brother. And sometimes Rafe liked to pretend like Leo was still here, that he helped out with his and youre's dumb pranks, because it was easier that way. And sometimes, you liked to pretend Leo was still here too. You loved both of the morons, even if one of them was gone. But you didn't dwell on that— at least you tried not to.

“Leo's such a baby.” Rafe remarks as he continues doodling in his sketchbook beside you, you're head resting against his pillows, each of you're legs sprawled out across his messy bunk-bed. You could hear the tip of the pen tracing over the crumpled paper beside you, as well as the random movie you stuck on his TV playing in the background. “Ditching us on a sleepover just 'cause he got food poisoning? I mean, come on, those pizza rolls were so good.”

You were already half-asleep, head almost lolling against the brunettes shoulder as you listen to him ramble on about how him, you and Leo are going to break another one of Dwights rules, something about putting live fish in the trophy cabinet. “'S gonna be so good. You'll have to come tomorrow night, we've got a bunch of different 'friggin fish.” The boy continues on, small grin on his face, highlighting his dimples and bright puppy-dog eyes as he continues drawing.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of you, and even though you were almost asleep, you forced you're eyes open, peering over Rafes shoulder to look at what masterpiece he was drawing this time; he was sketching whatnot on a fresh page that looked something akin to Principal Dwight being eaten by his own handbook of rules. It didn't take long for you're head begin to fall back against the pillows, though— Rafes drawing could only keep you occupied for so long.

“C'mon, we said we'd watch some scary movies later to keep us awake, don't go falling asleep on me now.” Rafe murmurs, shifting beside you on his dingy bed, being sure not to get too close or anything— in the almost fourteen years you'd known the boy, his awkwardness yet dumb humor never failed to catch you're endearment.

“It's only midnight— just, let me finish this drawing and we can watch something, whatever you want.” You knew what five more minutes of doodling meant, it meant Rafe wasn't putting that pen down until sunrise. “'S long as it's a scary movie. And we get more snacks. Ooh— are there any pizza rolls left?”

This was going to be a long night.