“Do I need to remind you that it’s the dead of summ—“ I held up my hand in the middle of the sentence. “Yeah yeah, why do you wear pants every day it’s almost a hundred degrees blah blah blah.” I slumped into the back of the couch, refusing to look at him. “It’s personal, okay,” I said, fiddling with the hem of my tank top. “I mean, it’s not an issues with summer clothes... What, are you scared that your legs look too girly because you just need to get over the fact that you’ll never be a beefcake.” I’ll admit that caused the mood to lighten a bit. But just a little, and then it went back to being just as annoying. “It’s not that. I said it’s personal,” I mumbled, staring at the TV. He was playing Dark Souls, what else would he be doing at any given time. If there was anyone that could prove the existence of multitasking, it was him. Harassing me and playing video games at the same time, a true exemplar of what the human race can do. “Would you rather talk

Frick ignore the last sentence I’ll redo it “Would you rather talk it out in the basement?” he asked as he flicked a stick on the controller especially hard. I sighed. “I’m kind of desensitized to your murder threats you know,” I said. “Not telling.” “Okay, then I’ll follow you around and ask you to tell me until the day you die. Or until you tell me.” He then began to repeatedly ask me to tell him. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. That was one of two good things I could say about him. The other one was that his cooking was pretty good. “Okay, okay. When I was a rash high schooler I cut myself on my thighs and I hate it and now there are scars and I don’t want anyone else to see,” I said, having said it aloud sounding ten times stupider. He was too intent on the TV to notice my cheeks going red. “Wow, uh that’s pretty hardcore.” That was the first time I’d ever laughed at something he said, but he seemed pretty genuine. That made it funnier. (

“Hardcore? I didn’t know a thing about hardcore. I thought that was the thing to do when you were sad. Now I’ve learned that’s about the stupidest thing I could have done, and I’m paying the price.” I tried to sink even farther into the couch, which was quite hard. “High school is a hard time. I get it. It’s not something to be ashamed of,” he said. “Oh yeah, crackpot therapist guy is back! Great. Just shut up. I told you what you wanted to know, now go on your merry way.” I got up and deliberately walked in front of him to go to my room. “Oh come on! I got hit!” he said after me. Needless to say, in true edgy teenager (now 20-something) fashion, I slammed my door.

I can’t express how much I love you reading them <33

Chill down there it’s pretty crappy