Chapter 21
Andy had the day off from the hardware store, and for once, he didn’t plan to spend it sleeping in.
After half an hour of pacing his room and rewriting the same text three times, he’d finally just called Kelle—actually called her—and asked if she wanted to grab lunch and then hit Cyberline.
After she said yes and they agreed where to meet, he ended the call, stared at his phone in disbelief for a full second, then quietly jumped in the air and pumped his fist like an idiot.
Now they were walking down the street from the bus stop they’d met at, the midday sun glinting off shop windows and the smell of fries drifting from the burger joint up ahead.
“I can’t believe you’re willingly giving up a day off at the beach when it’s right outside your door,” she teased, bumping his arm.
Andy shrugged, trying to sound casual even though his pulse said otherwise. “Figured I’d make an exception. Besides, Cyberline’s got that new VR setup—the one with the full rig.”
She grinned. “Right. You just wanted to show off your nerd cred.”
“Guilty,” he admitted, but when she laughed, the sound was worth every ounce of courage it had taken to make that call.
It wasn’t long before they sat at a table outside the restaurant, with a spread of burgers, fries, and sodas between them.
Andy swore he’d never tasted fries that good—or maybe that was just because Kelle was sitting across from him, her laugh cutting through the noise of traffic and the murmur of conversation from other tables.
Between bites, he cleared his throat. “Hey, uh... do you ever go to the beach much?”
She looked up, surprised. “Sometimes. Usually with my cousins or a few friends. Why?”
He shrugged, trying to sound offhand even as his palms started to sweat.
“I was thinking, maybe... sometime this week, we could go? You know—hang out, toss a football or something. We can invite a few friends too.” He tacked on that last part.
As much as he wanted it to be just the two of them, he was still nervous that she wanted to be friends only, instead of his girlfriend.
A slow and easy smile spread across her face. “Yeah, that sounds fun.”
“Cool. Yeah. Cool,” he said too quickly, chasing it with a sip of soda to cover the heat climbing up his neck.
She went back to her fries, but Andy’s brain immediately betrayed him—painting a vivid picture of Kelle in a white bikini, sunlight glinting off her tanned skin, and her laughter echoing over the waves.
Nope. Absolutely not. Abort mission. Abort, damn it!
He started mentally running through code strings, anything to short-circuit his teenage hormones.
If x equals awkward, then stop thinking about bikinis. End process.
By the time she asked if he wanted to split an ice cream sundae, he’d mostly managed to get his body under control. Mostly.
After dessert, they headed down the block toward Cyberline Computers.
The store sat between a pawn shop and a cell phone repair place, its front window dominated by a Ghost Thread: Echo poster—the brooding warrior mid-swing against a wall of fire and shadow.
Andy had been eyeing that poster for weeks, every time he passed the shop or went in.
He was thinking about the unboxing, the smooth shrink wrap under his fingers, when movement drew his attention.
Three guys lounged against the brick wall by the pawn shop just before Cyberline. They weren’t talking, just watching, like they’d been waiting. Black hoodies, despite the warm June afternoon. Ink crawling up their necks. Andy recognized the tallest right away. Diego.
His stomach dipped. Shit.
“Keep walking,” Andy muttered under his breath, but his voice cracked.
Kelle glanced sideways at him, brows pinching. Before she could say anything, Diego pushed off the wall as they approached.
“Well, well.” His smile cut sharply across his lean face, all angles and shadows. “If it isn’t Bing.”
Andy froze. The nickname hit him like a punch to the gut. He hated the way it rolled off Diego’s tongue—mocking, claiming. When Jimmy had used it at the hardware store, it was like a joke between coworkers or friends. From the gang leader, it made Andy’s skin crawl.
He didn’t bother pretending enthusiasm. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice flat.
Diego’s grin widened. “Relax, man. Just saying hi. No need to get all jumpy.”
Andy said nothing, keeping his stance casual even as his pulse kicked. He wanted nothing to do with Diego or his crew—not after the last time, when their idea of “hanging out” had ended with flashing lights, shouting, and his wrists in handcuffs.
Diego’s crew slid away from the wall to block the sidewalk.
On Diego’s right was Jax—about fifty pounds heavier than Andy, and a pale scar slicing through his eyebrow.
His smile was slow and deliberate, as if he were daring Andy to flinch.
Toad was the other asshole, his broad shoulders straining against his hoodie, and his fingers flexing as if he couldn’t stay still.
His eyes darted constantly—he was probably high as a kite.
The three of them fanned out, claiming the stretch of sidewalk as theirs.
Kelle stiffened beside Andy. He didn’t look at her. If he saw fear in her eyes, it would only make it worse. Instead, he stepped in front of her, trying to keep her hidden from the punks.
Diego’s gaze slid over Andy’s shoulder toward her anyway, his wicked grin stretching wider. “And who’s this? Your girl?”
“She’s none of your business,” Andy snapped. His voice fractured again, betraying him, and heat crawled up the back of his neck. Annoyance flickered through him—at Diego, at himself, at the whole damn situation.
From their left, Jax smirked. He reached out, fingers angling toward Kelle’s hair.
Andy’s pulse spiked. Before he could react, Kelle slapped the hand away with a sharp crack that echoed off the brick.
“Touch me again and see what happens,” she said, her voice steady even though her shoulders rose tight.
Pride swelled in Andy’s chest, but it wavered when he caught the tremor in her exhale. She was bluffing, just like he was.
Toad chuckled and shifted a step closer, angling toward Kelle.
Andy squared his shoulders and shifted slightly, enough to block her with his body.
But she was within Jax’s reach again. They were surrounded.
While the street was busy, only a few people were in Andy’s line of sight.
None looked likely to help—a woman with a stroller, an older man walking a Chihuahua, and two preteens weaving by on skateboards.
His fists tightened, nails biting into his palms, but he forced them to stay at his sides. He wasn’t stupid enough to swing first—he knew exactly how that would end.
“Relax,” Diego said, but there was nothing relaxed in his eyes.
“We’re just saying hello. And maybe letting Bing know he’s got potential.
” He tilted his head. “Computers, right? Fast fingers. A brain like yours could make real cash if you weren’t wasting time stacking shelves at some old hardware store. ”
Stacking shelves at a hardware store?
How did the asshole know where he worked? Andy’s stomach knotted. “Not interested.”
Diego leaned closer, and Andy caught the stink of cigarettes on his breath. “Not really asking. Next time I come calling, you’ll want to be smarter.”
Andy’s throat dried out. He wanted to shove him back, but his body stayed locked in place.
Then an engine growled down the street. A patrol car turned the corner, headlights sweeping across the sidewalk.
Diego’s smile flattened. He tapped Andy lightly on the chest, a mock-friendly pat that made Andy flinch. “We’ll chat again soon, Bing.”
With a sharp tilt of his head, he motioned to Jax and Toad. The three of them slipped into the alley, their footsteps fading into the narrow space between buildings until they disappeared completely.
Andy stayed frozen, his fists still tight, his pulse hammering. Only when the car rolled past without slowing did he feel his body again. He risked a glance at Kelle. She clutched the strap of her bag like it was the only thing holding her steady.
“You okay?” His voice came out rough.
She nodded, though the shine in her eyes betrayed her.
Andy swallowed hard, forcing air into his lungs. Diego hadn’t been bluffing.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t over.
He forced his shaky legs to move, steering them the last few yards to Cyberline.
The glass storefront caught the afternoon light, throwing everything into sharp, ordinary focus—as if the last five minutes hadn’t happened at all.
He pulled the door open for Kelle, needing the normalcy as much as the air-conditioning inside.
The cool air washed over him, carrying the sharp scent of plastic wrap and new electronics.
The hum of computers and the flicker of monitors filled the space, spilling color across the linoleum floor.
Rows of shelves stretched toward the back, lined with games, accessories, and shiny new hardware.
Normally, the place was a piece of paradise, in his opinion. Today, it wasn’t comforting at all.
Kelle followed him in, arms crossed tight. “Andy...” Her voice was quiet, almost swallowed by the machines’ buzz. “What was that out there? Those guys—Diego, or whatever his name is—he acted as if he knew you.”
Andy busied himself with the shelf stacked with Ghost Thread: Echo boxes, straightening them though they didn’t need it. His hands shook slightly. “He doesn’t. Not really.”
“That didn’t feel like ‘not really,’” she pressed. “They stopped us on purpose.”
He grabbed a box just to have something in his hands. “They’ve been hanging around lately. Trying to mess with me. That’s all.”
“Mess with you how?”
Andy shook his head. He didn’t want her dragged into this. “Doesn’t matter. They’re jerks looking for attention. The cops came by, and they scattered. End of story.”
She frowned, studying him. For a moment, he thought she’d push harder, but instead, she nudged his arm. “Fine. But if they try something again, you'd better tell me. I can slap harder than that guy thinks.”
A startled laugh burst out of him. The tension in his chest eased just a fraction. “Yeah, I don’t doubt it.”
That earned a grin, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Now are you buying that game or what?”
He set the box on the counter. The cashier rang it up with a smile, sliding the receipt into the bag. Andy tried to act normal, but Diego’s words clung like smoke.
We’ll chat again soon, Bing.