The bell above the door to the video store chimed and a soaked Zach stumbled inside, trying to catch his breath. Even though the sky had had that ominous gray to it all morning, He had gambled that it wouldn’t rain and had lost the bet.

He pulled the tape from under his shirt, flicked some of the drops off and pushed his hair back to get it out of his eyes. After he did, he leaned against the soda machine for a minute to properly regain his breathing.

An elderly lady gave him a pitying look, while a middle aged man addressed him directly.

“It’s raining?” he asked.

Zach bit his tongue, not wanting to start an argument with the man, then scanned the store, hoping to find Yuki, but found Mister O’Donnell manning the counter instead. He sighed, then headed up to the man, his socks making a squelching sound with every step. He put the tape down in front of Mister O'Donnell.

The man frowned, then shoved it back to Zach, “This isn’t one of ours. You didn’t lose the cover, did you? That’ll be exp…”

Zach shook his head and caught his breath, interrupting the man, “It’s Yuki’s.”

“Ah, Sukeban Deka! You liked it?”

“The parts I could follow were good…”

“Don't speak Japanese?”

“Why would I?”

Mister O’Donnell shrugged, “You never know what you kids learn in school these days.”

Zach gave the man a blank look, then immediately decided to gloss over it and turn back to the matter at hand.

“Is Yuki working today?”

“Afraid not, Sawyer.”

“Zach.”

“Sorry.”

“...Can you tell Yuki I brought her tape back and,” Zach started, then realized the man could barely remember names, “Actually, do you have a scrap of paper?”

The man took out a notepad and slid it over to Zach.

“...and a pen?”

“Does make writing easier, doesn’t it?’ Mister O’Donnell grinned, producing the requested implement from his pocket. It had the words ‘Sweet Sammy’s’ on it and Zach considered if he should even take the pen.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing, sir,” Zach said, taking the pen, forgetting that he shouldn’t even know who or what Sweet Sammy was.

He scribbled his address down, tore the paper from the notepad and slid it into the video case, then nodded his thanks to Mister O'Donnell.

“Guess I’ ll be going then.”

“Have a good one!”

“You too,” Zach muttered, took three steps and turned back to return the man’s pen.

He looked out the window, wondering if it was dry enough to walk back. It had started to rain harder. Weighing his options, he decided to wait it out for half an hour or so and took the video store’s inner door that led into the mall. If it was still raining later, he could always buy an umbrella.

The Albatross Shopping Center, or ‘The Alb’ as it was known around town, was slowly dying along with the rest of the town. A quarter of the lots were vacant, another quarter was having going out of business sales and the remaining half were major chains, many of which were already attempting to poach the empty properties to expand their own. Some of the town’s youths still hung out there in the afternoons, but most chose the excitement of the city as soon as they got a car.

Being stuck with just a bicycle, Zach still regularly found himself wandering the Alb, which had two places of interest to the local high schoolers. One, the food court, which was still the place to be to find all the local gossip. And two, Off The Record, an independently owned music store that managed to stay in business thanks to the owner’s uncanny ability to get everyone what they wanted, even if they didn’t know it when entering the store.

Zach wandered into the latter, more to have something to do than in the hopes of finding anything interesting.

As usual, the store was poorly lit, had whatever psychedelia the staff was into at the time playing and smelled of the owner’s chain smoking habit, mixed with a scent Zach vaguely recognized as pot.

He studied the new releases shelf, found little that spoke to him, then did a few laps around all the bins before stopping to see if there was anything interesting in the bin of discounted cassette tapes.

He was studying something called ‘Drahdiwaberl’, wondering how he was supposed to pronounce that, when he suddenly heard two familiar voices behind him.

“Zach!” the first said, “Thought you’d be moping.”

“With Summers gone and all,” the other added.

Zach turned to find, as he expected, his classmates; Rayne and Bailey, who must have been in the store when he came in, but lacking their cheerleader uniforms, he hadn’t recognized them. Generally, there used to be a third, who they religiously orbited, but with the queen bee having graduated, the two seemed to dare to talk to their social inferiors again.

Zach shrugged, “Life goes on…”

Rayne arched a brow and popped her gum, it was sickly green and clashed violently with the red lipstick she had on.

Bailey meanwhile put her hands, and the poster she’d been holding, on her back and curiously leaned in to Zach as if he were a particularly interesting mushroom she’d seen in the forest. He could still the chemical strawberries of a Slurpee on her breath.

“You know,” she said contemplatively, “With those dweebs around you gone, there’s potential here…We might still make something out of you.”

“...Thanks?”

“But we wanted to ask you,” Rayne said, putting her arm on Zach’s shoulder and leaning into his ear, “Now that Dawn’s gone…”

“We lost our homework buddy,” Bailey finished, leaning in so close that Zach could see her lip gloss sparkle, “And we were counting on her to graduate next year…”

“And?” Zach replied, trying to regain some control of the situation, unsure if was uncomfortable or pleased with the girls’ attention and sudden interest.

“And we were wondering,” Rayne whispered, “If you wouldn’t let us copy sometimes. …If you do, Bailey might let you take her out.”

“When you get a car,” Bailey said, bouncing backwards on the balls of her feet, “I don’t even go on first dates with losers after all.”

“I…” Zach stammered, trying to get over the sensation of the girls’ scent and general proximity, “I…”

“He’s a bit flustered,” Bailey said, winked at him, then pulled Rayne along to the door of the store, “Just think about it, Zach!”

“Hey wait,” Rayne said, stopping before Bailey had her outside properly, “Zach. Did you hear about the exchange student? From China?”

“Yeah, Jones told me, but…”

“Ew,” the girls said in unison at the mention of Mitchell.

“Is he in our class?” Rayne demanded.

“Yes, but…”

“Good... Bailey, Let’s make sure he’ ll feel welcome in our school. … I need the help with math. See ya, Zach!”

She blew him a kiss, then the two ponytails danced out the door. Zach just stared at the two leaving girls, unsure what had happened.

He was about to leave the store after them, when he suddenly felt a cold hand clutch around his wrist… Leather followed, then the sensation of cool metal against his skin.

“Friends?” Yuki asked.

“Not since grade school,” Zach replied, bringing his watch up to his face, squinting in the store’s dimmed light to make sure it was undamaged.

“Seemed friendly enough…”

Even though Zach was looking at his watch’s face, he felt there was a smirk on Yuki’s. However, his attention was fully on his watch, because there was something different about it…

“Hey!” he suddenly said, “It works!”

“Mister O’Donnell put a new battery in.”

“Neat, thanks,” Zach mumbled, “And I guess you know you have your tape back?”

“You would not have your watch if I did not have it.”

“Fair enough. Hey, I wanted to ask…”

“Hm?”

“Zach! There you are!”

Zach looked up to see his brother rush over to him.

“You need me?”

“Yup. Come along, dad found another horse.”

“Is it actually a horse this time?” Zach asked dubiously.

Sawyer shrugged, “Who’s the chick?”

“Oh, Yuki… This is my brother, Sawyer. Sawyer, Yuki…”

There was a brief shake of hands, then Sawyer grabbed his little brother’s hand, dragging him along.

“Sorry, Ukulele, I need him more than you.”

Yuki folded her arms, raising her brows and watching the Brooks brothers leave.

“Don’t call her that,” Zach hissed, then gave the girl an apologetic smile as he was dragged out the door.

“Slipped out,” Sawyer whispered back.

“Dumbass…”