I walk along the hallway, my shoulder almost hitting the wall. Simon walks next to me, bouncing joyously as he recites how he celebrated Valentine's with his girlfriend. His blonde curls fall into his face, but he doesn't move them. He stops talking and frowns at me, "Are you even listening?" I don't reply and lean against the wall, "Hello?"

"I don't care about your stupid girlfriend," I sigh and cross my arms. He's squinting at me.

"Well, I do," He raises his eyebrows.

"So. You say the same things every time. She's so hot. She has beautiful eyes. Her hair is so soft," I mock him. He runs his hands through his curls and his nostrils flare.

"What? It's true. I'm in love," He says.

"No, you aren't. You think you are, but you're just quoting romance novels," I close my eyes as I say this, so I don't have to look him in the eye.

"You're an asshole," He mutters but continues, "Are you coming to Adriana's tonight?"

"Maybe," He knows I'm right. His girlfriend is a joke. They barely touch, or even speak. I don't why he does it.

"Yeah. I'll see you there, okay?" I open my eyes and he leans in. He hugs me, burying his face in my neck, "Why are you so mean?" He whispers, pulls away and runs off before I can push him.

"A drink?" Some dipshit junkie holds a beer out for me. His eyes are red and dilated.

"No," I shove past him and go towards the dance floor. Simon is there, smiling at some girl with a long blonde hair. Maybe I should turn back. Why am I even here?

"Oh hey," He says when he sees me. The girl drifts away. Simon grabs my hips and dances with me, I don't dance back, "What's wrong?" He leans in and lays his head on my chest. My heart beats a little faster and I feel like a hopeless wreck. We've known each other for years, but we aren't really friends. He just talks to me. And sometimes I listen while pretending not to. And sometimes I look at him for too long. And sometimes I think about kissing him. Like right now, I'm thinking about kissing him.

SIMON

I saw him when he entered the room, but I pretended I didn't. I smiled at the girl dancing with me as I watched him in the corner of my eye. My head is on his chest now and my brain is cloudy from alcohol. He's so mean to me, but he's the only one who'll listen even if it's only half the time. He doesn't answer my question. I didn't think he would because he doesn't really like to talk about himself. I don't think I know anything about him. He's mysterious, that's why I befriended him. I'd thought he'd balance me out. His hands grab me by the shoulders and push me off. I pout, but he just shakes his head and mutters incoherently. My vision is blurry. My head is spinning too. He grabs my arm and pulls me out of the crowd of drunk couples grinding.

BAZ

I guide him to the porch and we sit on a bench. He talks in slurred, short sentences. I've never seen him drunk before, he's usually a mess, but not this much of a tragedy. He tells me he doesn't know why we are friends. I remind him that we aren't. That he just won't leave me alone.

"Baz, why can't be friends? We were when we were small," He slurs and leans against my shoulders. I shrug him off, forcefully.

"We are never friends. I don't have friends," I say.

"Why not? Tell me," He looks at me in the eye, trying to be intense. He fails.

"No."

"So there's a reason?"

"Shut up," I say and he does. For a second.

"I know that your mother died when you were young. And that your father works a lot. Your aunt told me. She also-" He giggles, "-told me you liked Justin Bieber when you were 12," He laughs.

"Fucking Fiona," I sigh. My aunt from mother's side is a nuisance, but my favorite relative. She likes to talk to anyone I talk to. She says she's making sure I'm staying out of trouble, but I think she's always doing it for my father. He wants to ensure that I'm not sleeping around, getting drunk, and disgracing the family name.

"I know you don't hate me. You're just…" He trails off. "Emotionally closed."

"I do hate you. Go away," I say with no venom. He stands and grabs my hand. He starts walking to my car and gets in the driver's seat. I get into the passenger.

"Do you think I can drive?" He giggles.

"I guess I have a death wish," Or the keys in my pocket, but I don't mention that. I cross my arms and glare at him.

"We've been friends for years," He whispers, staring at me through his eyelashes. His eyelashes are unbearably long, they make every blink flirty, "But you still don't like me. My girlfriend ask why I even bother with you. That you're a asshole."

"I agree with your girlfriend," He shakes his head.

"I think you secretly like me," More than you think, "That you like when I talk to you," Of course I do. He leans closer and touches my cheek gently, "I don't think you're as tough as you pretend to be."

I swat him off, "Whatever floats your boat."

"Brad said you're gay," I blink and then sneer.

"Brad knows nothing," Which is mostly true. He is a fucking idiot, but he does know that. We kissed a couple times at parties, but he would always tell me that I was going to hell afterwards.

"Brad said you kissed him once, but I didn't believe him. You would never kiss anyone first," He leans over again and I stare behind him, trying not to think. His hand has moved to my thigh and he's staring at me. He's so close, I could kiss him. I don't, that would be stupid.

SIMON

I don't know what I'm doing. My hand is on his thigh and words keep tumbling out. I can tell he's trying not to look at me.

BAZ

He won't stop looking at me. I think about pushing him off, but I can't.

SIMON

He looks at me for split second. He's going to push me off.

BAZ

I can't take it, I look at him. I think I'm going to push him.

SIMON

He pushes me. But I don't budge. I move over to his seat and straddle him, "Stop pushing me away."

BAZ

My insides are burning and my heart is in my throat. His thighs are pressed against mine. His nose is almost brushing my cheek. He takes my face in one hand and pushes my face to look at him. He looks flustered and his mouth is hanging open. I could kiss him, but I won't. His eyes flicker to my lips and he kisses me.

SIMON

I'm so confused, my brain is moving too fast and I'm kissing him. And I think he's kissing back. His hands are in my hair and I'm still holding his face. He's still pushing me, but this time I push back. I don't want to stop, but I have to.

BAZ

He's pulls away suddenly, scrambles out of the car, and hurls in the street. I scoot over into the driver's seat and leave. I know someone will help him home.

SIMON

He's gone. I can't believe he left.