"I feel like I'm forgetting something," said Fukase. He walked next to Oliver down the bustling street, looking through the reminder app on his phone. "But I don't have any notes."

"You and your notes." Oliver elbowed him in the side. "Would you forget to breathe if you didn't write it down?"

Fukase scratched his neck and locked his phone. "Undoubtedly."

"Oh! Speaking of, I almost forgot I brought these along." Oliver pulled a small bundle of tin foil from his inside jacket pocket.

"What are they again?" Fukase asked.

"Biscochitos. They're like a type of Mexican butter cookie. My grandparents gave them to us, but apparently I'm the only one in my family who likes them." He held them up. "I thought they might go good with the coffee."

"So that's where we're going." Fukase moved around a patch of ice on the sidewalk.

"Didn't I tell you?"

"No, you just said 'Let's go.'"

"Oh." Oliver looked ahead. "Well, we're meeting Flower there. Did I tell you that?"

"No, you just said 'Let's go.'"

"I did say that, didn't I?" Oliver mused as he stepped in a puddle.

The coffee shop had an almost steady stream of people in and out the front doors. A couple fliers hung on the window advertising new breakfast items.

Fukase easily spotted Flower sitting at an outside table with three cups in front of her. He couldn't help thinking she looked like a hipster with her red plaid coat and Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses. Maybe that's what this week's fashion phase was.

"I'm not staying long and I hate talking in line," she explained, gesturing to the cups on the table. "That's one's yours and that one's Oliver's. Even though you were supposed to buy me coffee."

"Thanks," said Fukase as he took a seat on her left. Even though he thought all coffee tasted the same—okay—he made a mental note to repay her.

"I'm not going to pay you back, just so you know," Oliver said, taking the lid off his drink and putting it back on. "And where are you going? March for wallflower rights?"

She smirked and tapped the table. "For your information, I actually got a hot date."

"With your dog?" Oliver smiled innocently.

She gave him a hard stare. "I'm gonna act like you didn't say that and you're going to rethink your life before you open your mouth again."

Oliver unwrapped the biscochitos, shrugging like he didn't know what Flower was talking about.

"Better stay quiet if you don't want your head bitten off," Fukase warned as he reached for a cookie.

Oliver replied, "Careful, they're crummy."

"Wait. Then why are we eating them?" Fukase inspected the cookie he choose. Maybe nobody in Oliver's family liked them for a reason.

"I mean they make a lot of crumbs," Oliver said.

"Then just say they're crumbly."

Oliver took Fukase's free hand and stared him in the eye. "Who the hell says that?"

"Hey, look," Flower interrupted. "Preppies at nine o'clock."

Len, Xin Hua, and another guy Fukase couldn't name walked out of the coffee shop, each carrying a disposable tray with multiple coffee cups. Probably off to meet their other friends from the school's bowling club.

"Gah, they act so pretentious," Flower huffed. "Especially Len."

They did look like preppies, with their perfectly groomed hair and clearly high-price clothes, but Fukase didn't like Flower's hypocritical labeling.

Or maybe he didn't like that he agreed with her.

"But it's kinda sad," she continued. "That kid used to be so sweet."

"Len was never sweet." Oliver broke a cookie in half and crumbs scattered across the table.

"Back in middle school he was super nice to everyone," Flower said, brushing crumbs away. "But I will agree he's a right preppie jerk now. Him and the whole jerky bowling club."

She looked at Fukase and he voiced a halfhearted agreement.

He never thought of bowling as a pretentious sport, but the way the preppies ran the club made him change his mind. It was probably against the school rules to only allow certain people to join a club, but nobody dared call them out on it. He couldn't tell what Oliver was thinking, but didn't have to wonder for long.

"Do you ever wonder what it's like to have like, a whole lotta close friends?" Oliver stared after the preppie trio as they strolled away.

"Like Len?" Flower asked. "Are you jealous?"

"No! I mean like a person... who has a whole lotta friends."

"Because there's a difference." Flower raised an eyebrow.

"There is!" Oliver waved his cookie for emphasis, and more crumbs fell.

"Why are you asking?" Fukase said.

"Well, I was just thinking, I literally don't have any other friends other than you two." Oliver spoke in such a deadpan voice, Fukase couldn't help a snicker.

"You worry too much for a blond," said Flower, running a hand through her cropped hair. "Let's talk about something else."

"I'm saving up for a car," Fukase offered.

"Oh yeah!" Flower clapped sharply. "Oliver, did you get your learner's permit?"

"Not yet," Oliver hedged, wadding up the tin foil. "I'm just not that interested."

"Then when? I applied for mine when I was fifteen."

Oliver mumbled into his drink. "Well, you're just like that."

"Excuse me?" Flower peered through her sunglasses like she could find the insult if she looked at him hard enough. Fukase held back a laugh.

A car honked. The driver of a silver Suzuki idling next to the curb waved his arm. Fukase almost waved back before he realized the driver wasn't waving at him.

"Here's my ride." Flower stood with her cup in hand. "See you guys later."

"Wait, what? I thought you had a car," Oliver said.

"Yeah, I do, but I'm technically grounded right now." She started to walk backwards towards the curb. "Can't use it 'til Monday."

"Grounded?" Oliver perked up. "Flower the Lady of Justice is grounded? Are we witnessing history?"

"What for?" Fukase asked as Flower spun on her heel.

"Mind your own business," she called over her shoulder.

They watched as she leaned into the open car window to give the driver a kiss, then swung into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. The silver car drove off and Fukase looked back at Oliver to find him gaping.

"Oh my God, she actually had a date."

Fukase laughed. "Yeah, she did."

"Why are you laughing? Didn't you see that?" Oliver threw out his arm. "She totally just kissed the guy!"

"Why are you getting so worked up? We met him like a week ago." Fukase looked up, then to the left. "Or were you there?"

"Pretty sure I'd remember if I was," said Oliver, exasperated. "What do you know about him? What's his name?"

"Uh..." Fukase pressed two fingers to his temple. "Huh. I don't remember. That's weird."

Oliver looked where the silver Suzuki had drove off. "Maybe we should beat him up."

"What?" Fukase broke into laughter, almost knocking over his drink. "Why?"

He stopped laughing when he realized Oliver had frozen, still staring after the car, unblinking like he had been replaced with a statue. Fukase's breath caught in his throat.

"Oliver?"

Please don't. Don't disappear.

"Maybe it's just me, but.." Oliver halted, inspecting his hands.

"You can tell me anything," Fukase said quickly.

"Why so serious? I just thought that maybe that guy's face was" —He tapped his lips—"kinda blurry? For some reason?"

Fukase looked at Oliver for a moment, and when he didn't seem to fade out, thought back. He remembered the driver waving, but any and all details of the guy's face were lost. Heck, how did he even know it was a guy?

"Hey, you're right. His face was blurry."

"Yeah." A slim girl with white hair leaned her elbow on the table. "Poor guy's only there to fill a plot hole. Good for us, not so much for him. And didn't they stop selling Suzukis?"

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Fukase stared at her deep blue eyes. They were strangely familiar.

"No one you've met in this trashy fanfic." She sauntered away in the direction the Suzuki went, the earth rippling in her wake. "See you in a later chapter, you two. I've got a plot device to catch."

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Fukase rubbed his eyes.

"Wait, what were we talking about?"

Oliver took an extra long sip of coffee and spoke to the cup instead of Fukase. "My learner's permit."

"Oh, right. Sorry." Fukase paused as he thought about what to say. "I was kinda nervous about driving too, but once you start practicing, it stops being scary."

"I'm not scared of driving." Oliver spoke with such cold sincerity, Fukase couldn't speak, words freezing on his tongue.

"I'm scared of kids jumping out." Oliver stared at the table, his voice low so only Fukase could hear him. "I'm terrible at paying attention to things. I've been forgetting stuff lately. I feel like I'm dreaming half the time I'm awake and—" He cut off and rubbed his neck. "I don't feel like talking about it right now."

This has to be the reason behind Oliver's sudden disappearances. Fukase wanted to know more, but didn't press.

"You know I'm here to listen if you are," Fukase said.

"I know. It's not you." Oliver leaned over to kiss Fukase's cheek. "I'm just in a bad mood today and I don't want to spread it. I'll talk to you at school. Bye."

"See you later."

Fukase gazed after Oliver as he dropped his empty cup in the trash and walked away with his hands in his pockets. Fukase wanted to help so much, it was an almost tangible ache in his chest.

The day had started out so good.

But there was always tomorrow.