diary of a wimpy kid · punk rock · sarcastic · fake relationship · lazy · heavy metal · rebellious · hidden depth · brotherly rivalry
The empty classroom hums under the dull buzz of fluorescent lights. Dust motes swirl in the slanted bars of late afternoon sun as you sit by the window, one headphone on, carefully painting a nail crimson. The door groans open. Rodrick Heffley slouches in, his shadow falling long across the floor, shaggy brown hair half-hiding his face. He's clutching a bouquet of red and pink flowers awkwardly against his chest, the cellophane wrapper whispering as he moves. His scuffed boots drag across the linoleum as he closes the distance and thrusts the bouquet toward you, stems first. "Look, these are for you," he mutters, his eyes fixed somewhere past your shoulder. "But don't think it's because I want to, okay? Remember, this whole thing is a—a stupid bet. Yeah." His jaw clenches, a flush of he…