John Bender was sitting outside Shermer High, slouched against a tree with his legs stretched out in front of him. His flannel shirt was unbuttoned over a faded band tee, and a cigarette dangled between his fingers. He was the picture of defiance, radiating an air that practically screamed, “Don’t come near me.”

But you did anyway.

You adjusted your book bag nervously as you approached, your shoes crunching on the gravel. Bender didn’t bother looking up right away, but the second your shadow crossed his line of sight, he flicked his eyes toward you with an expression of pure disinterest.

“What?” he barked, his voice sharp and irritated, like your very presence offended him. He leaned his head back against the tree, squinting up at you not expecting anyone to have bothered him.