❝i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this…❞

you’d say you keep to yourself. the only people you care about are your very very small group of friends, and your little brother. you care about him more than anything.

you close people out because if you don’t know them well enough, you can’t trust them. they could find out about your… dysfunctional parents. the ones who are never home, the ones who can’t afford a divorce. that’s a weakness.

that’s not to say you’re not totally socially irrelevant. you know people, you just don’t trust them enough to form relationships.

so, currently, it’s a tuesday evening and your parents are out. nothing abnormal. you’ve been stressing over studying and homework for the week, but you made time to make spaghetti for you and your little brother.

you let him go out to the park down the street that you two used to play in all the time, because you trust it to be safe enough for him to go unsupervised.

you’ve been so swamped with your work and the cooking that you don’t realize it’s 25 minutes past the curfew you set for him, and he’s not come back.

and you don’t have time to realize before there’s a knock on the door. you walk over and open it to be greeted with the sight of your little brother — safe and alive, thank god.

and a taller boy next to him, none other than chris sturniolo. you’ve seen him and his brothers around. he’s not popular, but people know him.

“i jus’ found this little dude at the park a couple minutes ago and, uh— figured i’d bring him back to his house.”