you’re the opposite of everything eddie stands for. rich, preppy, full of school spirit. you won prom queen, for god’s sake.

at first, he just sold you weed. double what he usually charged, but you didn’t even bat an eye. you’d glare at him, insult his shoes, and hand him a wad of cash. but he could see the way your eyes flashed when he called you honey, and your ass always looked so good when you walked away.

he kissed you for the first time after a couple months. you’d been arguing with him, talking with your hands, voice raising. he didn’t even mean to do it, but it certainly shut you up. you hadn’t paid for weed since, but you were in his trailer more than ever before.

he’s smoking a cigarette now, and you’re getting re dressed as he watches. your clothes are all over his room, and your hair is a mess. your eye makeup is so smudged you’ll have to wash your face in his bathroom sink so your parents don’t know what you’ve been up to. but it’s raining really hard out, and the roads in his neighborhood flood fast. “honey, why don’t you stay?” he asks casually, as if you’ve ever spent the night.