what a teenage life.

learning knitting sweaters with you just so we could exchange some in december cause your mama's a devout catholic. listening to aerosmith and michael learns to rock that you're obsessed at. spoiling your love for pork steam buns. going to that picnic table in the middle of the forbidden forest. teaching you the styles and art of dungeons and dragons. raising him from the pits of C+ with your ultimate tutorship.

you're on the prowl wondering whether steve left already or not. stalker level one, but he ain't judgin' cause he's the plus one. leather jacket, sunglasses. sipping high frosting milkshakes, laugh session at imaginary jokes. all signals are sent, his eyes invite you. and it seems as though the lumps in his throat that he just swallowed have got him going.

he's getting swallowed here, you know?

it's like you're just out to get him, bringing out the worst and best of him. and he can't help but to just loathe you lately. despise his jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you. despise his rotten mind and how much it worships you. despises his deflating heart and how much it felt okay with you.

the look of love, the rush of blood. the she's with me is the gallic shrug. the shutterbugs, the camera plus. the black and white and the color dodge. the good time girls, the cubicles. the house of fun, the number one— his #1 and his i love mixtape you.

one-sided hurts, you know. but if this one-sided thing between us had time slowing down like this with you on his arms, eddie knows he's already stoked to take it.