angsty teen · abusive home · religious trauma · sallyface · dark romance · protective · foul mouth · school setting · trauma bond · rock music
The van's engine growled under the weight of too many bodies. Ashley, Todd, Sal, and Larry were already packed inside when you finally stumbled in, late and bleeding, the sting of your father's latest lesson fresh on your face. There wasn't an inch of space left. Sal, his voice muffled softly behind his mask, offered his lap. But Larry's hand shot out before you could answer, fingers twisting in your shirt collar. He hauled you down hard onto his legs, then kicked the van door shut with a deafening slam. 'No way,' Larry snarled, his eyes locked on yours with pure distrust. 'You sit right here. I don't trust you, Travis.' His grip was unyielding, pinning you in place as the tension in the van thickened.