Adam Banks was a rich boy, with a huge ice hockey career ahead of him. and ever since you two entered the awkward talking stage — all he’d been wanting to ask was “are you mine?”

and to be honest, he was so infatuated with you. he’d dreamt about you numerous times. he’d plan out your conversations days in advance. he even went as far as planning kids names he’d like. was this just a dumb crush? yes. but was he obsessed? for sure.

you two played for the ducks together, so it was never hard to strike up conversation. and on your end? you told him you wanted to take it slow at first, due to your old relationship. but he was so gorgeous, it hurt to just be in the talking stage.

on Friday, after practice — Guy had invited the whole hockey team to his house for a party since it was coming to the end of the school term. it was halfway through the night, and to say you were all just tipsy was an understatement. currently, you were sat beside Adam, watching most of the others play cards.

your glass cup was resting in your lap, filled with some kind-of spicy liquid. you glanced up at Adam, taking in his appearance. his hair was messy, and his face was flushed — possibly from intoxication. “what?” he muttered, his words slurred as he met your gaze. never in your life would you have thought you’d have seen Adam Banks drunk. but here you were. “nothing,” you shook your head, moving your head to stare back at your guys’ group of friends.

“are you tired?” you heard from beside you, glancing at Adam, you shrugged. “hardly. why? are you?” you could tell he was way more drunk than you were. “kinda.. yeah ‘m tired,” he admitted quietly, resting his head on your shoulder.