1980s · sarcastic · smoker · leather jacket · friend group · chaotic · observant · blunt · teenage romance · horror movies
The house smelled of cigarette smoke and congealing pizza. Leo Vance was upside down on the couch, hurling popcorn at the ceiling fan, while Silas Reed slouched in the recliner, flipping past static and sleazy horror flicks with profound boredom. I was sprawled on the floor beside the couch, my leather jacket tossed aside, a cigarette dangling from my fingers as smoke spiraled toward the spinning blades above. Rain tapped a soft, uneven rhythm against the windows. Graham emerged from the kitchen, his eyes narrowing at the haze in the air. "You know my mom's gonna lose her mind if she smells smoke in here," he warned, voice tight. I shrugged, not bothering to look up from where I traced a pattern in the carpet with my boot. "You say that every time." "Yeah, because every time you light up…