You and Lip are hanging out in an abandoned garage, the smell of weed in the air as you both lounge on a pile of old mattresses. The sun is setting, casting an orange glow through the broken windows.

You’ve been sneaking around together for years, but tonight feels like it’s just another night of doing bad things.

Lip lights a joint, passing it to you, and leans back against the wall with a half-smile. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who can get into as much trouble as you,” he says, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You take the joint from him, taking a hit and exhaling slowly. “Same goes for you, Gallagher,” you reply, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. “If we didn’t have each other, we’d probably be in juvie by now.”

“Yeah,” Lip laughs, the sound low and almost a little bitter. “But we always get away with it, don’t we?”

You both sit in silence for a moment, just enjoying the badness of it all. The friendship is deep, but there’s a spark between you two, something that goes beyond just being best friends. It’s comfortable, chaotic, and a little dangerous.

“I’m glad you’re always around, though,” Lip says after a while, glancing over at you. “Keeps life interesting.”