THE DAY COULD NOT HAVE DRAGGED ON ANY SLOWER. Mitch was sitting in the back of the classroom trying his hardest to concatenate on the useless boring lecture.

It was about the great..something? No.. Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth remembering. He gazed around the classroom trying to find anything entertaining but there was nothing, only other absolutely bored out of their mind classmates. He sighed rolling his eyes to the window.

Just as he was getting bored of a paper bag blowing across the parking lot, you walked past. He sat up straight, his eyes following you across the asphalt parking lot.

There you were, hair blowing in the wind with a smile painted on your face and cigarette tight between your ring filled knuckles. He tried to take a picture in his mind of you. To remember the way your bell bottoms clung tightly to your legs and how nice the flowered fitted blouse complimented you.

He thought back to a particular moment on the last day of school a few months ago. It was a little foggy and hard to remember. Well, to his defense he wasn’t very clear minded at the time. He sat on a trucks bed nursing a beer in his hand and looking towards the stars that never seemed to sit still, all spinning in his vison

You walked past and before Mitch could think your sandal caught onto shoe and you went tumbling over onto the ground.

He jumped off the truck looking over you, his mouth gushing a million apologies per second. You lifted yourself off the ground and looked at him and laughed. His heart skipped a beat and mid sentence he trailed off completely blind sided.

You smirked, pushing yourself onto your bottom and wiping the grass of your top. “It’s okay.” 

He nodded awkwardly, unsure of how to act infront of a girl like you. But you didn’t make fun of him or insult him or even send a harsh glare. You just asked very nicely, “Could I have a hand at least?” 

He could feel his mind drifting now, making up scenarios of you and him. Stupid ones, ones that would never happen in his wildest dreams, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hope they would happen. And maybe, just maybe, if he thought hard enough they would. 

He could feel a blush creeping up on his cheeks. Then an annoying finger poking into his back with a “PSSTTT.”

He craned his neck back towards his  long blonde best friend. Carl was leaning over onto his desk then finally stopped his jabs once Mitch paid attention to him.

“Are you looking at Y/N, man?” Carl whispered with a shit eating grin on his face.

Mitch rubbed his nose then clenched his eyes closed trying to block the annoying muffled chuckle of Carls voice and the heat arising in his cheeks even more.

“No way. You must be crazy. She’s outta of your league.” Carl went on, leaning off of his desk and instead balancing on his chair. 

“Shut up.” Mitch’s eyes darted around the classroom to a few peers that have now set their sights onto him. He tried to turn back to the teacher but Carl kept it on. 

“I’m serious, man. Does she even know your name-?” Mitch cut him off 

“Yeah, she does actually.” But instead of his response shutting Carl up like he intended it only made him erupt into a fit of laughter. The chair beneath Carl slid backwards, his back collided with the hard tiled ground and a loud slam echoed through the classroom.

Now everyone’s eyes were truly on the two of them. Including the teacher who crossed his arms and with one stern look Mitch knew he was done for.

<—————————————--------------->

The hallways were quiet other than the back-and-forth arguing between Carl and Mitch. Two bright orange passes to the office were crumbled both in their hands. Carl wouldn’t stop this time and eventually Mitch gave up on trying to shut him up. 

The two of them twisted on their heels at the end of the hallway, Mitch taking the corner with a sharp turn.

BAM!

He collided with something solid and warm, the force bouncing him back into a locker. The metal let out a hallow clang. Just his luck.  Mitch blinked twice, eyes widening at the person into of him. His heart shook with shock.

This must’ve a been a blessing, the big man in the clouds must of heard his troubles and actually answered his prayers.

You stood infront of him pushing your hair back then locking eyes with his brown orbs. The edges of your lips pulled into a slow, knowing smile as you realize the person infront of you.

“Mitch!” You said, voice low enough to make him lean in just a little to catch the words slipping from your mouth. You remembered his name..?

“You really need to watch where you’re going,” You raised your eyebrow as Mitch rubbed his nose.

“Yeah, uh, lesson learned sorry.” Mitch mutters, his gaze flickering over towards Carl. The blondie obviously looks to be caught off guard, frozen between the two of them with his mouth slightly open. 

You giggled, the softness of your voice sending shivers down his spine. For a split second, Mitch motioned towards you at Carl with his eyes. He blinked looking between the two of you before finally coming to his senses.

Carl cleared his throat, quickly stepping back. “Uh, I’ll see you at the office.” Then he turned around fast walking down the highway.

“The office? What’d you get yourself into?” You placed a hand on your hip with an amusing smile.

There’s no way Mitch was going to tell you it was all your fault he was sent down. If you hadn’t been walking in that parking lot then he wouldn’t have had been staring and if he hadn’t of been staring then Carl wouldn’t have made a scene. He tried to think of something fast, something impressive that would make him seem interesting.

“I- uh accidentally got caught uh- skipping!” He blurted out nodding his head. “Skipping, yeah.” 

You titled your head, “Hm. Did you use the gym’s door to leave?” You asked and Mitch confidently answered with a “Yes.”

“That’s your fault then, the coach can be a prick. You gotta use the side door on the end of the building.” 

Mitch’s face fell in embarrassment. Idiot, he thought to himself. He face palmed. 

You snickered placing a hand on his shoulder. Mitch froze, the blood rushing to his face as he stared into your eyes. You’d put him a trance. 

“It happens to the best of us. Actually, I’ve been caught there a handful of times my freshman year… don’t tell anyone though.” You drifted off, breaking eye contact the boy.

“I won’t- noted though. About the side door!” He breathily chuckled, tucking his brown lock behind his ear.

“Anyway, when you’re done getting suspended you should think about coming to my party tonight?” You pull your purse off of your shoulder and begin to dig into it.

Mitch thinks back to what Dawson told him “Gotta play it cool, you know? Can’t let her know how much you like her. ‘Cause if she knows she’ll dump you like that!”

He starts to stammer, blurting out a million words per second trying to shift between being cool and nonchalant. You nudge him lightly, holding out a little paper with writing on it. 

“Well, if your plans fall through show up.” Then, like on cue, the bell rings and the hallway floods with other students and before he can bid a thoughtful goodbye. 

<——————————————-------------->

  A handful of cars were already taking up the block, parked at every corner of every inch lining the dimly lit street. Mitch anxiously strolled closer and closer towards your house. He tried to swallow the anxiety bubbling inside of him. 

He stood infront of your door and knocked a couple times before stepping back and rocking on his heels. The door opened wide, the smell of pot and cigerettes hit Mitch in the face. He looked up meeting the eyes of Pink. 

He stood framed in the doorway in his signature night-out look, dressed in his loose collared long sleeve and a pair of wide legged jeans. 

“Hey, man.” Pink nodded his head up before stepping away and letting Mitch enter the house.

“Whatcha doin’ here tonight?” Pink questioned watching as Mitch pushed his hair back.

“Oh nothing, much. You know how it is.” He tried to play it off, his eyes circling around the place trying to find Y/N. Pink must’ve notices his wandering gaze because he props the question. 

“Who you lookin’ for, man?” Mitch swallowed, feeling a knot tighten in his throat. Pink started to walk between the crowd of people. Pushing through gently, eyes set on the table full of drinks. Mitch followed close behind, a few hellos interrupting his answer. 

 Pink grins grabbing two beers from the table handing one to Mitch. Mitch takes it as Pink opens his with an opener. He hands it to Mitch who embarrassingly struggles for a second before twisting it off successfully. 

“Oh, i’m uh- just scouting the place, looking for anyone- someone-“  He’s cut off adruptly. 

“Pink. Mitch.” A feminine voice cooed from behind Mitch. It startled him, he moved in slow motion setting his sights onto you. 

There you stood, your hair with feathered waves in a tight blouse which stopped just under your ribs leaving your mid drift shown and even tighter jeans. In your hand, a beer can hung next to your waist but just as Mitch took notice of it you brought it up your lips and took a swig.

You licked your lips, Mitch’s heart dropped straight to his pants. He clenched the beer in his hand. 

Pink grinned pushing his tongue into his cheek. You knew what you were doing and it was driving Pink crazy.

He was about to say something but it was quickly forgotten when he realized he wasn’t the only one watching. He bit the inside of his lip. That just wasn’t going to fly with him. Not when it involved you.

Before Mitch could get a word in, Pink thought of something swiftly to lure you away from the audience you were playing at. 

“Y/N, couldya step over here quick?” He said, stepping forward sending a glare towards Mitch before turning towards you with a sly smirk.

“If you really want me to.” You shrugged with a slight smile. Innocently batting your eyelashes placing your beer on the table next to you. 

“Oh I really want you.” He paused with a subtle wink. Your cheeks turned pink. “-to.” 

He pushed his hand up to your shoulder, letting the tip of his pinkie brush against your bare neck. Then he glided his hand down looping it within your belt pulling you with him. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure Mitch saw every move he was making. 

He lead you to some empty corner of your living room. He softly pushed you against the wall, his arm placed above your head and you melted into his touch. 

The thrum of music from the record player vibrated the walls faintly. You tried to act cool, focus on the words and not the elephant in the room. But you couldn’t, he leaned in close. His lips just hovering over yours but not close enough for your likening. Oh how the tables have turned now. 

He smelt of cigerettes, a touch of weed from a joint he bummed off, and  cologne. His eyes were half open trying to search for a reaction in yours. As much as you tried to act like this didn’t bother you, he could see that glimmer circling around your irises. 

“What do you think you’re doin’?” You press your head to the wall looking up at him. Pressing your lips together you blinked. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He hoarsely chuckled, finding that response amusing. Was this a game to you? His gaze flickering, running down your neck but retreating back to your eye contact to speak. 

“Careful there, Y/N. You’re walking in the wrong direction.” He dragged out the last word tugging a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His hands trailed down towards your cheek, gliding his thumb over the soft plush of your skin. 

“You have quite the imagination, Pink.” You titled your head to the side as he leaned in again, this time closer almost touching.

“I’m not imagining anything.” He pushed his knuckle underneath your chin slowly, dauntingly slow, his lips grazed over yours. 

You could feel every inch of the deliberate pace he kept. Your pulse hammered loudly in your ear like a drum. He stretched every second out. Every moment was purposeful, tortuous in his patience. The heat of his breath was enough to make your skin prickle.

His lips touched yours, his hand coming up back to your cheek pushing you close. The warmth of his mouth was fleeting and taunting. Your tongue swiped across his lips, head bobbing with each movement he made.

Your hand leapt up into his hair, fingers twirling his brown curls and in response his other hand came down around your back pushing you into him closer. 

You gasped, he hungrily kissed you harder smushing his face into yours. You pressed your hand flat on his chest pulling away slowly, biting his lip as you went. He tried to push his lips back onto yours but was met with a finger.

“We’re in public.” You coo at him looking around the living room. No one’s really paying attention but still, your point still stood. He gently squished his hand onto your cheeks forcing you to look back to him. 

“So what? I’m not allowed to show off?” He breathily inquired pulling your waist closer. You rolled your eyes. 

“Show off what, hm?” He silences you with a briskly kiss. You hum against his lips and he pulls away once more.

“You, N/N.” 

<——————————————->

 Mitch felt stupid, really stupid now that he watched the interaction between you and Pink. He should’ve knew a girl like you would be with a guy like Pink. You were just being nice and Mitch got carried away. It was all really in his imagination 

A pungent scent of pot hit Mitch in the face, a hand reached out pushing a half burnt joint in his direction.

“Want a hit, man?” Mitch nodded a little sorrowfully taking the joint in his fingers and pressing it to his lips. He looked back towards you.

Slater followed too, his red drowsy eyes gradually putting the pieces together. 

“Oh, Y/N, she’s a cool girl a cool cool  girl… She rolled this for me.” He motions towards the joint in Mitch’s hand. He couldn’t escape you, could he? 

Mitch audibly groans shoving the joint back to Slater who seems a bit confused. 

“Are they…” Mitch paused for a second, dreading the answer. “-together?”

Slater took a long drag, exhaling the white smoke from his nostrils watching it curl up in lazy spirals.

“Well, yeah man. That’s Pinks girl, don’tcha know?” Mitch’s stomach drops, it was too good to be true. The music from inside spills out into the night, but Mitch barely hears- only the dull, thud of realization. 

“That’s never gets old” he says as you jump inside. He’s shaking his head in amusement and you just roll your eyes at him as he starts up the engine and drives away before anyone can spot you.

“It’s getting pretty old for me, I’m lucky I haven’t been caught yet” you tell him as you pull some lip gloss from your bag and drop it to the ground. Pink’s eyes glance over at you as you pull the mirror down and apply the product. He tries to ignore the way his throat dries as he watches your plump lips pucker at your reflection.

“You won’t get caught, our system works pretty well” he tells you, hands flexing over the steering wheel as he drives to the Emporium since Pickford just had to get caught and cancel his party.

“C’mon Rand, I’m so over sneaking out. I wish we didn’t get too big for sleepovers” you pout, arms crossing over your chest, and lifting your breasts in the process. The series of actions and words has Pink shifting in his seat, trying to hide the way his pants have tightened. If only you realized what you had just suggested.

“Sorry sweetheart, but if you still aren’t gonna admit to your parents that you party then you’re stuck with our plan” he tells you and you finally eye him up and down, the nice purple shirt on his form and the tight cream bell bottoms.

“Who you all dolled up for? Simone?” you ask as you wiggle your eyebrows, your teasing and suggestive tone making him roll his eyes at you. You ignore the jealousy that burns in your stomach, the desire to be the one he actually dresses up for. Little did you know, it was you.

“No not Simone, we’re just talking” he says and it sounds unsure, like that might even be the wrong choice of words for the little blonde girl he had somehow obtained. In fact he had quite forgotten about her until now, not even remembering he said they’d meet up at some point tonight.

“Either way you look handsome Pinky, I’d swoon” you tease him, digging in your bag for the joint you had stashed away earlier. Your words are true but he doesn’t know that.

“Please don’t call me Pinky. I prefer Rand or Randall even over that” he begs, you being the only one to still call him by his given name. Comes with the territory of being best friends though. You knew him long before he was ever Pink.

“Oh little Pinky is grumpy” you tease in a sing song baby voice, poking his shoulder and scooting closer along the front seat. He chuckles, knowing you’re only messing.

“You gonna light that joint or what?” he finally asks and you giggle, hands retrieving your lighter before flicking the ignite. Pink watches as you wrap your glossed lips around the end and light it in the dark of the car. The flame illuminates your face bright enough to remind him how gorgeous you truly are.

“Whoo, that’s a strong one” you say, voice thick with the smoke and Pink smiles as you pass it to him and he puts his lips where yours just were. He’s certain this is the closest he’ll ever get to kissing you.

You pass the joint back and forth the whole ride to the Emporium, each pass getting you closer and closer to him on the seat. By the time there’s only a roach to share between you, your thigh is pressed tightly against his own. His whole body buzzes with the sensation of you against him and the weed. He’s actually disappointed to see the Emporium come into view while he pulls into a parking spot.

“You want a beer?” you ask, head turning to face him and the closeness doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. Pink takes a moment to study the deep color of your eyes before nodding.

“Sure, let me give you some cash” he says, digging in his pocket and you finally spot the remnants of your sparkly lip gloss stuck to the corner of his lip from your shared joint. As he frees some bills you giggle and use your thumb to brush it away, causing him to freeze.

“I guess I should’ve waited to apply my lipgloss after we shared a joint, wouldn’t want our friends thinking we were hiding something” you say, chest tightening and wishing he would admit his feelings for you. Tell you he didn’t care what his friends thought and kiss you for real. You wished you never dared to cross the best friend line.

“Maybe I just decided to start wearing makeup” Pink finally says when he realizes it’s taken him too long to answer. Why could he be confident around every girl but you?

“I’ll go grab some drinks, don’t start a game of pool without me” you tell him and in a flash you’ve slid out the car, waving and smiling at your friends who cheer and greet you. Pink waits till you’re inside the liquor store before taking a few moments to collect himself.

“Hey man” Wooderson is the first to greet him as he steps out the car. Pink smiles, greeting him with a handshake before leaning up against the wall beside him.

“Man that girl of yours has gotten real cute” he grins, eyes still cast in the direction of the liquor store where you had just disappeared into.

“Not my girl” Pink mutters despite everything in him going against it and the older guy snorts, foot wedging up to press against the wall behind him.

“Still cute” he says and Pink chuckles, hoping it’ll mask the jealousy he carries over other men being into you. He knew Wooderson would leave you alone, he wouldn’t dare mess with a girl he knew Pink cared for so much. It still didn’t change the fact it made his chest burn.

As if on cue you exit the liquor store, smile wide on your face, as you carry two cases of his favorite beer. Pink’s stomach flutters at the sight, watching as you cross the parking lot and dump both cases in the truck bed of his car. You’re so gorgeous, and you knew him better than anyone, a girl hand crafted for him. If only he wasn’t so afraid of losing you.

“Thirsty?” you ask, hands freeing two of the beers and holding them up for him to see.

“You got one for me doll?” Wooderson calls out and you laugh, shaking your head at your overly flirty friend.

“Depends on how much Pink likes you?” you call back and Wooderson pouts at Pink almost instantly. Your bestfriend just sighs and gives you a nod which makes you grab a third beer before approaching them both.

“Thanks” Pink says, arm coming to wrap around your shoulders and pull you against him. You don’t fight it, leaning into his embrace as you open your beer and take a swig.

“Can’t believe we’re officially seniors” you say as another load of classmates pull into the parking lot and hop out. Pink smiles, knowing all day he felt like a King about everything but one. You.

“Enjoy it” is all Wooderson says and you both nod, accepting these words and knowing there was only one shot to embrace this moment as it was. That’s why in your head, you’re certain you’ll tell Pink how you feel before the end of summer, hell maybe even tonight.

As always the chaos of the night ensues and without fail you manage to still find a way to party. You’re unsure how much alcohol you’ve consumed, you just know it was a lot. At least enough to give you the small buzz you were currently sporting. It was the very reason Pink had laid down a blanket in the bed of his truck and had laid you in it with the promise of returning. He holds up his end of the bargain when the suspension of the Camino dips down with him lifting his body weight into it.

“Sorry, had to say goodbye to Simone” and maybe it’s the alcohol, you want to blame the alcohol, when your face scrunches up with something he can only read as disgust.

“If you wanted to take her home you should’ve just left me with Cynthia, I can handle myself” you say, voice clipped and eyes cast on the bright stars of the Texas sky above you.

“I’m not leaving you, besides I didn’t want to take her home” Pink assures you, heart racing at the idea of you being jealous. If it wasn’t for the alcohol in your system he’d swear it was.

“Yeah okay” you snort, shaking your head and trying to ignore the cool night air on your skin. The sounds of engines starting and rumbling away surrounding you both.

“What’s your deal? I thought you liked Simone?” Pink finally asked, rolling to his side to face you and you smile despite not being amused.

“I do like Simone I just don’t like her for you” you say, a bit exasperated and a little tired of keeping all these feelings at bay when they’re begging to burst out of you.

“Why? Why not? She’s a good girl, just like the rest” he argues back and the fire ignites inside you, annoyance and anger bubbling over.

“Because Rand, because no one is good enough for you. No one would ever deserve to love you, not even me-” your mouth snaps shut, words moving faster than your mind and it reels as you try to comprehend what you just said to him. What you may of just admitted.

“What?” Pink says, blinking as the words you just said sinks in. You instantly start shaking your head, panic spreading over your entire body, realizing your plan came true without being planned.

“I didn’t mean, I- I’m sorry-” you blubber, words suddenly not coming to you or forming, much different than how they had just spit out of you. Yet it doesn’t matter because Pink’s hand is falling on your cheek, holding your head to face him. His expression is unreadable and the panic makes you want to flee.

“You deserve me, just as much as I deserve you” he says slowly, wanting you to understand what he’s saying. Your eyes are wide and when you can’t get your mouth to open and say anything, he’s leaning forwarding and pressing it against his own.

You gasp lightly but he keeps you close until you realize this is really happening. Slowly you kiss him back, realizing in this very moment you’re actually kissing your best friend. The excitement hits you all at once and you grasp at his shoulders tightly, kissing him feverishly. When Pink notices your eagerness he glides his tongue along the seam of your lips and you let him in without hesitation. The second his tongue curls against your own you find yourself climbing into his lap, searching for a better and more controlled angle to make out with him.

“Careful baby” he warns against your lips as you grind down on him. Yet the confidence from the alcohol and the desire for him is controlling your actions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you muse as his lips travel along your jaw and down your neck. He smiles against your skin, grunting when you grind down on him again.

When his lips find that sensitive spot on your neck you trail your hand down his chest, fingers grazing his bare skin in his shirt that had been further and further unbuttoned throughout the entirety of the night. When you reach his abdomen his stomach jumps and finally he pulls away from you.

“Wait, is it true? You really have feelings for me?” he asks, wanting to make sure he hadn’t misinterpreted or worse taken advantage of you in your tipsy state. You smile as you admire the sparkly lip gloss that now covers his own lips shamelessly.

“Yes Pinky, for a long time. I just never had the courage to say anything” you tell him, hands stabilizing yourself on his chest. He grins wide, hands tightening on your hips and the action makes you grind against him again.

“Me too” he admits, a soft blush covering his cheeks and you don’t fight the urge to lean down and kiss each of them. Yet the new angle has you able to feel his length perfectly in those tight pants of his. You use the opportunity to kiss his lips as you grind against him again. His hands tighten somehow even more on your hips and you love the idea of being able to see where his hands had been tomorrow.

“I didn’t know you liked me this much Pinky” you say using the embarrassing nickname he hadn’t felt the need to correct with you above him like this.

“You have no idea” he mutters a little breathless and a little nervous. This is all he ever wanted and now he didn’t possibly want to screw it up.

“How have I never noticed?” you muttered, not looking particularly for an answer, before kissing him deeply again. You shiver when his hands push up your shirt, large palms gliding against your bare back. When he reaches the clasp of your bra you grind against him, indicating he had full permission to take it off. He doesn’t waste a second, the material loosening and slipping down your shoulders.

Realizing you don’t want to get caught without your shirt you slip the straps off your arms and pull it out of under your clothes. Pink watches as you toss it up by his head and he gulps, his hands moving from your back and under the fabric that laid over your chest. Your lips meet his own again when he finally grasps your breasts and you realize fairly quickly you need to get him out of his pants as soon as possible.

Pink lets out a small squeak, your mouth muffling the noise, as your hands reach down and start fumbling with the button of his pants. He grips tighter at your breasts and it makes you whimper against him. You’re both so lost in each other you can’t believe it’s taken you this long to ever admit your feelings for him. As soon as you slide his zipper down you feel his length twitch against your palm and you grin against his lips. Slowly you slide your fingers against him, dipping into the pants you hoped to get off of him.

“Hey we’re going to the 50 yard line to smoke, you guys in?!” Don’s voice bellows out, hands slapping against the bed of the truck. You jump off of Pink quickly, hand sliding out of his pants, as Don rounds the back of the vehicle. A sly grin cracks along his face as he notices the heavy breaths Pink lets out and the open fly of his pants. When he spots you with glazed eyes and swollen lips it only confirms his suspicions.

“Yeah we’ll come” Pink answers, eyes glancing at you and back at his buddy. Don chuckles, a finger pointing between you both.

“Best friends my ass” is all he says before he starts walking back the way he came, probably in search of Shavonne.

“We’ll meet you there” Pink calls out and Don waves a hand, amusement covered his features as he stalks away from you both.

“You think he knows?” you ask in a joking tone and Pink laughs as he falls back against the bed of the truck, eyes cast to the sky.

“Yeah, he knows” Pink confirms before turning his head and looking you in the eye. All he can think about is how beautiful you are, eyes full of adoration knowing he finally has you the way he has always wanted you.

“Guess we better go to the 50 yard line” you say softly, hand coming to brush some of the long hair out of his face and Pink smiles as he turns his head and kisses your palm.

“I guess so, sleepover at mine after?” he asks, a smile he struggles to hold back tugging on his face. You laugh as you remember the conversation from earlier and slowly nod.

“Yeah, I like that plan” you agree and he grins widely before capturing your lips in a kiss then hopping out the back of the truck. He holds a hand out for you to join him and you don’t hesitate in taking it as you both slide into the car.

Heaving yourself over the chain link fence, Slater is quick to clumsily follow behind. Giggling, you drop down drunkenly, scrambling to your feet to help Slater carefully tumble over the other side. 

“I got it. I got it,” he smiles, using your shoulders as support as he tries to stand on the flimsy wraps of metal without anything to hold onto. “Alright, go away.”

Stepping back as he had asked, it takes all about ten seconds before he’s colliding with the ground with a hard thud. You try your best to stay quiet, but the groans that follow soon after cause you to explode. As best as you can manage, you wheeze while taking his hand and lifting him up, “Don’t got it.”

“Hey, I was up there for a long time! Try beating that!”

“Nah, I’d rather keep my head in tact,” you slur, handing him the indiscreet bottle wrapped inside a paper bag.

He happily obliges, eyes quickly being entertained with holding the bottle without spilling, your eyes scanning the field to find the rest of the gang. Just along the other side of the football field, the familiar cackling of young teens tells you that you guys showed up too late.

“Hey, there they are!” you can hear Don shouting, voice echoing throughout the stands and bleachers.

Shoving Slater, you guys fall into a not-so-sturdy race, feet flying about and hands scattered in all directions to prevent falling on your faces again. The group, staring at your liquid-enhanced happiness, laugh as they decide to move towards the center of the field.

Sucking in greedy breaths of air, you both go tumbling into the grass before the group. Slater rolls into Pink and Simone while you crash into Don’s awaiting arms. 

“Perfect landing,” he grins into your ear, making sure to leave a teasing nibble on the lobe, eyes digging straight into the particularly long haired brunette across from him.

“Shut up,” you groan, lifting off of him to sit cross-legged besides Slater once more.

For some time, you indulge in the adventures of David Wooderson; the many women he’s been with, the crazy shit he got himself into and how he got out of it, the places he’s been. Although they were bizarre, they kept the group entertained through their buzzed hazes, laughing and giggling at every punch line.

Laying across Slater’s thighs, you support your head with both of your crossed arms. Beside you, Slater takes turns in passing the joint between you both, one arm supporting his own head as he stares up at the stars. 

The group had fallen in a comfortable silence, indulging in the short-lived peace that is soon to be destroyed as the morning light comes up. Slowly, with the peaking sun just above the treeline, Shavonne and Simone make their exit through the front gate of the school’s football stadium.

You sadly let them go, knowing that senior year is just about over for you, hugging them as they depart. Wooderson is next to leave, still tipsy over last night’s drinks, he comfortably grabs the bottle of tequila he was nursing, leaving before the cops have a chance to get him.

Watching the clouds turn a deep shade of orange like gold, you, Slater, and Pink all sit up side by side to watch the end of the show. 

“Hey man...woman....this isn’t the end of us, is it?” Slater slurs, turning briefly to look the each of you in the eye.

“Hell no!” you yell, looking at him as if he’s crazy, “You’re my best friend, Slater, my partner in crime. I’m not done with you yet.”

He smiles at the drastic bit of reassurance, sharing a look of fond companionship. Swiftly, the both of you nudge shoulders and turn towards Pink, expectant eyes waiting for his answer that didn’t come as naturally as it should’ve.

He looks Slater in the eyes, then they slip to yours in a sense of regret and premature sadness. Sighing, he blows, “I don’t known, man. We hung out with each other because we were stuck with each other. Now we have no reason to be around - hang out like we used to. We aren’t kids anymore, we’re adults about to enter the big, wide world we’ve been dying for. Who knows what the next year or two will take us.”

“That’s why we make sure it doesn’t happen,” you counter, staring off at the sky again.

“And how can you ensure that, Y/N?” Pink asks with a defensiveness you aren’t quite used to hearing.

“Because,” you snap your head towards him sharply, “If we want to be in each other’s lives, we’ll make damn sure that we stick around.” Your eyes, stern and soft at the same time, bore into his own with and intensity and determination set.

Neither Pink nor Slater argue you, Pink still staring at you with disbelief and no change in his thoughts. He doesn’t believe you, not completely. 

“Pink,” you try to compose yourself, setting your voice to a lighter tone to avoid further argument. “If you’re friends and truly scared of losing them, the love and bond you share should say enough. You don’t just fucking disappear on your own, you’ll let that shit happen and you’ll know you’re doing it, too. We’ve lost a lot of good friends, but they weren’t built to last. Our friendship, well, it’ll last a lifetime.”

Slater pulls you in by your shoulder, side hugging you with a warm, kooked-out smile, “Yeah man. Even our kids will be friends.”

You laugh at that, looking back at Pink, his head down and hands playing with the grass. “I don’t know,” his voice cracks a bit.

Looking back at Slater, he nods, whispering in your ear, “Tell him Y/N, you’ve got nothing to lose. He needs you.” You smile at his unnatural encouragement, he’s always good at finding the right words, as rare as they come. Getting up from the grass and waving his goodbye, he winks at you, going back through the woods in which you came silently.

“Pink,” you mumble, shuffling closer to him and placing a hand underneath his head, pulling him up to look at you by his chin. When he looks up, his eyes are glossy and threatening to break down at any moment, softening as you look at him. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, you hear me?”

“I just don’t want to lose us,” he chokes, a tear sneaking past him before he could wipe it away.

“We won’t. We- I-,” you stutter to find the words. You know what you want to tell him, but you don’t know how to - too scared of the possibility of rejection. “I love you, Pink, always have, always will. I’ve stuck around this long without an inch of expectation from you, what makes you think it’ll change now? You’re gonna go places, Pink, but don’t think I won’t be too far behind you, making sure you get just where you need to be.”

For once, he smiles at you, a glossy wet smile that cracks through the shadows of doubt swirling in his head. “You’re talking about the pledge, aren’t you.”

“Oh, you’re signing that pledge, don’t get me wrong, but no, I’m talking about anywhere and wherever you go. You don’t have to be this huge NFL football player for me to love you just the same, you’re always gonna be Pink from Lee High School in good, old Austin, Texas, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he smirks, looking down at the grass again.

“Hey,” you pull his head up again, “I’m serious, Pink.”

“I know,” he mumbles, “Just scared for our futures, you know? I don’t know where I’m going yet.”

“And you’re not gonna know for a long time, you’re still in high school. You’ll figure life out just like the rest of us, you just have to get through the last year of high school. Shit, I mean, I don’t even know what the fuck to do with myself yet and I just graduated.”

He laughs at that, smiling wide for you to see as he gives you a once over, “You’re gonna do just fine, Y/N. You always get your shit together. You have nothing to worried about.”

“Neither do you,” your smirk, poking his arm.

You guys fall into a comfortable silence for a moment or two, riddled with your own thoughts before Pink speaks up again, “So, you love me, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” your face heats up, this time being the one to look at the grass for answers. “I knew you’d pick that up.”

“How could I not, it was such a beautiful speech, really made me tear up.”

You laugh at him, shoving his shoulder as you get back up on your feet. Outstretching your hand, Pink takes it, frame towering over yours with his natural height and intensity. 

Slowly, you guys make your way to the front gate of the football field. There, you find Slater, stomping out his half-smoked joint just as Coach Bronco emerges from the parking lot, holding a finger up to his lips with a smile.

“Ah, Randy,” Bronco chirps, acting as if he hadn’t been waiting for a while, “You sign that pledge yet?”

“Actually,” you step before him, “He was just going to sign it now, do you have a pen?” You smile nice a sweet, Bronco pulling out a pen and handing it to you. “Oh, and we kind of lost the paper,” you smirk innocently, “You know, with the parties and stuff tonight, it got lost.”

“Oh sure, I’ve got a copy,” he runs back to his car to fetch another paper.

Pink elbows you in the side and you turn to smile devilishly at him, “You’ve got a gift, I’m not going to stand by and watch you spoil it, Pink.”

“Here you are,” Coach Bronco smiles.

“Thank you,” you take it from him, handing it over to Pink and turning around, offering your back for him to use to sign it. Begrudgingly he does as you’d silently instructed, signing the paper and handing it back.

“Thanks Randy, we look forward to seeing you next year. Don’t get soft on us,” then Bronco leans in, whispering something you can’t quite make out, turning to sneak a peak at Slater, hiding in the bushes. “And don’t let that one go, that one knows what they’re talking about. A good influence...special.”

“Alright! Thanks Coach, I’ll see you next year,” Pink exclaims, motioning towards his want for Bronco to leave.

“Thanks Coach B, he’ll be back better than ever. You just wait!”

“I hope so,” and with that, Bronco leaves seemingly happy with the outcome.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not smoking this summer,” Pink mutters.

“All you had to do was sign it, now you’re free,” you smile. “Come on, lets go home, we need to sleep at some point.”

Waving at Slater, he comes bounding out of the bushes again, a tipsy smile on his face. “Does that mean I have to find a new smoking buddy?”

“Nah, I’m not done yet,” Pink smirks.

“Hey, I thought I was your smoking buddy?” you punch Slater’s arm.

“Ow!” he exclaims dramatically. “You are my smoking best friend,” he corrects.

“So, I’m more special then?”

“Sure,” he smirks.

Walking down the parking lot, you part ways, hugging Pink before you turn back to Slater, wrapping your arm around his waist due to his height. Pink goes the other direction with a giggle, watching as Slater puts all of his weight onto you, wobbling down the road.

Before he turns the corner, Pink calls out, “Oh, and Y/N?!”

Turning around, you look back at him, “Yeah?”

“I love you, too!”

Confusion laces your features as quickly as his blow, looking up at Slater to make sure you heard it right. Slater looks down at you, eyebrows raised with a shrug. Turning back to Pink, a huge smile breaks across your face.

Down the road, Pink smiles back with a red hue to his cheeks, “Did you hear me?”

Suddenly, you let go of Slater and bound towards Pink, almost tackling him as you jump on him. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he chuckles loud, smirking down at you as he places a kiss to your nose.

“Are you serious?” you ask, looking up at him with bewilderment.

“Well, you didn’t really give me a chance to say it back, did you?”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“Do I need to say it again?”

“For clarification purposes, please?”

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. I have since we were Freshmen.”