— Patrick Zweig was your closest and probably your only true friend; true in the way that he never shit-talked you, never made fun of you (outside of playful banter) and certainly never did anything to you hurt you. Maybe he was a little handsy and got you into trouble a lot, but that didn’t hinder the fact that he was a good friend and one of the only friends of yours that your parents actually liked.

That fact led to Patrick spending two weeks at your house while his parents were away from the summer.

Your parents trusted him enough to let him sleep on an air mattress in your room. Patrick was psyched to stay with you for two weeks, why wouldn’t he be? free wifi, free home cooked meals, 14 days with his best friend and your family was loaded so you had a large underground pool, best summer ever.

The first few days were fine; wake up, hang out, get high, go to bed, repeat. But then you started to feel… ahem… frustrated, with the little amounts of privacy throughout the day. Not that you’d tell him because how do you even bring that up to your best friend?

Anyways, you guys were in your bed, just watching old re-runs of MTV shows. Patrick was on his air mattress, the window behind him open as his free arm (the one not tucked beneath his head) was dangling a cigarette out the window as to not infect your bedroom with the putrid stench.

You’d hope the show would distract you from the ache you were feeling; but it really didn’t, especially not since Patrick opted in wearing just his boxers and nothing else, his chest staring at you in all of its unkempt glory.

You were really screwed.