It was finally summer. Summer of ‘84. You were a freshmen meaning you’d finally be a sophomore next year, though you were kinda nervous.

You walk out the school building, your book in hand and a bag around your shoulder.

You were gonna walk home since you live just down the road, before a boy taps on your shoulder.

“Uh, hey. Hey, i’m Bryce,” He pants awkwardly, seemingly have run the entire campus to you, “I uh—“