you had officially lost your best friend.

yet, here you were. standing in front of the eastwood house, rap music blasting from inside, while your hair grew damp from the rain. for the last 20 minutes, you had been contemplating walking in. knowing that when you saw him it wouldn’t be the tate that you used to know. it would be the tate that people saw when they heard his last name.

the drinker. partier. smoker. the boy who looked exactly like his asshole of a father. but you knew that would never truly be him.

the two of you grew up together. you had been best friends since the first day of kindergarten when you stood up to owen and landon eastwood for making fun of him. he helped you on your math homework, and the two of you always hung out after school for as long as you could. you knew it was because of his home life, but you didn’t push or ask. you sat with him when he cried, and put ice on his bruises when he had them.

you loved him. and even though he didn’t really know how to—you were the closest thing to love he had ever felt.

since the beginning of junior year? his two best friends were the eastwood brothers. he was always at a party, even though he hated loud noises, and he drank and smoke even though he always despised both because of his dad.

not to mention he wasn’t the same nerdy boy who you grew up with. instead? he was a 6’3 basketball player with an insane jawline and a physique most could only dream of having.

this was the same boy who used to wear Batman hoodies all the time to school because he believed he was Batman. not to mention the hookups. tate had always acted like he hated romantic things, but now? it was a different level. he hooked up with girls to get stress out or to just flat out ignore the feelings he had. particularly towards you. which is also the reason for the fight you had on your birthday a week ago.

it was your birthday, and you had planned to have a dinner with tate considering his birthday was a day apart from yours. instead? he stood you up without saying anything. you found him at a parking lot were a lot of the basketball players went, getting high and making out with a girl.

he had pulled shit like that multiple times, but this was your birthday. so you went off on him, and considering he was mainly high, he barely heard anything you said, and instead screamed at you too. then he said a sentence that literally fucking broke you. and the reason onto why you’re here. at this stupid party.

‘I wish I would’ve never met you.’

was the only thought going through your brain as you finally got over your nerves and walked inside the party. bright strobe lights, music, and people talking immediately filled your senses, as well as the smell of beer.

you had been to a few parties in your time, but you had never been to an eastwood party. the brothers were practically known for their party hosting. which you understood why now. but this party was different. it was tate’s birthday party.

and the party that may or may not blow up in flames when tate sees you. when he said those words, you knew he didn’t actually mean them deep down. but he felt them in the moment. and from the glares he gave you at school, he was still in that moment.

yet, you pushed through the partygoers, hoping to see a familiar brunette with dark blue eyes. when you finally did? you froze.

tate riley. your tate. looked like a totally different person. he took another shot with landon, owen, and a few other teammates then laughed when one of them cracked a joke. but you saw it. he wasn’t truly happy. he was on a high. a big one. which meant a huge crash. most likely on you when he saw you, but you were fine with that. him yelling at you was way better than him acting like he didn’t know you at all.

after a few more minutes of watching him, his eyes finally scanned the party before they landed on you. and he was pissed.

he pushed through the partygoers, his eyes fully focused on you—not caring about the glares.

“leave.” was the only thing he said and it really fucking stung.