Written: August 2007
Disclaimer: The characters and song are Kazuki Takahashi’s and the Everly Brothers’, respectively.
Author’s Note: This fic (not songfic!) is based off the song “Wake Up Little Suzie” by the Everly Brothers. If you don’t know it, go look it up; it’s a good song, and this fic is worth reading.
Dedication: To Auntie Kate, who’s new CD was playing this when I thought of this idea.

Wake Up, Little Anzu
By Pedal

It’s funny. Yuugi’s spending the day with his Grandpa at the museum for the hundredth time. While the Egypt exhibit’s still there, you know? And Honda, stuck at home babysitting. Well, stuck at home for the job ever since Death-T. I don’t even want to know how his sister heard about that. Miho’s... well, Miho’s off being Miho I guess. And no one can get a hold of Bakura, which isn’t exactly surprising.

Anywho, what was it? Right, it’s funny how Anzu and I ended up here at my apartment. Just us, when somehow, it’s Yuugi who binds us like this. I guess we never really thought about hanging out without him so much. Lately anyway; Anzu and Honda and I have been friends since forever, and maybe some of that went away recently. It’s not like we suddenly wanted to stop seeing each other, but more like it’s not worth it without Yuugi. So we rent a movie, buy some ramune, and make edemame. Not a big deal.

We’re sitting on the couch now, after laying down a sheet from my room. God knows what the hell is on it. Speaking of filth, I don’t even know where my old man is, and part of me hopes it stays that way. At least until the end of the night, until I take Anzu home. Last time she was here, she and everyone else nearly got a beer bottle shattered in their face.

The movie is terrible so far, a chick flick I gave into in favor of avoiding a horror movie that would most likely leave me trembling behind the couch. But this way we can talk and throw the odd soybean at the screen. This way I stay in control if Dad comes home early. But I promised Anzu’s parents she’d be home before ten. It’s a school night, you know. Dad’ll probably be out until midnight at the earliest.

Jesus, not even Anzu likes the movie so far.

No, she’s just asleep. On me. Her legs are curled up beside her and her head is so light on my shoulder that it’s as if she’s still supporting its weight. I grin at the stroke of luck—no, not at her falling asleep on me—at the fact that I finally have a good excuse not to watch the movie. Even so, I struggle to pay attention for a few more minutes, but it drags my eyelids down as my head is resting gently against the back of the couch due to my deep slouch. My feet are comfortably positioned among the cans and bottles and spilled ashtrays on the cluttered coffee table in front of me; I drift off too.

The door slams and my heart races in fear. Quickly, I piece together the blank and buzzing TV screen, the digital 3.56AM on the VCR display, the warmth on my right arm and cheek. My old man. I shield my head from instinct and in doing so, throw Anzu from me.

Anzu, shit!

She groans softly, and I grab her arm as I stand. The lights are suddenly on, blinding us and showing me the fastest way past Dad and out. “Katsuya!” I hear him bark as I lead Anzu down the hall.

”Jounouchi, our shoes!” she says, still sounding half asleep.

”Go ahead and go back for them, I dare you!” I scream at her as we fly to round the corner. Finally, at the elevators, we’re safe. Dad’s too trashed to follow us farther than he has to, thank God. Then, the ringing in my ears from my own voice and her startled face bring me down. “Sorry. Oh God, I’m sorry Anzu.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. What time is it?” She pulls my hands from my face and steals the left one to check my watch.

“Four,” we say together.

“Okay, first of all, my parents are going to kill us. Second. They’re going to kill us.”

“Cool it, let’s just get you home.”

“What about you? There’s no way in hell I can, in good conscience, let you come back here alone! My parents are nothing in comparison to your father!”

“I think you have that last part backwards, for one thing. As far as punishment goes, yes, you’re right. But I’ve always been able to handle whatever Dad can dish out in the past. Anzu, just shut up and get on.” She must have pressed a down button because an empty elevator is presenting itself to us. She glowers and pouts and steps into the badly kempt box before me, hitting the first floor button spitefully.

Silence as the elevator falls, and we walk out onto the street barefoot. Eventually, her tired blue eyes, full of moonlight, are still pouting up at me as we walk. “What am I going to tell my parents? They’re going to think we were...”

Rolling my eyes, “retty sure they were already thinking that. Look, just tell them the truth. If they don’t believe you, then they’re not worth the time.”

“Easy for you to say.”

After a beat, I ponder aloud, “You think they’ll notice or care if I stay over for the rest of the night?”

It’s her turn to roll her eyes. “We’ll get up before they do for school. I have an extra futon in my room. Just be quiet, okay?”

“No problem. And thanks. Really.”

Both of us are too tired to do anything but sleep. Anzu doesn’t even change aside from removing her uniform jacket, tie, and socks. We’re not too awkward, being used to sleeping in close vicinity at Duelist Kingdom and Battle City. Her cell phone alarm goes off two and half hours later and we’re on our way to school via window by seven.

We arrive early of course, without breakfast and in our wrinkly uniforms and different shoes. Anzu grabbed another pair of her own and snatched an old pair of her father’s for me.

We seem to notice around the same time that our entering classmates are wearing summer uniforms. And we’re still in our winter ones. From yesterday. Now they’re whispering and looking at us as they speak from far away. Anzu buries her face in her arms on her desk, and I lean back in my chair, sending trademark glares at anyone getting too comfortable looking at either of us.

Honda enters soon after, immediately dropping into the seat behind me. His head falls back with a blank look. I wait, counting slowly in my head before he suddenly jump-starts and lets loose a barrage of questions. Why are we both here so early? Why are we both still wearing winter uniforms? Why are they so wrinkly?

I reach over his desk to grab his shirt collar, ready to release a powerful counter-attack when Anzu slaps my shoulder disdainfully. I let go and pout at her. “Anzu?” says Honda quietly.

“It’s a long story.”

“No it’s not. Hell, I can tell him,” I rebuke, putting a fist to my chest.

“Let’s at least wait for the others to get here before we tell you. Even if it’s not that long, I can only stand to go over it once,” she defends tiredly before dropping her head back onto her nest of arms.

Sighing, I comply, “Fine. So, how was babysitting?”

“I think I’ll wait until everyone gets here to tell you,” Honda counters. Ouch. Then, seeming to think that this may not have been the best thing to say, bows very subtly as he stands and offers, “I’ll be right back. Do either of you want anything to eat?”

Anzu shakes her head into her desk. “Nope, we’re good. But thanks, man,” I tell him, and he leaves the classroom. “Hey, aren’t you hungry?” I ask Anzu.

Muffled, “I feel kind of sick. Don’t you?”

An empty, disgusting, dull pain hits my stomach and suddenly I know exactly what she means. Her parents impending punishment, my father’s wrath, everyone’s whispers. And no doubt Honda’s suspicious of us now. All I want to do is tell everyone within earshot the truth. Even if they don’t care. Funny how strong that desire is. “Yeah, kind of. I think I know why.”

“We’ll be okay.”

“Why wouldn’t you be okay?” comes the voice that drives me farther into this sick, irrational guilt. The morning sun glints off the Millennium Puzzle and directly into my eye for a couple seconds, inhibiting my response.

Anzu answers first, “We have a fun story to tell you guys once everyone gets here.” When my vision returns, her head is up, but her shoulders are still closely anchored to the desk, as if she’ll fall asleep any second.

Yuugi cocks his head and glances up at me. “What’s with the jackets, you guys? Did something happen?”

“We’ll explain. It’s no big deal, really,” I assure his gigantically worried eyes.

Anzu is sitting up now, yawning my name. “Jounouchi’s right. You don’t need to fret. It’s just a dumb story.” Despite this, I still catch immense hurt in Yuugi’s expression before he drops his gaze from us with a crestfallen smile.

“If you say so,” he says quietly as he takes his usual seat in front of Anzu’s desk.

Honda’s back, Bakura close behind him eating a muffin or dumpling of some sort. Tossing a wad of napkin into the garbage can, Honda reseats himself behind me. Bakura settles in front of me greeting everyone cheerfully through his breakfast, and I catch Anzu nod and smile wearily at me.

“All right, guys. Story time!” I clap my hands together and grin. This is good; Anzu looks a bit more at ease. I figure making this mess seem funny, while tricky, will cover the seriousness underlying it. “So since all you punks were unavailable yesterday, Anzu and I had ourselves a movie night. But the movie sucked and we both fell asleep on my couch, and—“

“Wait, your couch? You two were at your apartment, Jounouchi?” Honda interrupts. I mistake the worry in his voice for anger. Luckily, Anzu jumps in before I can refute.

”Yes, we were! His father was out and wasn’t supposed to get back until late. We tidied up a little and it was fine.”

“Wasn’t supposed to get back until late? Did he—“ starts Yuugi.

I take this one, “Getting to that. Now, as I was saying, we fell asleep during the movie. I promised Anzu’s parents I’d get her home by ten, but we ended up sleeping until my old man got home.”

“Which was about four AM,” adds Anzu. Everyone winces, more or less. I notice Ootogi and Miho and a couple others quietly gathering to listen as well. “Jounouchi woke me up and we got out okay, without shoes, but otherwise perfectly fine. We walked to my house and rested there before coming here. We must have forgotten about the uniform change in all the confusion.”

”That’s all? I was kind of scared for a second there that one of you had gotten hurt or in huge trouble or something,” Yuugi says, patting his chest and emanating relief. A second later his smile is gone and he’s whispering inaudibly to himself. Great.

As soon as Honda sees Yuugi’s mind is elsewhere, he leans in and asks us, very seriously, “Where did you each sleep?”

Anzu’s ready to slap him, but it’s my turn to cool her down. “We slept on futons on the floor in her room, head to toe. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing.” He backs off and fires up a conversation with Miho and Ootogi.

“This isn’t over yet, unfortunately. I can’t wait to talk to Mom and Dad,” says Anzu, face once again disappearing into her arms.

I rub her back from across the aisle and try to think of something, anything that could help. “erhaps they’ll understand, Anzu. All you can do is wait for now, right? Try to relax and think about what you’ll tell them.” Too bad these aren’t my words of wisdom. I remove my hand and lean back. Bakura finishes his moving speech and produces another dumpling-type foodstuff. As he sets it down on her desk, he tells her sweetly, “You should eat something. Even if you think you can’t; it will help.”

Before he excuses himself back to his desk, Anzu thanks him and takes a small bite out of her breakfast. One more reassuring squeeze of her shoulder, and I’m on my way out of the classroom for a drink of water. Just as I hear Yuugi ask, “So what movie did you watch?” he’s answered with a loud slam.

The jerk must’ve come in much earlier because when I spin around to see what the noise was, I see Kaiba, holding a book firmly to his desk, glaring at Anzu and the others.

“Kaiba-kun?” Yuugi says innocently, blinking at him. “Is something wrong?”

Ignoring Yuugi completely, his head darts around the room until he finds me before he starts, “What the hell!” He sounds more furious than I can remember since the whole Marik thing. His glower flies back to Anzu. The entire class is suddenly silent. I back against the wall next to the door and see passersby stop to see what the commotion is about. “Why is high school the breeding ground for so much sickening drama? You talk about friendship and trusting each other enough to make me want to slit my wrists, and yet you yourselves are so obviously guilty of hypocrisy!”

“You calling me a liar, Kaiba?” I roar from my corner, taking on a fighting stance.

He stands up so suddenly that his chair overturns. His hands land with a loud and terrifying slap against his desk. “Couldn’t you tell? Don’t be a monster, Dog. Tell poor little Yuugi and all the rest of your so-called friends that you’re really just screwing Masaki Anzu!” His piercing eyes narrow right through me. “Or would that be too mean,” he hisses without a hint of question. Thankfully, he looks ready to leave. Yuugi’s holding his head, making it hard to tell who he is or talking to. Anzu’s staring straight ahead at nothing, seeming to have dropped her pastry. Bakura and Honda don’t look as ready as I’d think to jump at me in case I launch myself at Kaiba, who has finished putting his books away. I can’t tell if this is for sudden lack of concern over Kaiba’s safety or my own. As he passes me, he remarks calmly, “And I thought I had picked a good day to come to school.”

I’m too fazed by his attacks to even say anything back, as I’m back against the wall, slowly registering his last statement; he hardly ever comes to classes because of work. And I thought I was lucky.

I leave the room finally, and the chattering starts up almost immediately. It seems my classmates focused their attention on me once Kaiba left. Just as I see him turn the corner, I bend to take a long, cool drink of water from the fountain. I only stop when I hear a familiar, but stern voice. Dr. Kaoku. “Forget your proper uniform again, Jounouchi?”

I turn and bow lazily. “Yeah.”

“ardon?”

“Yes sir, I sure did forget it,” I correct myself and enter behind our first hour teacher. He’s around middle-aged, but there’s no way of telling for sure. He has a cane, which throws me off, and he’s almost always on a formidable pain medication.

Anzu looks relieved when she sees me return, as if I was going to be mangled, dragged by the ear, both, or not return at all. Shuffling back to my desk on the far side of the room, I take a good look at our friends. Bakura looks completely fine for once as he gives me a sympathetic smile and mental pat on the shoulder. Honda nods gravely at me as I sit; he’s known me for too long to believe Kaiba’s bullshit. It seems he’s let Ootogi and Miho know that this is untrue.

And Yuugi looks. Both of them look they got hit by a truck. I can’t tell who’s in control, but I can tell that they’re talking to each other. Whoever I’m watching is very worried, frustrated, and on the verge of hyperventilating. Honda throws him a crumpled note, which he opens immediately. Probably something about how Yuugi or whoever should calm down and don’t worry. But he only crushes it against his head and grimaces.

“What the hell are you all so distracted about?” bursts the teacher, slapping his lesson plan down on Miho’s desk, which is in the first row. She jumps visibly and begins in her adorability high, but shaking voice, “K-Kaiba-kun was, um. He—“ Kaoku groans, cutting her off.

“Excuse me, Kaiba-kun made a commotion about some fictional speculation. It’s all right now,” Anzu states simply, composure never breaking.

“Thank you, Masaki.” Our instructor smiles very briefly and is pissed again in no time. “This true, Jounouchi? You didn’t kill Kaiba, did you? Where is he?”

“He left,” says a girl I don’t know.

“I didn’t ask you.” Rolling his eyes, Kaoku turns back to me. “Well?”

“No, I didn’t kill him. Wouldn’t want to worry you,” I tell him. The class giggles quietly.

“Dammit. I mean, thank you for keeping your fellow students alive,” he shoots back, and begins writing on the blackboard. With his back turned, he adds, “Mutou, wake up or get out.”

“Yes. Sorry sir,” Yuugi mutters in a low voice.

The rest of the day goes like this; hardly any of us speak unless it’s to a teacher, and Yuugi remains in a daze. It’s Saturday, so we’re free from classes by lunchtime. By the time we’re released, the novelty of Kaiba’s outburst has worn off from the rest of the class. Because of this, only our tight circle of friends stays behind to talk, as usual.

“Damn that Kaiba,” says Honda as soon as all of us are alone. This makes me feel better, having been in a kind of reverie the whole morning. I nod and weave through the desks to Kaiba’s to retrieve the papers piled on top. Kaoku gave me the punishment of bringing Kaiba’s homework to his house because obviously, I must have done something. I couldn’t find it in myself to care, much less be perturbed by it.

“I don’t get what would possess him to freak out like that! Usually he’s so calm and stays out of things like this. He either helps us out without knowing it or has no effect or anything.” Anzu is pacing up and down a row while I toss mine and Kaiba’s homework onto my desk; my bag is still at my apartment.

Anzu’s cheeks and ears are a bright shade of pink. I wish I could calm her down, but anything I say is bound to blow up in my face. I have a strangely strong sense of apathy about all this. Maybe later tonight I’ll explode too. The only issue I’m really worried about at the moment is Yuugi.

“Jounouchi-kun, why would Kaiba-kun say that?” he asks, hands turning white around the puzzle.

“I seem to have forgotten a book.” A cane raps on the already open sliding door to the classroom. Dr. Kaoku enters and crosses the room. “Mutou, if you’re going to call anyone kun, I wouldn’t go with Jounouchi and definitely not Kaiba. Now, why did Kaiba-kun say what?”

Anzu takes this, eager to vent on any available ears. But before she can let loose, I do our teacher a favor, “It’s a long story.”

At this, Kaoku looks like he wouldn’t mind throwing me out a window. I grin, and he sighs. “Obviously, if it was enough to make him lie. That is what you said earlier, Masaki, wasn’t it?”

“Well, I—“

“More or less. And it seems to me Kaiba would never let his guard down long enough to be tricked into lying. I’m bored and you’re all wasting away in this hot classroom, so start talking. Masaki, you can start lest we all be immediately decapitated.”

Anzu appears ready to pummel any one of us in anticipation. “You see, sir, Jounouchi and I went to his apartment and watched a movie. Just the two of us because—“

“You’re dating?” interrupts Kaoku. I slap my forehead. “Sorry, go on.”

“No!” Anzu whines. “Because no one else could come over for various reasons.” The others confirm this by nodding, still interested in the second retelling of our story. Calmer now, Anzu turns to me, handing off some mental baton.

“The movie sucked so we both fell asleep. Anzu’s curfew was ten, but I ended up getting her home at around four in the morning. We slept at her house until—“

“You slept at her house?”

I explain, “My dad isn’t too much fun when he’s drunk. We weren’t liking the idea of me going back to my place.”

“Would he have physically hurt you?” Kaoku says, too absorbed in the details and potential crime to be worried.

”Nah,” I lie. The temperature in the room rises or drops; I can’t tell.

Anzu goes on, “Jounouchi got us out when his father came home, which is what woke us up. He was a little ticked, so I offered Jounouchi a place to sleep on the couch downstairs at my house while I slept in my room.” Everyone makes a their own small wince or shuffling at each of these variations to the tale. Kaoku sees it this, but says nothing. “So we left before my parents woke up and came here together.”

Kaoku nodded slowly. “The dirty winter uniforms suddenly make sense. Now what the hell does this have to do with Kaiba?”

“Kaiba-kun overheard us the first time we told all of this to Yuugi and everyone,” pouts Anzu.

My hatred of Kaiba finally kicks in, “Then he got all high and mighty and ranted as loudly as possible about how Anzu and I are secretly screwing and should just tell everyone instead of making up these dumb stories. He’s probably just jealous.”

”Of something that’s not even there,” Anzu finishes, quite proud of herself.

“Yeh,” I add, frowning.

”I knew I shouldn’t have asked,” says Kaoku, standing from the desk he had, at some point, seated himself upon. “I don’t see the point in making everything so damn complicated. You know well enough not to listen to Kaiba. That boy needs a girlfriend. Maybe a boyfriend. Or even just a swift kick in the ass.” We all chuckle. “Masaki, do your parents know where you are or were all night?” Groaning, Anzu shakes her head. “I see. Jounouchi, will you be fine in your own household?”

In my mockingly polite tone, I respond, “I sure will, sir. Don’t you worry one bit.”

Flatly, “Right. Have fun dropping off Kaiba’s homework.” Kaoku made his way to the door. “Mutou, I want you to work on not spacing out and talking to yourself during class. If that gets worse, I’ll have to have a word with your grandfather. Later, kids.”

We mutter various goodbyes to him. But Yuugi looks at the door and back to Kaoku’s table at the front of the room; “He never got his book.”

~*~*~

Honda, Miho, and Ootogi head to the arcade while Yuugi, Anzu, Bakura, and I walk to Kaiba’s. The building is tremendous. An irate, steely silhouette against the high sun. Seeing as Yuugi gets on Kaiba’s nerves the least, we opt that he be the one to fiddle with the button-coated intercom thing at the gate.

He presses a larger gray button close to what resembles a speaker. “Hel-hello?” he says, and Mokuba’s voice comes back a moment later.

“Hey Yuugi! I’ll unlock the gates for you, just a second.” A booming click issues from around us, and the iron bars swing open slowly. “Come on in; I’ll tell Niisama to meet you at the door.”

But when we get to the front door, only Mokuba is there with a half smile on his face. He glances at Anzu and me a second longer than the others, but eventually turns to Yuugi. “I guess I’m taking you guys to his office. Follow me.”

Kaiba’s neck is bent awkwardly with a phone tucked against his shoulder (he’s not speaking into it), and he’s writing something with a pen and suddenly typing rapidly with seeming pointlessness. Everyone remains at the doorway, even Mokuba. Kaiba doesn’t seem to notice, so I walk right in and drop the papers on the desk-space in front of him.

He pauses in his typing, glances up at me through thin wire reading glasses that I hadn’t noticed upon entering, and hangs up the phone as if it is only a fixture. “Homework?” he says, slowly removing the glasses. He’s still wearing his uniform; I can believe he would have been too busy to care about changing clothes.

“Yeah. Kaoku sent me to deliver it.”

”Hm. Makes sense. Thanks you. You can leave now,” he tells me very calmly, slipping the glasses back on to flip through the pages before him. He does it very carefully and disdainfully, as if I spat on them. I suddenly wish I had. When I don’t leave, he peers up at me over the rims of his spectacles. “What do you want, a treat?”

“I want to know what reason you had for flipping out earlier! It was totally uncalled for!” I blow up, face heating. I pray he won’t detect the irony of my tone.

He looks only mildly interested, despite my shouting. “My parents died five years ago today.” His eyes linger on mine only long enough for me to catch one second of sadness, worry, and fear. He regrets it instantly; I can tell because he does not look up again and only points at the door with his shaking left hand. “My temper was probably short because of that, that’s all. Now please go away.”

Stricken silent, I exit, the others behind me. Mokuba’s gone, probably staying to comfort his brother and be comforted.

“Well, that makes sense,” Bakura finally says once we’re blocks away, shoving his hands into his pockets. I do the same.

“I almost feel bad for the guy,” I say, and Anzu nods. Yuugi is muted now, in a trance with one hand attached to the hem of my jacket, a frequent habit of his when supposedly speaking to his other half.

“It doesn’t seem like anyone at school still really cares. They’ll probably all forget about it by Monday.” Anzu looks better, relieved with some color back in her face. Then she pales, probably remembering her parents. “I should go home.”

“Oh geez. Yeah, you should. Let’s head there now. That okay with you guys?” Bakura and Yuugi nod, both a little distant. I roll my eyes and turn to Anzu, “What do you think they’ll do?”

“I don’t want to think about it. Probably ground me for a month or something,” she whines, burying her face in her hands. If Yuugi wasn’t latched onto my jacket, I might have but my arm over her shoulders. As a strictly brotherly comfort, of course.

But when we get to her house, her parents come out smiling. They hug her immediately, telling her how glad they are that she’s okay. Her mother puts her hands on my shoulders. “Katsuya-kun, thank you so much for making sure Anzu was safe.”

”What are you talking about, Mom?” asks Anzu, still holding her father’s arm.

He answers, “Your teacher called each of us at work and explained everything about last night. Just be careful in the future, all right?” He smiles particularly at me.

I grin back out of instinct, winging it. “No problem.” Then, venturing out a little further, “Mind if we steal your daughter for some lunch and ice cream? We’ll get her back by dinner tonight. You have my word.”

Anzu shoots a threatening look to me, but stops when her mother tells me of course we can and don’t spend too much money.

We leave in a sort of daze, feeling refreshed and slightly confused. And we skip lunch to have plenty of ice cream and blow lots of money, feeling freer than ever from any sort or authority. By the time dinner rolls around, Bakura, Anzu, and I walk Yuugi to the game shop since it’s closest to where we are.

Bakura smiles serenely, looking somewhat akin to the angel on his favorite card. “Would you two mind if talked to just Yuugi for a second?”

I raise an eyebrow and Anzu nods, dragging me out the glass door. We say nothing as we wait for several minutes. Finally, Bakura emerges and we see Yuugi waving cheerfully from inside, all traces of his anxiety gone.

”Wow, what did you say to him?” I ask, earning another light slap on the arm from Anzu.

“I told him the truth, as far as I can speculate,” he replied very simply.

Suspicious that this was different from what we had explained earlier, “And what would that be?”

”Oh nothing. Just that you guys would tell him right away when you started dating and that you wouldn’t hide anything from him. Turns out that’s really all he was worried about. Apparently he doesn’t still fancy you, Anzu, so that wasn’t the problem.”

“What!?” Anzu bursts, stopping dead. We cease our walking as well, inspecting her curiously. When she does speak again, her voice is strained and frightened again. But unlike with her parents, her face was nearly completely flush. “First of all, what made you think Jounouchi and I would go out? Second of all, what!?”

Bakura chuckles, backing away and shielding himself as if one of us would playfully hit him. I follow his lead, smiling at Anzu. “Very funny. But thanks. I owe you one.”

“Not at all,” he smiles back. “I’ll see you guys Monday, yeah?”

“Sure will. See you then!”

And he splits off from us, heading off toward his apartment building. Anzu and I are alone again, and she turns to me, very incredulously, “Today has been way too weird.”

“I think my luck has prevailed once again,” I announce proudly, pounding a fist to my chest. This gets a giggle from her, and I feel better than I have all day, like a cold sweat after nausea passes away.

Her parents invite me to eat dinner with them, and they mention nothing of yesterday. Everything is fresh, new conversation. I don’t let a lull appear in the conversation if I can help it. This is good since I eat so fast; talking excessively puts on the illusion that I’m eating at a normal speed.

At the end of the evening, Anzu walks me to the sidewalk as I leave. “I’ll give back your dad’s shoes tomorrow,” I’m saying.

”Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. Can we hang out tomorrow?”

”Sure, I guess. What about—“

“Just us?”

She pauses for a long while. I yawn. “I’d like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry about the damn winky faces. I hope it doesn't ruin the story too much. I don't like the lit catagories anymore. I want my picture to be included. T-T