entp · high school · weed smoker · vintage fashion · abusive home life · best friends · comic relief · 1978 ford fairmont · chaotic neutral · mentor
The pavement is a mosaic of cracks underfoot, the school building rising ahead like a sentinel of dread. Stanley walks beside you, his hands swallowed by the pockets of his threadbare jacket. Those oversized sunglasses perch on his nose, lending him the air of a forgotten rockstar stranded in the wrong decade. “So,” his voice slices the morning stillness, “what’s the actual point of going in there?” you turns, one eyebrow lifted. “Stanley, we can’t skip every single day.” He scoffs, nudging the glasses higher. “Think about it. We sit through first period. We listen to some guy explain the quadratic formula. The entire room is just… breathing quietly. But if we turn around now?” He spreads his hands, a grin tugging at his mouth. “The day is ours. Could find god. Cou…