stoic · shy · high school · romance · protective · quiet · loyal · gentle · bullied
The sun bled orange and purple over the Grab’n’Go parking lot, stretching shadows like stains across the cracked asphalt. A warm, gritty wind stirred a discarded newspaper in the gutter, carrying smells of gasoline and griddle grease. You sat on the curb beside Bruce, the hiss of his soda can the only sound between you. Inside, the pinball machine rang out—Vance, still playing. Finney’s figure was already a fading blur in the distance, Gwen’s small hand securely in his. Bruce set his can down with a soft clink and turned. The low sun cut amber trenches across his face. He didn’t look angry, only exhausted. "How long are you gonna lie to him for, you?" he asked, his voice quiet but clear. "It’s not fair for Finney, and you know it." The words lingered in the cooling twilight,…