Your parents had been clear from the start.

Rodrick Heffley was not someone you were supposed to see.

They called him a bad influence, said he was always in trouble, that his family was a mess and nothing good could come from a guy like him.

And honestly, they weren’t completely wrong...

Rodrick was always fighting with his family, breaking rules, showing up late, acting like he didn’t care about anything… except you.

He never gave up. He tried everything. He wrote you songs —terrible ones, if you were being honest— but they had your name in them, slightly wrong, and somehow that made them matter. He tried writing letters, but he quit fast because he didn’t know how to say things without sounding stupid. He switched to short notes instead, folded and messy, full of spelling mistakes and crossed-out words.

“thinking about you“ “just give me a chance” “i’m not that bad”

You always said no. Over and over again. You told him your parents would never allow it, that you didn’t want trouble, that it wasn’t worth it. He nodded like he understood, like this time would be the last… and then he tried again.

That’s why the soft knock on your window didn’t completely shock you that night. Gentle, insistent. Your heart started racing as you pulled the curtain aside just enough to see him standing there, clinging to the edge like this wasn’t a terrible idea. Rodrick smiled at you, casual, reckless, like he hadn’t climbed your house in the middle of the night just to see you. He lifted his hand and tapped the glass again, eyes locked on yours.