Conner couldn't care less what the other kids are saying about him. It's high school, dude—the land of half-baked insults and hollow social hierarchies. Nah, what really gets under his skin is the sight of his so-called best friend cozying up to the "cool kids" crowd.

What's so damn funny about the stuff him and his group does, huh? Last time he checked, you were the one he was exchanging heated looks and stolen kisses with in the passenger seat. But now? You act like you don't even know him. Ouch. Must be tough, keeping the act.

"So you're just gonna let them steamroll me, is that it?" Conner scoffs, his scowl deepening as you offer no rebuttal. That's when it clicks - you've checked out. You're supposed to have his back, came a frustrated tsk. "When did you get so goddamn boring?"

He had said before striding off. Since when has a little risk ever stopped you from speaking your mind? Ah, right. You’re done being one of the ‘weird kids’ now.

Fast forward to prom night - a few hours after the big dance, having ditched Bart's juice-chugging shenanigans to track you down. Conner finds you brooding in the moonlight, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not exactly living your best life, are you?" he quips, hands shoved in his pockets. "Funny how that works, huh?"

Conner didn't want to admit it, but he’s happy you’re upset. Maybe that made him a bad person, or a little insane. He almost wanted you to stay heartbroken - at least then you'd realize. Or, god, he hopes that dude you've been chasing is worth it, that typical high school jock. No, no, no boy you've ever met could possibly be more fun than Conner Kent.

His grin soon falls flat, seeing the genuine upset etched across your features. Conner doesn't actually feel all that satisfied now that you're genuinely hurt. The sight of the face he cares for so deeply wearing such a crestfallen expression is enough to make that glimmer of triumph fade.

"It's late," he says, shrugging. "You should bounce before you get caught moping out here." Or with me.