“Yeah,” I admit, sadly, remembering how much Pete and I used to talk, how easy it used to be.

We turn a corner onto Lottie’s street, and I see her heading into her house. My heart aches a little as she reaches into the mailbox to grab whatever’s in there, the screen door banging behind her as she goes inside. I know her routine like a forgotten language. I miss her, but I feel a burning anger bubbling under that.

“You okay?” Dee asks, looking at me.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, sure. You going to come by the DQ tonight? I work till ten.”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

I know this is true. Dee rarely talks about her dad or her much older brother. I know she lives close by, but we never go there. She says her dad works the night shift and is always sleeping during the day.

“We’ll celebrate,” she says, calling at me over her shoulder as I walk up my driveway.

“Celebrate what?”

She lets out a laugh like a bark and shakes her head, shouting, “You’re part of something, now, Stevie!”

She puts her headphones back over her ears and disappears around a corner as I put my key in the door.

*   *   *

The DQ. It is exactly the kind of monotonous, soul-sucking job that my mom thinks should be the staple of every teenager’s existence. But since Dee came along, if there’s nothing to do and no customers, it’s not bad. I can hang out with her, which is always a plus. We work on homework, goof off, eat ice cream, and life feels bearable.

Tonight I am working on an assignment that Pete gave us for Media Studies class. I lean over the counter, the assignment sheet in front of me, while I pick at a Blizzard I made myself.

CHOOSE A FILM OR TV SHOW 10 YEARS OR OLDER, AND GIVE IT A NEW, MODERN MEANING AND CONTEXT. YOU CAN PRESENT THIS IN ANY CREATIVE MEANS POSSIBLE. REWRITE THE SCRIPT, AS IT WERE. WEIGHT: 30% OF FINAL GRADE.