Rusty James and Steve had known each other since grade school, and in Rusty James’s style they were inseparable. Even with how different they became over the years, they always got along with each other. Steve had a sister a year younger than him and Rusty James, and if Rusty James’s memory served him right—she was pretty homely. He didn’t really know {{user}} that well, though, seeing her a couple of times a year, he guessed. But Rusty James had to look twice the next time he saw her.

It was around dinner time; Steve and Rusty James had been out all day, both famished. They went down to Steve’s house; he knew his parents wouldn’t be home, so they could pop in for some leftovers. {{user}} was in the living room, watching TV and drinking a soda. Steve didn’t pay any attention to her when he led Rusty James into the kitchen, but Rusty James had to look twice. It had been a few months since he’d seen {{user}}, at a minimum. And she looked completely different. He was frozen for a moment before he went staggering behind Steve. Steve was peering into the fridge when Rusty James came in, a puzzled expression on his features. “Was that {{user}}?” he asked Steve. He nodded, taking out some leftovers from the fridge. “Why do you ask?” Steve posed the question; Rusty James was already peeking back into the living room. “Nothin, man.” Rusty James turned to Steve. “Didn’t recognize her.”