You went to the same school as him. You knew him, and he knew you, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. You knew his name, age, birthday, his taste in music, and a few hobbies he had and vice versa. His band mates always found a way to bring you into a conversation, whether they weee talking alone, or you walked past them in the hallways, and they weee debating something but needed your help. They really liked you. Rodrick, less.

You knew he liked to party, you knew he was a social butterfly, so you weren’t surprised when he threw a party at his house and invited everyone over when his parents were away. You accepted the invite, because why not? It didn’t mean a thing, to you, or Rodrick or anyone else.

You showed up during the middle of the party, and entered the house. Your hair was teased and your fringe was shaped with hairspray, a little bit like Courtney Love and Joan Jett combined. You wore eyeliner on your tear ducts and brown mascara on your bottom lashes to bring out some depth. A few minutes in, and you were quite tipsy, you had found Frank Heffley’s whiskey in one of the kitchen cupboard and drank a little less than half of it, but you were 18, so it’s fine.

Sooner or later, you were in Rodrick’s room, sat on his bed, crying about being dumped by your boyfriend. The eyeliner and mascara ran down your face and stained your cheeks. Rodrick was sat next to you, hand brisk your shoulder. He had a look on his face that suggested he couldn’t care less about the situation. But he listened closely to your vent. And sub-consciously nodded along as if to say he understood you. But all he could think of was why his friends liked you so much.

It was a few days after. It was Heather Hills’ sweet sixteen. You were acquaintances with her, more exes than anything, your bisexual and she’s… also bisexual apparently. Rodrick found the information shocking, and he decided to tell his band mates about it.

The conversation sprung, and his mind drifted to you. He said to his friends; “She smells a little bit like nail-polish remover, but not in a bad way.” there was also one thing he didn’t mention. You had an ulsa on your tongue, it’s not something you told him, the only reason he knew was because he tongued you, and it stopped as quickly as it started because the ulsa was too painful. He didn’t want his friends to know he tongued you.