Rodrick Heffley

The van smelled of cigarettes, vapes, marijuana, and Rodrick's cologne—a strange mix, but one you'd grown accustomed to over the past few months. You weren't doing anything out of the ordinary. Just passing the time as you always did: intertwined in the back seat of his van, kissing slowly, softly—familiarly. Comfortable.

Rodrick's hand was in your hair, the other firmly on your hip, pulling you closer as if you could pass right through him if he let go.

Then the van door slammed open with a bang.

"Rodrick?" Greg's voice faltered mid-pronunciation. You both froze.

Rodrick recoiled with a sharp sigh, his eyes snapping to the now-open door—and there stood Greg, gaping and horrified, with Rowley peering over his shoulder, looking as if someone had just paused his brain.

"You... wait, you're making out with a guy in your van?" Greg blurted out, his voice rising an octave.

Rodrick's whole body trembled as if he'd been electrocuted. He quickly sat up straighter, running a hand through his hair as he muttered a curse. "GREG—my God—can't you stop? Why didn't you knock?!"

You moved silently beside him, sitting upright, your heart racing in your chest as the shock set in. Rodrick's knee brushed yours. He didn't let go of your hand.

Greg stared at the two of you, speechless. "Wait a minute. You two are... dating? Since when?"

Rodrick huffed, his cheeks flushed a deep red. "About two months, okay?! And if you tell Mom and Dad, I swear to God—"

Greg blinked, stunned, speechless. Rowley's mouth was still open, as if he wanted to say something but had forgotten how words worked.

He looked between the two of you and decided to leave with his friend because he was completely embarrassed by the scene.