He showered quickly, the soap skating over his skin like water skis on packed snow. He was dressed as soon as he was dry. Stopping to make sure he looked presentable, he scanned himself in his bedroom mirror: khakis, black shirt, black dress shoes, black tie. “You clean up nicely,” Kai would probably say, though neither of them ever could figure out what the hell that meant. Leaning in closer, he examined his face, running his hand over his cheeks and rejoicing in the faint layer of stubble that had started to emerge a few days earlier. He couldn’t wait for it to grow thicker so he could shave it off and finally wear some of the aftershave his uncles always gave him for Christmas. He’d picked the bottles up so many times that he knew their weights just as well as he knew their smells.

The garage was ablaze. As soon as Theo opened the door, the hot air crashed into his face; it felt like he was being slapped by someone with fresh pancakes for hands.

The Civic was even hotter, the stale, sizzling air liquefying the grease he’d smothered into his crescent waves. Theo groaned and grabbed a towel from the glove box, wiping away the oil. Always prepared for the worst. Casually, he started the car and pressed the garage door opener at the same time, exhilarated by the fact that for the first time in two weeks, he was driving somewhere that wasn’t the gas station or Food Depot.

Theo sped toward Mr. Brown’s mailbox, opening it and tossing in an envelope with cash and a messy apology note. He sped away just as quickly, swearing he’d seen the blinds move.

South Cobb Drive was as busy as he’d expected, cars swerving in and out of an unending patchwork of sprawling plazas, gas stations, fast-food joints, and crusty apartment complexes. Theo was relieved when Cumberland Parkway finally appeared; it wasn’t much different, but at least its plazas had stores he liked.

Cumberland Mall appeared soon after. Theo parked near the food court, grabbed his resume, and hopped out. He headed toward the entrance. Entering the foyer, he shuddered as a blast of air conditioning enveloped his body. He could feel his summer being redeemed.

He walked the mall, considering his options. Food court? Too real. GameStop? Too loud. American Eagle? Too white. Aeropostale? Too black. Sears? Too old. Express? Too EDM. H&M? That could work.

He strolled inside, greeted by some Taylor Swift remix that he recognized but felt a desperate need to pretend he’d never heard. Herds of fifteen-year-old girls swarmed about, yanking clothes off the racks and shelves as their trailing mothers publicly frowned and privately shopped on the H&M website from their phones. “This is cute!” repeatedly erupted from unseen mouths, thickening the overly perfumed air.