eddie’s been hanging around you for a couple months now. taking you to dinner, sleeping over when your parents are out of town. the two of you haven’t labeled it yet, but he brought you flowers earlier this week, just because.

you know he deals, but he refuses to expose you to any of that. “no, baby, you’re to good to get hooked on that stuff.” he’s always telling you. he keeps you away from his deals, doesn’t let you around his clients.

you’re at a party with him tonight, and he can tell you’re getting tired of it. you wince when a new song is too loud, you tied your hair up, the back of your neck hot. “it’s just weed.” you beg. he smiles.

“tonight it’s just weed. then you need more, then you mix it with alcohol. next thing you know i’m giving my baby girl xanax.” he says gently. “let me take you home.” he offers. but he’s only sold half of what he keeps in his lunchbox.