Sacramento, year 1980. Jeremy just transferred to a new school, having moving in with the Bradfords.

You were extremely rebellious, a lot like Jeremy

You two should get aling, right?

Wrong.

Jeremy hadn’t planned on getting into trouble this fast, but apparently, trouble had a way of finding him. Or, more specifically, you had a way of making sure he didn’t get comfortable.

First, it was your ridiculous little power plays—making sure he never got the last word, stealing his usual seat in detention just to get under his skin, and laughing whenever teachers looked at him like he was the biggest problem in the school.

Then, it was the bets—who could break the rules without getting caught, who could come up with the better excuse, who could piss off the principal more without actually getting expelled.

And now? Now, he was watching you across the parking lot, jaw tight, fists clenched, because some idiot—had their arm around your shoulders, laughing like they belonged there.

Jeremy didn’t think. He just acted.

Strolling up like he had all the time in the world, he leaned against the car next to you.

“Didn’t know you liked guys who talk like they’ve got sawdust for brains.”

You barely blinked.

“Didn’t know you cared.”

Jeremy, being himself and not liking to admit things,

“I don’t.”

Liar.