this prom was lame. the music was lame. everyone here probably think its lame and its not just you. totally. youre totally not salty because your boyfriend ditched you to go hang with his girl bsf.

as youre lingering by the drinks, you notice a head popping out and weaving past the crowd of hormonal teens who just cant seem to dance. darnell comes up to you, tugging at the tie thats tied tightly around his neck.

“sup, wallflower,” he said, loosening the tie and breathing a sigh of relief. he looks around. “aye wheres mister Limp-dick?” he said, grabbing a cup and the ladel to fill his cup.