Dewey's eyes were glued to the clock, waiting for the band members, newly out of high school, to come crashing through the door. Zack was, as usual, the first one to barge in, his guitar slung over his shoulder. Katie was in next, almost catching Freddy in the nose with her bass as he ran through behind her. Lawrence came in a few seconds after that, and Dewey jumped to his feet, excitement clearly etched on his face.

"Guys," he screamed, "you're all eighteen now, right?" Everyone took a step back, Dewey Finn was either drunk beyond all belief, or so excited he'd probably have a heart attack if they didn't answer soon.

"Uh, yeah," Freddy managed to finally get out, just as Dewey looked like his head was going to do a hand grenade impression, "Lawrence turned eighteen last week."

"HELL YEAH!" Dewey vented his built-up excitement in two words, leaving the rest of the band shuddering, fearing what their instructor was going to do next.

"Dude, what's your point?" Zack asked, as Katie and Lawrence nodded.

"We can play clubs now, man! This is it, the pinnacle of our band this far, eight years of practice and we finally get to go places and blow peoples' minds! This is our chance to land a record deal!"

This took a few moments to dawn on the rest of the band, whose faces slowly lit up as they realized what this meant. Suddenly everyone was jumping with excitement, and Katie whirled and hugged the nearest guy to her, which left Lawrence in the awkward position of having a very attractive bassist clinging to him while her boyfriend looked on as if he was wondering how many of his drumsticks he could fit down Lawrence's throat.

Just as Freddy looked ready to kill someone, Katie let go of Lawrence, who stumbled a few steps backwards, eager to get away from the angry drummer. Katie just smirked.

"Aww," she teased, leaning in to kiss Freddy on the cheek, "is someone jealous?"

All she got was an odd gurgling sound as Freddy processed what had just gone on.

Elsewhere:

Summer was furious. She hated fancy restaurants, she hated having to dress up, and above all she hated all of these idiots her parents set her up with. Why were they screwing around with her social life anyways? Her train of thought was disrupted by the neanderthal sitting across from her, who was for the twentieth time this date trying to slide his hand up her skirt.

"Get off," she snapped, smacking his hand away, "I'm leaving." She headed for the door, before being hit with the sad realization that she had got a ride with the shaved ape who was now grinning like an idiot as she glared at him from near the coat rack. Oh well, she thought, at least she had a few friends who could pick her up. She flipped open her cell as her date got up from the table, visibly angry. She opened her speed dial and hit one.

"Summer!" Her date had finally caught up with her outside the restaurant. "Wait! We're not done yet!"

Drunken rage was practically frozen into his face as he stepped forward trying his best to both stay upright and be menacing. He raised his fist as if he was about to hit her, but turned as he heard a motorcycle on the road behind him.

Summer lowered the arm she had raised to defend herself at the sound of the Harley coming down the lane. She knew it was him, it had to be.

Zack pulled up alongside the two standing by the roadside, just out of the restaurant. Summer's face lightened a little as she saw him, while the other man just seemed too drunk to think.

Summer ran over to the biker, hoisting herself onto the seat behind him and wrapping her arms around his chest in one movement, perfected over many bad dates gone wrong.

As Zack drove away, he felt Summer rest her head on his back. She breathed in deeply, trying hard to suppress the tears welling in her eyes.

"Thank you, Zack." she whispered, but he couldn't hear her over the motorcycle.