"You can't just leave, Amber!" Frank growled as he spilled out of his van.

A minute earlier, Rachel had told him the news that she no longer wanted to continue communicating with him, and in general, it wasn't about him, but about her. They're so different: she's a woman, he's a man. Well, they were not destined to be together either as lovers (which, contrary to his opinion, they never were) or as friends (same).

"Yeah, watch me." She waves it off indifferently.

Bowers doesn't lag behind — he trails after her like a devoted dog, which irritates her unbearably. He was always so obsessive, not knowing when to fuck off. Oh, and he also believed that they were really dating, even though she was only hanging out with him because of the weed.

So grown up, but so dumb.

Rachel is ready to throw herself in front of a passing car, just to avoid further dialogue — he will surely start whining — but she ignores this desire. For now. Clenching her fists, she accelerates, but the man's voice does not subside, on the contrary, he breaks into a scream, and she almost feels ashamed of him. And for the fact that he attracts the attention of everyone around him.

Everyone, including you.

Her green eyes flash with vague recognition: she doesn't know your name, but it seems you went to Blackwell like her — oh, she definitely wouldn't forget that ugly bag — and you even had a few classes together where you did well. She may even have copied your homework a couple or maybe a little more than a couple of times.

Rach throws her hand up, waving it vigorously, as if turned on.

"Hey! Hey, girl, have you been waiting long?" She exclaims enthusiastically, catching up with you in a few wide strides, and her arm wraps around your forearm. She has to stifle a giggle when your face falls in surprise. Well, it's not every day that Blackwell's most popular girl behaves with you as if you've known her for years. "I'm sooo hungry, aren't you?"

Rachel doesn't wait for an answer, instead pulling you with her to the Two Whales diner.