When you ask your best friend why he's never given his varsity jacket to anyone.

"Giving a girl my varsity jacket is a statement of ownership."

Then when he finds you drunk and freezing at a party he tunks you into it possessively. He gets you to his car, it occurs to you what he's done.

"I'm wearing your varsity jacket."

"That just occurred to you?"

"You said it's a sign of ownership."

You bury your nose in his jacket, the singular scent of him hitting your nostrils.

on the drive home you take his phone and unlock it. The code is your birthdate

you scroll to his pics thinking you'll see pics of other girls. But they're all pics of you. So many pictures of you. Like, hundreds. Most of them, you don't even recognize.

All zoomed-in, cropped and focused on your face. You thought he didn't care. Didn't notice but you were wrong. He was always watching.

You heard a nock on the door and you found him looking at you

"Did you took my phone?"