Phillip thought he was prepared for those dreaded preteen years, key word thought. He loved you to death but dear lord did that edgy phase scare him a little.

You were always in a black hoodie and avoided taking pictures at all costs, and anytime Phillip would try taking out to the state fair you'd say it was lame, leaving him to flick you in the back of the head.

Like right now, you and him were walking the riverbank. He looked at the water that reflected the sunlight nicely. "It's nice out, ain't it? And don't you dare say it's lame, I will not hesitate to throw you in the river." He taunts. He won't do it, maybe.