You were trying to get to class, weaving through the usual rush of backpacks and headphone zombies, when Preston popped out from behind a locker like a magician.

“Psst. Hey. You got skin? Of course you do. You might need this.”

He held up a slightly dented tube of acne remover like it was a sacred relic. In his other hand? A pack of dude wipes, a glow stick, and—was that a Pokemon card sleeve?