The television flickered with the slightly worn-out colors of an old animated show. The sound design was outdated, the voice acting a little over-the-top, but to Kevin, it was pure gold. Genesis: Protector of the Free—the cssic hero series that had defined generations.

  On screen, Genesis stood side by side with the vilin he had spent the st five episodes fighting. The two sworn enemies now forced into a temporary alliance.

  Kevin leaned forward, eyes wide, as he muttered under his breath, "Oh hell no, don't tell me he actually trusts this dude. He's gonna betray him the moment they win—every damn time."

  The scene transitioned into a brutal fight, Genesis and the vilin struggling against an overwhelming enemy. The vilin smirked. Kevin scoffed. "See? Called it. Happens every time." He pointed at the screen like he was teaching a css. "Don't trust a dude with a slicked-back haircut and a deep voice. That's a vilin checklist item number one."

  He continued watching, completely lost in the action. His fingers tapped against the armrest of the couch, his foot bouncing slightly with the rhythm of the scene's tension. Genesis was about to make his st stand when—

  RIIIIING!

  The ndline's sudden, shrill cry made Kevin jolt. He groaned, reluctantly pulling himself off the couch. "Man, the timing on these calls is unreal."

  Dragging his feet, he reached for the phone, picking it up with a half-hearted "Yeah?"

  "KEVIN TRADE! DROP THE TAPES AND GO GET DRESSED—IT'S SIX!"

  Kevin's eyes shot wide open as he yanked the phone away from his ear. "Damn, Roger! You trying to make me deaf?!"

  "Trying to make you realize you're te, dumbass! The party starts at seven. You need time to shower, dress, and mentally prepare to NOT be a social failure tonight."

  Kevin gnced at the clock. 6:02 PM.

  His heart dropped. Shit.

  He smmed the phone back down without another word, bolting toward the bathroom. His socks slid against the wooden floor as he nearly crashed into the hallway wall before regaining bance.

  "Why didn't you tell me it was this te?!" he shouted toward the living room.

  His grandpa's voice came back, cool as ever. "Not my job to keep track of your little social calendar, kid."

  Kevin groaned but didn't have time to argue. He swung open the bathroom door and flicked on the lights. The mirror reflected back a guy with messy bck hair, tired brown eyes, and a slightly panicked expression.

  The shower knob turned with a squeak, and within seconds, hot water filled the room with steam. Kevin jumped in, letting the heat wake him up. "Alright, alright. Quick shower. Quick shower."

  The water drummed against his back as he hurried through the motions—shampoo, rinse, scrub, rinse. By the time he stepped out, the mirror was fogged up, and the clock on the wall read 6:15 PM.

  Drying off quickly, he threw open his closet. "Okay, what screams 'I'm cool but not trying too hard'?"

  His wardrobe choices were...limited. He grabbed a decent-looking navy-blue hoodie, a clean white t-shirt, and some jeans that weren't wrinkled beyond saving. Sneakers—done. He ran a hand through his damp hair, not bothering to comb it. Good enough.

  Kevin stepped outside, the screen door creaking as it shut behind him. The sun was still hanging in the sky but had begun its slow descent, casting an orange glow over the neighborhood. The heat of the day was fading, repced by a gentle breeze that made the evening bearable.

  He let out a deep breath, feeling the cool air settle against his skin. It was still summer, still warm, but at least now it wasn't suffocating.

  As he walked down the cracked pavement, he slipped in his earpiece and tapped py. The bass kicked in almost immediately.

  "Mmm-mm, they chat on the internet, we don't do that, we do in-person…"

  A smirk pyed on Kevin's lips as "Limitless" by Central P filled his ears. The beat, the flow, the energy—it was exactly what he needed to set the mood for the night.

  The neighborhood was still alive with the echoes of summer. Kids were out now, making the most of the cooler air—riding bikes, pying tag, and sprinting through sprinklers left running by parents too tired to turn them off. Some younger teens hung out on porches, ughing at some inside joke, their voices mixing with the distant hum of passing cars.

  Traffic moved zily along the streets, some cars cruising while others impatiently honked at red lights that seemed to st forever. A guy on a loud motorcycle revved past, nearly drowning out Kevin's music for a second.

  He passed by a couple of stores—a corner shop with its neon sign flickering on, an old undromat with baskets piled outside, and a small pizzeria with a few customers sitting by the window, stuffing their faces. The city wasn't grand, it wasn't famous, but it was home.

  After a solid walk, he reached Clements High.

  For all the time he spent here, the school itself was...pretty unremarkable. A long, rectangur building with a faded school logo on the front. The walls were that weird beige color that every school seemed to have, and the windows were already fogging up from the heat of the bodies inside.

  And there, right near the entrance, was Roger.

  The guy had one hand in his pocket and the other waving at Kevin like he was signaling a pne to nd. He was about the same height as Kevin, rocking a denim-on-denim fit—jean jacket, bck shirt underneath, and matching jeans. A cap sat on his head, slightly tilted, and his light tan skin made the small goatee he was growing stand out more.

  Kevin pulled out one of his earbuds as he approached. "Took your sweet time, huh?"

  Roger rolled his eyes. "I swear, if I didn't call you, you'd still be watching that ancient-ass show."

  Kevin smirked. "First off, watch your mouth—Genesis is a cssic."

  Roger crossed his arms. "Yeah, yeah. And I suppose the graphics are 'vintage' too?"

  Kevin scoffed. "You wouldn't get it."

  Roger grinned. "I don't need to. I got a life."

  Kevin shook his head as the two made their way inside.

  As Kevin and Roger stepped into the school, the familiar scent of waxed floors and old textbooks filled the air. The halls of Clements High were nothing special—lockers lined both sides, half of them dented from years of abuse. The beige walls had a few posters clinging to life, promoting everything from "Join the Chess Club!" to "Safety First: No Running in the Halls!".

  The gym was straight ahead, where muffled music could already be heard through the doors. It wasn't anything wild yet, just some background tracks pying while students trickled in.

  As they walked, Roger leaned in. "Alright, listen up."

  Kevin raised an eyebrow. "Oh? We got a game pn now?"

  Roger smirked. "Damn right we do. I pulled some strings, worked my magic, and made sure you'll be sitting right next to Rana."

  Kevin blinked. "Wait, what? How?"

  Roger tapped his temple.

  Kevin chuckled, shaking his head. "You seriously went that far?"

  Roger gave him a look. "Kev. You wasted all of st year. Do you know how much energy I've spent just getting you in range of this girl?"

  Kevin shrugged. "I don't know, man. I feel like you're hyping this up too much."

  Roger grabbed Kevin by the shoulders. "Hype? Bro, I'm setting you up for greatness. You will sit next to her, you will have a normal conversation, and if you fumble the bag…"

  Kevin sighed. "What?"

  Roger pointed at him. "It's on you. I've done my part."

  Kevin exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "No pressure, huh?"

  Roger grinned. "Exactly."

  They kept walking, but as they turned a corner, Kevin's steps slowed.

  There they were.

  A group of guys standing near the water fountains, ughing loudly and acting like they owned the pce. Among them was Ronny Calloway.

  If there was anyone Kevin had history with, it was him.

  Not exactly a bully—more like an archenemy. Kevin wasn't the type to get picked on without throwing some heat back, and Ronny? Well, Ronny lived for conflict.

  Kevin side-eyed Roger. "Uh-huh. You made sure I wouldn't have to deal with him, right?"

  Roger gave a dramatic bow. "Do you doubt my abilities?"

  Kevin crossed his arms. "Yes."

  Roger snorted. "Rex. I made sure Ronny sits next to me."

  Kevin let out a deep sigh of relief. "Phew."

  Before he could enjoy the moment, Roger smacked him on the back. "Hey! Straighten up. I got everything lined up, but you're the one who has to make the move."

  Kevin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

  Roger smirked. "If you fail, it's all on you, buddy."

  Kevin groaned. "Bro, you're not exactly helping my nerves here."

  Roger just patted his shoulder as they reached the gym doors. "Good. Keeps you sharp."

  With that, they stepped inside.