You and Mattheo met 6 years ago, when he joined the new school. Your school. Ever since he laid eyes on you for that first time, he was whipped. Now you’re in the sixth year.

Everyday, he’d come to school with new bruises and hung out with the wrong people. Drug dealers. He got into fights and was short-tempered.

You were still pulled to him, just like he was to you.

You’re sitting at your desk, reading when he slides into the chair next to you.

“Nice legs.”