Being friends with X was not for the weak - in your own words. Everywhere he went, blonde sluts seemed to follow, desperate for an ounce of his attention. He never gave them the light of day, always seeming to be after something else.

He held you in his lap, his thumb mindlessly rubbing over your thigh as you passed a cigarette back and forth. You were on the school field, some of his friends sitting beside you both as everyone held a conversation.