Three solid days of rain had left Zach’s options rather limited. He’d had a few visits to the video store to pick up Yuki’s tapes, but mostly he had worked on his motorcycle and had to admit, his work had paid off. Especially as the engine actually started now.

He was working in the middle of the driveway, painting over some scratches on the bodywork, when he heard the sound of somebody approaching, though not the regular click-clack of feet on the sidewalk. He stood up and looked into the sun to see who was coming.

It didn’t take long too see it was Yuki. It did however take him a few moments to realize what she was doing.

Instead of just walking up to the house, she was dancing lightly, albeit not very well, across the pavement. She was very carefully making sure not to hit any crack, twirling and slowly getting nearer to the house. A red paper bag, labeled Prada, was cheerfully flying around with her pirouettes.

Zach smirked, cleaned his brushes in a mug of water, then stood up, waving to her. Occupied with the music from her headphones and whatever game she was playing, she only noticed Zach when she finished her dance in front of his house.

“Fun song?” he asked.

Yuki moved one of the cups from her ear before answering, “Ha?”

“Fun song?” Zach repeated.

She took the Walkman from her belt, pressed the rewind and gave the headphones to Zach.

He listened thirty seconds before answering.

“Very… Japanese?” he suggested, not really understanding the appeal, “What’s it called?”

“One Hundred Percent Haitoku no Reijou…”

“High talk … no ray joe?”

“Something like that,” Yuki giggled, taking her Walkman back and sliding it into her bag, before changing the subject entirely, “Guess what!”

“What?”

“Look in the bag!”

Zach carefully opened the paper bag, leaving a small smudge of bright green on the paper and groaned when he saw navy blue cotton.

“Chelsea finished it,” Yuki said brightly, then sounded slightly more excited when she added, “Want to try it on?”

“I would,” Zach replied, lowering his voice, “But mom’s home. I don’t want her to walk in on me wearing a dress.”

“Oh dear,” Yuki laughed, “Better hide it well then.”

She pushed the bag into his hands, then curiously walked up to the motorcycle he’d been working on.

“It looks better,” she observed, and without waiting or asking for permission, the turned the ignition and clapped her hands when it turned on, “Well done, Zach!”

Zach scratched his head, awkwardly accepting the compliment, staying quiet on the fact that his mother had taken the lead on most of the work.

“The paint’s still wet,” he said instead, “So be...”

“ZACH!” Tara’s voice cut through his words, “ Mom says you have to take out the trash!”

“In a minute,” he yelled back, then turned to Yuki, “You’ve met my sister?”

“Only admired her fashion sense from a distance,” Yuki smiled, “But if she’s like you, I’m sure she can be a lot of fun.”

“ Mhm..”

“Zach! Take out the tra…”

It was his mother now, stopping mid-sentence when she noticed he was talking to Yuki.

“You want a drink?” Zach asked, distracting from her mother’s dreamy expression.

Yuki nodded, “It’s a long walk.”

Zach, who had been hoping that she’d say no, nodded, “Then I’ll get you a drink and go take out the trash. If Tara ends up doing it, she’ll complain for a week…”

Yuki had been offered a seat at the kitchen table and Mrs Brooks and Tara had wasted little time in joining her to hear her out. They were in the process of finding out how Yuki felt about America and how it was different from her life in Japan.

The first thing Zach noticed was that it was odd to see her on the defensive for a change. The second thing were the evaluating glances she shot both to him and his friend.

“So, Yuki,” Mrs Brooks said over her cup of tea, “What brings you out here today?”

Yuki, who had opted for a can of orange soda, gave Zach a pointed look begging for help before answering. Zach shrugged.

“I’m here to make sure Zach can drive us to the city the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh. Something good?”

“We will camp out for concert tickets.”

“Zach,” Mrs Brooks said calmly as he joined them at the table, “That’s the sort of thing your father and I’d like to know.”

“Sorry, mom” Zach said, opening a can of coke, “Must have slipped my mind.”

“Concert?” Tara piped up, clearly suspicious, “I haven’t heard about any concerts. Who’s playing?”

Yuki stretched before answering, then turned to Tara and spoke without breaking eye contact, “Twisted Sister.”

Tara, who couldn’t help but feel she had been slighted somehow, turned on Zach instead.

“Twisted Sister? As if! Everybody would be talking about that.”

“It’s a special show,” Zach added hurriedly, “They’re only playing their old stuff. From when they were still called Silver Star…”

“Do you even like Twisted Sister? I thought you thought they were pretty straight to video.”

Yuki frowned at the phrase. Zach just gestured to Yuki.

“She likes them. I’m just going with her cause I can’t let a girl camp out all night by herself.”

Yuki bit back a reply and her smirk, very casually masquerading it as a smile, “Your son is a good, egg.”

“He sure is,” Mrs Brooks confirmed, getting up to refill her tea cup, “Even if he doesn’t always tell the truth. Zach…”

“Mom?”

“Do you remember what I said to Sawyer?”

“You say a lot of things…”

“That he should bring an inner tube if he’s going swimming.”

“Swimming,” Tara echoed the last word with a giggle.

“We’re not going swimming,” Zach sighed, glancing at Yuki who just looked confused.

“Just saying,” Mrs Brooks had mumbled after that, casting another look at the two at the table, “I’m just saying…”

Tara and Mrs Brooks had teased Zach with his ‘first date’ for most of the following two days and as such, he was glad to see the back of them on the morning of the sleepover.

He was less glad to find an envelope shoved under his bedroom door. It contained a couple of condoms, some money and a note.

“Take her to dinner first.

Love,

Mom.”

Zach groaned and pulled the satchel he had prepared for the day from under his bed, putting the money and condoms in. He waited for a moment, then pulled the Prada bag with the uniform out…

As far as he was aware, he’d be home alone until Yuki came, so he carefully pulled the uniform from the bag and laid it on the bed. It was a long pleated skirt, a shirt that looked like it belonged on a sailor, and a red scarf. He was about to drop the bag when he felt there was still some weight in it. Curiously, he put his hand in and felt something that might have been a furry animal. A moment later he had a wig in his hand.

“Dammit Yuki,” he said out loud, dropping the black wig on the bed. It had been styled in a ponytail similar to the girl from Sukeban Deka, including the bangs. Zach wondered why he had decided to go along with the plan and, contemplating if he could still back out, went to get breakfast.

It was somewhere between four and five by the time Yuki arrived at the Brooks house, armed with determination and a bag that held, among other things, a razor and a small case of makeup.

Zach stared blankly at her as she studied the uniform on his bed, then produced her own from her bag, comparing the two.

“Mine’s better,” she said, trying not to sound smug.

“Uh-huh,” Zach muttered, not seeing the difference, “So what do we do?”

“First, you are going to shave. Girls do not have peach fuzz like that.”

“Haven’t met my aunt,” Zach tried to quip.

Yuki, who was in full work mode, ignored him “ Lift your shirt.”

“ What?”

“Lift. Your. Shirt.”

She clacked her tongue in annoyance when he didn’t comply and pulled it up herself, then poked her finger against the little hair that grew between his jeans and belly button, “ That has to go too.”

“Heard of ‘my body, my choice’?” Zach fired back, pulling his shirt down again.

“You want to look convincing, right? Girls do not let that grow wild. Come on. In the bathroom and shave.”

Zach sighed, wondering how he’d ended up in this bizarre situation, but dutifully took the razor and retreated to the bathroom.

After he had treated the nicks and cuts, he returned to find Yuki ready with her makeup set. She’d already done her own and Zach was sure that if she had been sporting this look when they first met, he’d never have talked to her. Between the pale foundation, dark red lipstick and even darker eye shadow, the last word he’d used to describe her was ‘approachable’. It took him five seconds to realize that that was probably the point.

“Shirt off,” she said, putting down the powder compact she was using on herself.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt.”

“Why?”

“Because I am going to do your makeup and you do not want your mother to see stains in your shirts, do you?”

“Is makeup really necessary?”

“Do you want to be convincing?”

Zach sighed, dutifully pulled of his shirt shirt and dropped down in his desk chair, preparing for the fresh round of torture.

Yuki had put on of her cassettes in Zach’s stereo, humming along to the foreign music as she worked on his look.

“What’s this called?” he asked, trying to distract him from the q-tip that was uncomfortably close to his eyes.

“It is called ‘sit still' by 'shut up’,” Yuki muttered, checking her steps again, “Hey, do you hear…”

“Knock knock!” somebody called from the door to Zach’s room, “Hey, son. Your mother wanted me to…”

Yuki and Zach looked up to be face to face with Mister Brooks.

He stared blankly, then slowly shook his head before saying what he had on his mind, “Well. Looks like I don’t have to worry about you knocking her up…Or anyone apparently.”

“ I’m not gay, Dad,” Zach said hurriedly, “We’re camping out for Twisted Sister tickets.”

Mister Brooks gave him a dubious look, then looked at the innocently smiling Yuki, then back to his son.

“Look, Zach. I don’t care what you’re up to. Your mom bought you a riding suit. Wear it or whatever she’s going to do you will hurt much worse than an accident.”

“Yes, dad…”

“And, You…”

“...ki.” Yuki added for the man, “My name is Yuki. Nice to meet you, Mister Brooks.”

Mister Brooks sighed, “I think it’s nice to meet you too? Maybe nicer if you weren’t painting my son like a fruitcake. Anyway… My wife, she says you can borrow her old riding leathers. You know where they are, right, son? …Do I still call you son?”

“Yes, dad. I’m not gay.”

“Tran…”

“No!”

Yuki had watched the exchange, keeping her face an emotionless mask.

“Anyway Zach…”

“Yes?”

“When will you be home?”

“Tomorrow?” was his dubious estimate.

Mister Brooks shrugged, “Don’t take too long. I need you to pick up a horse.”

“Is it a horse this time?”

His father didn’t respond. Instead, he left the room, grumbling that he didn’t have to take that from a clown. The last Zach heard him mutter was that he at least had one normal son.

Yuki giggled, having heard it too and pulled out the lipstick, “Come here, Zach. Almost done…”

Zach stared at himself in the mirror, unsure if he was actually looking at himself. He put up a hand to make sure it was.

“I said you would be cute,” Yuki, who had also changed into her uniform, laughed, “But not done yet. Turn around.”

Zach turned and almost threw up his arms in defense when a red piece of cloth came at him, but it was only the uniform’s scarf, which Yuki had tied for him in a matter of seconds.

“Cutest girl in town,” she said, tying the sash in place with a small red white and blue circle of fabric.

Zach lifted the scarf, looked at the little ring that held it, then glanced at Yuki’s, which had a cursive letter he could barely read on it.

“Yours is different.”

“So people can tell us apart,” she teased, “Now come on. We should go.”

Zach, hesitant to leave the house looking like he did, shuffled his feet, “It’s not even close to eight.”

“No, but your family will be home soon. Do you want her to see you like this.”

Zach sighed, “Let’s just change into our riding gear then.”

Yuki grinned, “Yes, ma’am.”

Zach groaned again, getting his bag and finally casting himself a final look in the mirror before following after her.