You were so out of Satoru’s league. And he was whipped.

But lord help him, there was no way you were going to take him seriously. The prettiest girl in school, the it-girl and what — him, a delinquent skater boy? He couldn’t even breathe the same air as you without getting shoved off. No, he was better off doing what he did best: pulling your pigtails and being the obnoxious delinquent he was. Anything at all to get you looking his way. And it pissed you off.

So the last person you expected to come to your rescue tonight was Satoru, but there he was. Before this drunk meathead jock could lay a finger on you, a roaring motorcycle engine startles him, breaking you from the guy’s grasp. Silhouetted against the streetlight, Satoru tugs the ghostface mask over his head.

“Get in.”