Steve McCall rolled into the grocery store parking lot, the deep rumble of his motorcycle’s engine cutting through the usual hum of suburban life. The ride had been nice—a perfect distraction from the constant uncertainty that hovered over him like a bad cloud.

  He found a far-off parking spot, away from the clustered chaos near the entrance, and cut the engine. As he pulled off his gloves and reached for the U-locks, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

  Jeff (Incoming Call).

  He sighed but answered.

  “Yo.”

  “Maaaaaaack my man,” Jeff’s voice rang through the speaker, his usual over-the-top enthusiasm in full force.

  Steve/ Mack smirked, shaking his head.

  “What do you want?”

  “Oh nothing, just figured you’d wanna know that you’re about to win a whole-ass programming contest.”

  Mack froze mid-motion, one hand still on the lock for his bike.

  “What?”

  “Dude, I got picked to assist the Dean for the IT program.”

  “…And?”

  “And I maaaay have taken a sneak peek at the contestant list.”

  Mack felt a knot form in his stomach.

  “Jeff.”

  “Listen, bro. I’m telling you—no one else on that list knows Stroma AI or LUA scripting at your level. Hell, half of them probably haven’t even touched Another Life VR before.”

  Mack didn’t respond right away. There was a time when he would’ve been pumped to hear this. When he would’ve let himself bask in the moment of knowing he had the edge. But he wasn’t that guy anymore. Not after what happened at Access Games.

  He exhaled, shaking his head.

  “You remember what happened last time I thought I had a job lined up?”

  The other end went silent for a second.

  Then Jeff sighed.

  “…Access Games.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Dude, they sold the company overnight. That wasn’t on you.”

  “Didn’t change the fact that I had no backup plan.”

  Jeff was quiet for a beat, then scoffed.

  “Well, on the bright side, this is different. Registration ends today, and the contest starts in a few weeks. You’re in, so get ready for your future job, buddy.”

  Mack ran a hand through his messy dark hair, still gripping his helmet.

  “Yeah… we’ll see.”

  “You’re such a pessimist. Just take the damn win.”

  “I don’t take wins until they happen.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Well, I gotta run—the Dean’s messaging me. See you in class, champ.”

  Jeff hung up, leaving Mack staring at his phone. His gut twisted. He wanted this. Hell, he needed this. Because anything was better than what he was doing now—scraping by, working in retail, trying to hold onto his dream while the world kept moving without him.

  Maybe this is it. Maybe this is finally the break I’ve been waiting for.

  Not wanting to jinx it, he shoved his phone into his jacket, locked his bike, and turned toward the store. And that’s when she pulled up.

  Sarah gritted her teeth, gripping the steering wheel as she circled the parking lot for the third time. Finding a spot in LA was like playing Russian roulette—except less fun and with way more aggressive compact cars. She spotted an open space near the front and started turning—only to watch a tiny Fiat Mini slide into it like it had been planning to ruin her day from the start.

  She exhaled sharply.

  Alright. Stay calm. People suck, but you’re fine.

  She kept driving, eyes darting from row to row.

  Then—another potential spot.

  She turned the wheel, her heart lifting slightly—only to find it was already occupied by another Mini, tucked neatly between two massive SUVs.

  Why are there so many Minis in this city?!

  At the same time, she spotted another open space across the lot. Her foot hovered over the gas—And a white sedan stole it right before she could even aim for it. Sarah gripped the wheel harder, breathing through her nose.

  Nope. Not even gonna react. This is fine. Totally fine.

  Then—one last spot. It was all the way in the back, near the exits. Far as hell from the entrance.

  Screw it. I just need to park.

  She pulled up, about to turn in—And then froze.

  A motorcycle was already in the spot, and next to it stood a guy in a helmet, staring at his phone. She rolled down her window, voice tight with frustration.

  “Are you leaving?”

  The guy looked up, seemingly caught off guard.

  “No, I just got here.”

  Sarah clenched her jaw.

  I hate when bikes take up car spaces.

  “Can’t you park up front?”

  “I wish. We’re not allowed.”

  “People do it all the time.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I—” She stopped, then shook her head. “Never mind. Whatever.”

  The guy tilted his head, then smirked slightly.

  “I work here.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Sarah squinted at him as he pulled off his helmet and started walking toward the store.

  And then—He glanced at her, did a double take, and stopped. Sarah felt instant irritation flare in her chest.

  Oh god, is he checking me out?

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “What are you, some kind of perv?”

  The guy blinked. Then his smirk faded slightly, replaced by something that looked almost amused.

  “No. I just saw you in class today. Sarah Daniger, right?”

  Sarah froze.

  Wait. What?

  The guy stuffed his gloves into his jacket pocket.

  “And you said Skatz is your mentor?”

  Her stomach dropped.

  Oh no. No, no, no.

  She had been so frustrated during her introduction in class, so embarrassed that she blurted out the first “interesting” thing she could think of—And now this guy knew her because of it. Her face burned. Without another word, she rolled up her window and drove off. Mack stood there, watching her go. Then he shrugged and headed inside.

  Ten feet later, a car backed out of a parking space near the entrance. Sarah nearly screamed. Shutting off her car, she finally relaxed

  I'm getting hangry, I need to eat something.

  As she entered the grocery store, she grabbed a handbasket just as her phone vibrated in her back pocket. She glanced at the screen and groaned internally.

  Mom.

  Well, here we go.

  She pressed answer, already bracing for impact.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Sarah! I was just thinking about you.”

  Sure you were.

  Sarah switched the phone to her other hand, heading toward the produce section as her mom continued.

  “So, sweetheart, what are you doing with your life?”

  Sarah stopped in her tracks, her brain stalling out like a crashed program.

  “…Excuse me?”

  “You know what I mean. We’re happy to help with school, but your father and I can only do so much. Have you considered your future? Or are you still playing those little video games?”

  Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath, gripping a tomato like it was a stress ball.

  “Mom. Video games aren’t just ‘little games.’ The gaming industry makes billions of dollars a year. It’s bigger than Hollywood. There are careers in it—good ones.”

  “Careers for men, Sarah.”

  “Not just men! Women are making huge strides in tech and gaming. There are entire organizations that support women in the industry.”

  Her mother sighed dramatically, as if Sarah had just told her she was running away to join the circus.

  “Honey, that’s wonderful, but it doesn’t change the fact that you don’t have a job yet.”

  Sarah grabbed a bag of spinach a little too aggressively and tossed it into her basket.

  “I’m still in school.”

  “And in two years, you’ll graduate. And then what? Your father and I aren’t going to fund a hobby forever.”

  Sarah gritted her teeth.

  It’s not a hobby, Mom.

  She walked down the aisle, picking up a box of pasta and a jar of marinara sauce while trying not to throw them across the store.

  “If all else fails, you know you can always work for your father.”

  Sarah let out a short, dry laugh.

  “Right. Because consulting on spreadsheets all day sounds like my dream.”

  “It’s stable, Sarah.”

  “So is a career in tech!”

  “If you can get in.”

  “I will.”

  “Or you could find a nice man and—”

  Sarah nearly choked on air.

  “No. Just… no.”

  Her mother huffed.

  “I’m just saying, a little security wouldn’t hurt.”

  “I’ll get my own security, thanks.”

  Her mother sighed again, her frustration nearly tangible through the phone.

  “Well, at least think about it. Your father and I just want what’s best for you.”

  “I know, Mom. I do. But I need to do this my way.”

  There was a pause, and then—

  “Harold, you talk to her. She’s not listening to me.”

  Oh god.

  “Mom, no—”

  “Ignoring your mother again?” came her father’s voice, smooth and calm as ever.

  “No, Dad. I’m at the grocery store.”

  “Ah, I see. Your mother tells me you have two years left. That’s not a long time, you know.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes but kept her voice even.

  “I know, Dad.”

  “And your general ed classes are out of the way now, so you’ll need to start making real decisions.”

  “I have a plan. Tech is the new corporate America.”

  Her dad chuckled.

  “That’s true. As long as you can get in the door.”

  For the first time in the conversation, Sarah felt less defensive. Her father wasn’t pushing—just stating facts.

  “I have faith in you, Sarah. You’ve always had a knack for computers.”

  Her chest tightened a little.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Anyway, your mother and I have dinner plans, and you know how long it takes her to leave the house, even when she’s already dressed.”

  Sarah laughed, her irritation finally melting.

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Don’t be a stranger, kiddo. Call us sometimes instead of waiting for us to call you.”

  “I will. Love you both.”

  “We love you too, sweetheart.”

  She hung up, exhaling heavily.

  Well, that was exhausting.

  She was about to move to the next aisle when—Mack walked out from the back of the store. Sarah stopped mid-step, blinking as she took in the sight of him. He was wearing a red apron, his dark hair slightly tousled, looking completely at ease as he headed toward the front of the store. Their eyes met for a second. He smirked.

  Sarah quickly turned away, shaking her head—but a tiny, involuntary smirk tugged at her lips.

  Okay… maybe the parking lot thing was kind of funny.

  Mack continued walking past, unaware that as soon as he was out of earshot, she muttered—

  “Rules are meant to be broken.”

  Her mother’s voice immediately snapped through the phone.

  “What?!”

  Sarah groaned.

  “Nothing, Mom. Just—forget it.”

  Her father chuckled.

  “Let her go, dear. She’s busy.”

  Sarah smiled at that.

  “Bye, Dad. Bye, Mom.”

  “Bye, sweetheart.”

  She hung up the phone, feeling mentally drained, but at least she was almost done shopping. She moved toward the checkout lanes, setting her basket down—And froze. Because the register she had unconsciously chosen had Mack standing behind it.

  Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

  Mack raised an eyebrow as she stepped forward.

  “You’re not gonna yell at me while I’m working, are you?”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes.

  “Depends. You gonna block any more parking spots?”

  Mack grinned, scanning her items.

  “Not if I can help it.”

  Sarah sighed dramatically.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Mack chuckled.

  “I figured you’d go to another lane after how you peeled out earlier.”

  Sarah tapped her fingers on the counter.

  “Maybe I’m just here to intimidate you.”

  Mack smirked, leaning slightly on the register.

  “I’m shaking.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small grin forming on her face. Mack glanced at her again—really looked at her. Something was nagging at him. Her mannerisms.

  The way she got flustered when people put her on the spot.

  Is she…? No. That would be insane.

  Sarah tilted her head.

  “What?”

  Mack shook his head, ringing up the last item.

  “Nothing. Just… you remind me of someone.”

  Sarah laughed lightly.

  “Hopefully not someone annoying.”

  “Depends on how you define annoying.”

  She rolled her eyes, grabbing her bags. As she walked toward the exit, Mack watched her go.

  It can’t be… right?

  Sarah, meanwhile, felt her thoughts running wild.

  Well, he was cute.

  But we probably don’t have the same interests.

  Especially if he’s working here. He’s probably already dating someone anyway.

  Not that I care…

  She shook her head, pushing the thought away. She had better things to focus on. Like school. Like getting work. Like figuring out why the hell this guy made her feel so weirdly familiar. As she reached her car, she exhaled.

  Ugh, whatever. Like I'm ever gonna see him again... right?

  Oh crap. He's in my class.

  This is part of a series of stories that have lived solely in my head for many years, and I’ve finally started writing them as serialized fiction books. If you think the story sucks, feel free to tell me—it’s all part of the process. That said, I’m also looking for constructive criticism, so any suggestions are welcome and will be considered as I work to improve the series.