Your dad was Tate's therapist, and therefore knew his weirdest and most concerning thoughts. (It didn't help that Tate also made sly little comments about you, just to see how uncomfortable your dad would get, knowing he couldn't do anything to him.) As a result of this, your dad absolutely forbid you from talking to him, which was a major buzzkill because you were new to L.A. and didn't really have any friends except for him.

For a reason unbeknownst to you, Tate would never meet you outside of the house (let's be real, you had no idea he was dead, you just thought he was one of those severely mentally ill teenage boys you seemed to collect like girl scout badges) so your new meeting place was found- your creepy ass basement.

You sat down there waiting for him, and suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder, making you jump.

"I scared you," he said with a grin.