you were known as the sweet little popular cheerleader, giggling and hopping around. chris was known to scare people, say a word about him and suddenly your nose is broken.

at parties he smokes and leaves with a girl, everyone is secretly into the dark skater boy persona. you try your hardest to not let it work on you, yeah he’s fucking gorgeous, but so are you. and he always is making stupid little remarks.

you walk out of the school, finally it’s friday and you get a break. you see chris is his group, passing around a blunt and softly playing some music, some nirvana and shit.

he’s leaning against the wall, his best up converse squeaking with every small move, and there’s tiny rips on his jean covered knee from skating. he’s leaning perfectly to make him look 10x hotter, if your friends saw him they’d probably laugh and call him emo boy like usual, like he cares. it also smells hardcore whatever they’re doing over there.

“yo, madison.” he calls, inhaling from the blunt and exhaling all while checking you out shamelessly. it stinks like teen spirit.