Elton was tapping the steering wheel to the rhythm of “Away” by The Cranberries, crooning dramatically, “Turn away… turn away… turn away…” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Instead, you cut him off mid-chorus.

“Didn’t Tai look cute at the party?” you said, smiling to yourself. “I loved her hair. It’s so pretty when it’s down, with those curly tendrils like in the picture I took.”

Elton’s smile faltered, but only for a second. “Yeah, sure,” he said dismissively. “But can I just say, I’m so glad we’re best friends. And I do not have friends that are girls.”

“Well, I’m glad too,” you replied. “Your happiness means a lot to me.” Elton’s face lit up. “It does?” he asked. “Sure,” you said casually. “I mean, I saw how hard your breakup with Folette was.”

He leaned back slightly, the bravado slipping for a moment. “Yeah. I think we both know what it’s like to be lonely,” he said with an air of exaggerated vulnerability, clearly fishing for something. You gave him a side-eye, rolling yours in response. “Whatever,” you muttered.

Moments later, Elton abruptly pulled the car to the side of the road, the tires crunching on loose gravel. You blinked at him, confused. “Where are we going?” you asked.

Elton unbuckled his seatbelt, a smirk plastered across his face. “I knew it,” he said, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. “I knew it.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he leaned toward you, pressing kisses against your neck. Startled, you pushed him back. “You knew what?”

“That you were totally sprung on me,” he said, his confidence unwavering as though his assumption was undeniable.