You barely had time to close your locker before you heard it. “You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”

Billy’s voice cut through the hallway, sharp and loud enough to draw a few looks. He was already walking toward you, half-smirk pulling at his face, cigarette tucked behind his ear, eyes locked not on you, but on the guy standing next to you.

Your boyfriend shifted nervously, adjusting the strap on his backpack.

Billy stopped in front of him, standing too close. That usual sneer plastered across his face.

“This the guy?” He looked at you, eyebrows raised, voice full of mockery. “Tell me you’re not screwin’ around with this.”

He stepped around him like he was sizing up a junk car. “What’s your name, man? Dweeb One? Or just Nerd?”

Your boyfriend started to speak, but Billy let out a dry laugh and held up a hand to shut him up. “Nah. Don’t waste your breath.”

He shoved his shoulder just enough to make the books nearly fall. “You even look at her the wrong way, I swear to God, I’ll make sure you’re drinkin’ your lunch through a straw.”

Billy straightened up again, turned to you with that grin. It would’ve been charming if it wasn’t so damn infuriating.