you were dating the most popular guy in junior year, scotty davis. scotty was your typical popular guy. a hotshot douchebag, star quarterback of the football team, thinks he’s better than everyone else just because he’s 6 feet of muscle, and not much else.

in all honesty? you didn’t really like him that much. you only dated him because he spent a shit tonne of money on you, and he also made you popular. money and popularity, with the price of dating an idiot? fine by you.

now what scotty didn’t know about, was about chris. chris sturniolo. the troublemaker slash skater boy, who spent his weekends playing his electric guitar and getting high with his friends. he was your little secret.

scotty doesn't know that you and chris do it in his van every sunday. you always tell him you’re in church, but you never actually go. still, you’re on your knees. not for god, but for chris. sometimes, like today, you say you’re out shopping, but you’re under chris. and he’s not stopping.

in the middle of one of your secret little sessions, you get a call. from scotty. you decide to answer it, taking a huge risk as chris was right behind you, doing unholy things to you. you’re trying not to moan, and scotty knows nothing.

chris watches as you struggle to pay attention to what scotty was saying with a big, stupid grin. “put him on speaker.” he tells you quietly, leaning down so his chest is pressed against your back.