Tyler nervously fidgeted with the ends of his jacket, eyes scanning over his surroundings repetitively. If someone saw him here with you, it could possibly taint his reputation. Not that he had much of one, but he had a job and a social life, so that was at stake.

He wasn’t scared of smoking weed, necessarily, which teen in Jericho didn’t use some kind of substance? It was being with you in public. You weren’t exactly all that liked. People saw you as sketchy and odd, some went as far as to call you a “dirtbag”, but he enjoyed you.

Now, here he stood, watching you light the end, clearing his throat awkwardly,

“So, uh, how was school for you?”