February 2, 2016
Walkerville High Cafeteria
12:02 P.M.
"And that," Wanda concluded with pride, "Is how we will make tonight the most legendary Groundhog Day party in the history of Walkerville. Any questions?"
Ralphie's hand shot up in the air. "Yeah, where are you going to get a truckload of TNT?"
"I have sources." She brushed her hair over her shoulder.
"And the fireworks?"
"Sources."
"And the cannisters of nitrous oxide?"
Wanda crossed her arms impatiently. "Look, do I ask you where you get all those stupid red hats from? You worry about your business, and I'll worry about mine."
As Ralphie pouted and shut his mouth, Keesha rolled her eyes. "Okay, I have a question: are you actually insane?"
"Jury's out on that one."
Before Keesha could reply to her friend's brief response, the cafeteria was filled with the shrill, sharp tone of microphone feedback blaring from the school's announcement system. Keesha grimaced at the sound and all around, teens hands desperately shot up to cover their ears. As usual, the monotone voice of Mr. Adams over the intercom offered no acknowledgement of the pain-ridden students.
"Students of…" The sound of shuffling papers filled the air. "Hm… Oh, Walkerville High. Right. This is an emergency PSA. We have just received word from town hall of a disaster of unmatched proportions. I repeat, this is not a drill."
DA shook her head. "Way to keep people calm," she muttered.
The announcement continued. "After an unfortunate accident this morning, it seems that Phyllis has escaped."
In an instant, all eyes turned towards the intercom in horror.
"Phyllis?" Tim murmured in disbelief.
"Not Phyllis!" Arnold echoed dismally.
Wanda frowned. "Wait, why does that name sound familiar?"
Ralphie looked to Wanda, eyes wide. "Come on, Wan – Phyllis!"
"Walkerville Town Groundhog!"
The simultaneous cry from around the table echoed throughout the deathly silent cafeteria, and Wanda's mouth fell open. "No, not Phyllis! She's a legend! She's the only reason I could convince Mr. Rhule to give us those six extra weeks of winter break for in fifth grade!"
"And, more importantly, she's a part of this town," Phoebe added solemnly with watering eyes. "I hope she's okay, wherever she is."
More microphone feedback sounded. "Town hall has ordered an emergency search and rescue mission for Phyllis. Until that groundhog is recovered, classes are hereby cancelled. Students of Walkerville High, get out there and find our Phyllis!"
Wanda jumped up from the lunch table. "You don't have to tell us twice. Party's off, guys – we've gotta find that…" She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Uh, what is a groundhog anyway? Like, a rodent or something?"
"I think so." Carlos shrugged. "A mammal, definitely."
"Okay. We've gotta find that mammal, then!"
February 2, 2016
Street
12:49 P.M.
Panting, Ralphie collapsed onto the ground next to Dorothy Ann's feet. "You were right-" he uttered breathlessly, face down on a lawn of lush green grass. "Definitely a squirrel."
"Yeah, I figured as much when it started climbing the tree." DA loomed down at the pathetic heap that was her friend and sighed. "But, uh… Good try, I guess."
As Ralphie worked on recovering from what had turned into a rather lengthy chase, DA scanned the area for any sign of the town's missing groundhog. The group, along with the rest of the town, had broken down into small groups to track down the creature, and somehow or another, she had ended up stuck with the resident jock. She didn't mind Ralphie by any means, but he certainly wasn't her first choice of partner.
Oh well. Phyllis was an important part of Walkerville, and if working with Ralphie was the only way to save her, DA would just have to put up with his wandering mind.
"Groundhogs tend to stay on the ground," she mused, speaking mostly to herself. Ralphie was still gasping away; there was little chance he was paying attention to her right now anyway. "She'd probably stick to the open fields and lawns. Or would she go as far as the forest?"
"Hey, DA." Ralphie had pushed himself up and was now sitting at attention, looking up at the blonde with wide, blank eyes. "Why do you care about Phyllis so much?"
DA raised a brow. "What do you mean? Everyone loves Phyllis."
"Yeah, but…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Aren't you normally, like… Above this kind of thing?"
"I just want to help where I can," DA shrugged, turning away.
"With groundhog tracking?"
Ralphie clambered to his feet and at long last, the pair could continue their search of the neighborhood. As they walked, DA considered her friend's question. "Well… Groundhog Day is important, isn't it? It's all about choosing between making fresh starts or carrying on with old, toxic patterns. Maybe I don't want to be smart and sensible all the time; maybe I just want to make fun memories with friends while I still can."
Ralphie nodded along seriously. "Right. Like the movie."
"Uh… Sure. Just like the movie. I just think… I don't know, maybe it's time to stop forcing maturity? I want to enjoy the present moment more from now on. And this is the perfect time to start."
DA pulled her jacket tightly around her as a cool breeze picked up. She wasn't used to sharing her private thoughts so openly, especially not with Ralphie of all people, but the imminent threat of college was impossible to ignore any longer. DA knew she didn't have time to put off good times or serious talks; it was better to simply take things as they come, even if those things happened to involve something as ridiculous as a lost town groundhog.
Beside her, Ralphie seemed oblivious to the drop in temperature. DA's ramblings about Groundhog Day had his mind racing as well, though he wasn't sure he understood exactly why. Was Ferbruary 2nd really so significant to this town? "Okay, but real life doesn't repeat itself over and over. Do we really need to think so much about patterns or fresh starts? Things just… Happen. Right?"
"Oh, Ralphie…" DA clicked her tongue. "I think you'd be surprised to find just how often history repeats itself."
"What do you mean?"
February 2, 2016
Forest Path
12:51 P.M.
"Do you guys have any idea where we are?" Carlos asked, glancing around the woods. The forest was bright and peaceful, yet despite the light mood, he couldn't deny the foreboding sense of déjà vu that was coming over him. Looking back at his friends, both Arnold and Phoebe shook their heads. "Great…" he muttered to himself.
"Are we sure Phyllis is even missing anymore?" Arnold groaned, sitting down on a nearby rock, winded from the lengthy hike. He wasn't a big fan of hiking at the best of times, and bundled up in his thick parka and heavy boots, now was far from the ideal day for a stroll in the woods.
Carlos shrugged, sitting down beside Arnold. "I haven't seen anyone else for a long time. Maybe someone found her and they all went home."
Frowning, Phoebe looked around the path. "It's so quiet up here…" she mused softly. The birdsong that she'd been admiring moments ago had all but disappeared, making the woods seem eerie despite the shining sun and expansive blue sky.
"That's probably because we're somewhere in the middle of the woods," Arnold responded half-heartedly.
"Maybe…" Phoebe wandered over to a patch of nearby trees and peeked in. "Something doesn't feel right, though… Maybe we should leave…"
"Too late!" Suddenly, the three were grabbed by various college-aged students, each more menacing than the last. A tall boy, the leader, strolled out from the woods. "You might want to come with us."
February 2, 2016
Street
12:53 P.M.
Ralphie jammed his frozen hands in his pockets. He was quickly losing patience with this search, and DA's vague, ominous remarks were hardly helping the matter. "Look, the only pattern I'm looking to break is my stomach growling. I'm starving!"
DA chuckled at the comment. She hadn't really expected Ralphie to take her musings to heart; it was good to know that some things would always remain the same. "I guess our lunch did get cut short, huh? Bucky's is nearby, if you want to stop in and get something."
"Heck yeah!" Ralphie cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "Man, I can't even remember the last time I had a Bucky's burger…"
"Probably because they're disgusting…"
Ralphie playfully shoved the blonde as they turned in the direction of the fast-food restaurant. "You just don't appreciate fine cuisine."
"Sure, that's what it is."
Both laughed at the remark, spirits high at the promise of escaping the cold soon. Even if DA was no fan of the restaurant, she couldn't deny the allure of a reliable heating system after wandering the roads of Walkerville for so long. Why did going along with the crazy have to mean freezing in the insufferable winter chill?
Oh well. Just a few more minutes walking, and she'd be able to feel her face once again. Until then, at least the upbeat conversation could keep her warm.
February 2, 2016
Dungeon
1:00 P.M.
A loud clanging rang out as a metal gate was slammed shut. Outside the cell, a burly 20-year old locked the door carefully, making sure to test that it was properly shut. "Community College Rob doesn't like trespassers in his woods," the boy explained, a smirk on his face. "See, we're gonna be the ones to find Phyllis, ya hear? Then town hall is gonna give us the reward!"
Arnold dusted himself off, groaning as he moved his newly sore limbs. "There is no reward! We're just searching for Phyllis out of the goodness of our hearts!"
"We'll see about that," the boy spat harshly. "Once we get our hands on that gerbil, people will be begging us to hand her over!"
The boy laughed to himself as he strolled out of the dungeon, leaving the three friends each trapped in a cell of their own. Phoebe crossed her arms. "Phyllis is a groundhog," she murmured bitterly, not that the boy could hear her any longer. She sighed and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I never thought we'd be stuck here again."
"Tell me about it," Carlos replied, tugging violently at the solid bars. Though his cell door jangled from the force, the gate refused to give way. He bent down to investigate the lock mechanism. "Arnold, give me your glasses."
Arnold glared in the direction of Carlos's voice. "Absolutely not! Don't think I've forgotten what happened last time!"
"Do you want to escape or not?"
"You're not getting my glasses! End of story!" Arnold sat on the hard stone floor firmly. He had no intention of repeating his mistakes from Freshman year, not even if it meant he and his friends would freeze to death in the cell. Too many glasses had been lost to Carlos's antics over the years – never again would he let himself be the victim of the boy's inventive, if destructive, mind.
Carlos groaned and kicked at the cell door. "Have it your way," he muttered with a frown. God, he hated this stupid dungeon.
February 2, 2016
Walkerville Mall
1:00 P.M.
Keesha smirked as Wanda emerged from yet another dressing room, arms piled with an assortment of fabrics and patterns. "Are you sure you're searching for Phyllis in there?" she teased knowingly.
Wanda beamed at her friend. "I'm multi-tasking," she retorted, sticking out her tongue. "You're just jealous you didn't think of it first."
"Right."
Tim shook his head at the pair with amusement. "You can keep checking the fitting room, Wan, but I think I'm going to search the rest of the mall. You know, just in case she's not in any of the same three stalls."
"Don't go!" Wanda grabbed Tim's arm, dropping her piles of clothing in the process. "Come on, we're hanging out! Besides, I saw the sickest jacket in the back that you've got to try on!"
Tim raised a brow. "I didn't think you liked shopping with me," he laughed. "I'm not exactly the pinnacle of fashion."
Wanda shrugged. "I forgot how much I liked playing dress up with you. And hey, if you're going to be living in LA, you're going to need to define your brand. It's part of the musician lifestyle, you know."
"She's not wrong," Keesha conceded, eyeing Tim. "Wearing the same three sweaters on repeat is hardly going to make you the talk of the town."
Tim frowned. "So, what? You think I should reinvent myself again? Try something edgier?"
"It's up to you." Keesha put up her arms defensively – as much as she like offering her input, she'd take no responsibility if Tim ended up ruining his wardrobe. "But it can't hurt. Competition is stiff, right?"
Wanda smirked and leaned up against Tim. "And if Janet's around, that won't be the only thing stiff. Am I right?"
Shoving the girl away, Tim glanced around the expansive clothing store. "I don't know," he sighed, taking in the variety of unfamiliar trends. "I guess I could try some things on. But I'm not going to totally reinvent myself, okay?"
Wanda perked up and grabbed Tim by the arm. "This is going to be great!" She tugged the boy into the depths of the store, making the boy wonder if he should already be regretting his decision. An excited Wanda was rarely a good sign.
But maybe he had a point. LA would be a fresh start for him; when would be better to try out a new look? Suddenly, Tim wasn't sure how prepared he was for the vicious music scene after all.
February 2, 2016
Street
1:04 P.M.
"Oh, right. That's why I don't eat at Bucky's anymore: I burnt it down."
Tentatively, DA toed a charred piece of wood lying on the sidewalk. "You did this?"
"Well, me and Arnold." Noticing the concerned look DA was shooting him, Ralphie rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. "It was an accident."
"And yet you did a remarkably thorough job."
"We used a lot of oil." Ralphie's stomach grumbled loudly, interrupting his weak defense of the events of the previous Valentine's Day. "This is awful! I really had my heart set on a Bucky's burger."
DA took a final amazed look at the pile of ash and debris before turning back to her friend. "Look, there's a McDonald's just across the road. You can get some food there."
"It's not Bucky's…"
"It's also not been burnt to the ground."
"Touché."
The pair trudged across the small, empty road together, Ralphie's spirit's lifting as they approached the iconic golden arches. Unfortunately, his excitement was to be short-lived – one tug at a prominent set of double doors was enough to prove that the restaurant was locked.
Ralphie pressed his face up to the glass, searching for signs of life inside the dark building. "What the-"
DA tapped him on the shoulder. He peered back at the blonde, and she gestured towards the handwritten sign hastily taped to the door: "Closed for Groundhog Hunt".
Dismayed, Ralphie leaned against the glass pane and slid to the ground. "What have I done to deserve such torment? Why me?"
"You burnt down a restaurant," DA reminded harshly.
Ralphie sighed. "Yeah, but… Just the one."
DA smirked at the comment. "Sorry, Ralphie, but I think you're going to have to skip lunch for today."
"But what happened to breaking cycles?"
DA raised a brow. "What does this have anything to do with-"
"Freshman year, DA." Ralphie stood up tall, his brow furrowed in his intense focus. "We failed to track down my lunch Freshman year."
"Because you'd already eaten it-"
Ralphie placed a finger over her lips. "Irrelevant. We failed back then – are you really suggesting we succumb to our past failures? Should we not strive for a better, brighter tomorrow?"
DA shoved his hand away from her face. "I'll help if you can define the word succumb."
He groaned. "Don't do this to me, DA, you know I can't. I'm so hungry!"
"And what exactly do you want me to do about that?" DA crossed her arms. She knew she would probably regret asking the question, but honestly – did she have anything more important to worry about at the moment? Ralphie's hunger was hardly a topic of interest for her, but she was also growing bored of the endless Groundhog search. What did she have to lose?
"Just help me find a burger for lunch?"
DA rolled her eyes. "Fine. But you owe me."
"Thank you!" Ralphie pulled the girl into a tight hug, and in seconds DA was spluttering for air. Why did Ralphie have to care so much about his burgers?
February 2, 2016
Dungeon
1:22 P.M.
A soft snap rang out around the dungeon, followed by another round of quiet cursing from Carlos as he threw the broken twig to the ground. "It's no use," he frowned, tugging at the secure gate again. "I can't get the lock."
"That was the last stick?" Phoebe asked, watching from across the hall with concern.
Carlos nodded. "Unless someone wants to donate a stronger lockpick, we're not getting out of here any time soon."
Arnold crossed his arms. Carlos's pointed words were obviously being thrown in his direction, and he didn't appreciate the frustration in the boy's tone. "Sorry I won't let you destroy my glasses again," he shot back, exasperated. Seriously, why did everyone assume he was fine letting them walk all over him and his belongings?
"I'm just saying, I could get us out of here in two seconds if-"
"It's okay, Arnold," Phoebe cut in, silencing Carlos at once. "They can't keep us in here forever. You shouldn't have to sacrifice your glasses for us."
"Thank you," Arnold breathed, offering his girlfriend a gentle smile. Leave it to Phoebe to calm him down. "And in any case, I'd rather be stuck here together than leave anyone behind. Abandoning you in that stupid snowball fight was a mistake."
Carlos covered his ears. "Stop being so mushy!" He complained, squeezing his eyes shut. "There are innocent Carlos's in the room!"
Arnold and Phoebe blushed. "Sorry, Carlos," they shot back in unison, grinning at one another sweetly. As uncomfortable as the stone cells were, it was a relief to be stuck inside with one another.
And Carlos, of course. Between his shouts and exaggerated gagging, it was impossible to forget about Carlos.
February 2, 2016
Walkerville Mall
1:25 P.M.
Tim frowned as gazed at his reflection in the fitting room mirror. Wanda and Keesha had wasted no time collecting an assortment of bold, unusual outfits for the boy to try on, and while each certainly had its own unique appeal, he didn't really feel passionate about any of the looks. He knew the LA fashion scene was extravagant and forward, but truth be told, Tim liked his own, comfortable clothing. He might not be the most well-dressed guy in town, but his tried-and-true basics were as much a part of him as his music. Could he really change himself to suit the big city?
DA would chastise him for even having this thought. She would tell him that he needed to be true to his own style and that, if other people didn't like it, that would be too bad for them. And she was right, wasn't she? Tim didn't want to change his wardrobe, and he shouldn't have to in order to perform.
Still, the idea of making a fresh start held an appeal Tim couldn't deny. He didn't want to reinvent himself, not really, but moving to LA was an occasion worth marking. So, maybe he wouldn't give up his small-town sensibilities before moving. In fact, it occurred to Tim that what he really wanted, more than new clothes or a new look, was a reminder of what mattered most to him – his home.
Tim eyed the bare skin on his arm. Years ago, he'd wanted to tattoo himself to reinvent himself as a rebellious, troublesome child. And while his intention had been bad, all this time later, he still admired the artistic expression in the art of adorning the skin. DA would slap him if he let the girls convince him to get a tattoo. But what if he got one, not to piss off his parents or impress a big-shot producer, but because it was something he genuinely wanted?
He quickly changed back into his own, familiar clothes, content to have at last made up his mind. He was 18, and optimistic, and standing at the edge of a massive change. If he couldn't do something for himself now, when could he ever? This is what he would really need when he got to LA – not some fancy outfit, but a testament to the place and the people who had shaped him. And no one, not even the image of DA criticizing him, would change his mind about that.
February 2, 2016
Bucky's, East Side
1:43 P.M.
As Ralphie and DA approached the front entrance of Bucky's on the far end of Walkerville, Ralphie held his breath in anticipation. To his relief, when he tugged at the front entrance of the building, the heavy door swung open. The comforting scent of salty French fries and sizzling patties reached his nose, making his stomach growl louder than ever before, and he entered the building in giddy excitement. DA shook her head at his unrestrained enthusiasm but said nothing as they took their place in line.
"I forgot about this Bucky's," Ralphie commented, greedily eyeing the menu above the counter. "I was all ready to give up after that Burger King and Wendy's were both closed."
DA pressed her lips together. "Yeah, who would've thought buying lunch would prove to be such a challenge?" She decided not to mention that, had she known the trouble this would cause her, she probably wouldn't have agreed to help Ralphie in the first place.
"But it's all going to be worth it," Ralphie replied, rubbing his hands together as they stepped up to the counter. "1 Bucky Burger combo, extra Bucky sauce please!"
"I don't even want to know what Bucky sauce is," DA commented under her breath.
The gangly boy behind the cash register didn't acknowledge DA's sarcasm though, instead just sniffing and typing on the computer before him. "Um, sir, just so you know, we're out of pickles for our burgers today."
Ralphie's grin dropped. "No pickles?"
"You'll be fine," DA quickly reassured, resting a hand on his shoulders. "You don't need pickles."
"I need pickles."
"You don't need pickles."
Ralphie sighed. "Okay… Fine. One burger without pickles, then."
The boy cleared his throat. "We also just ran out of ketchup, sir."
Ralphie turned to DA, his eyes wide. The blonde pat his shoulder calmly. "It's fine, Ralphie."
"And we're out of buns."
"I-"
"And patties."
Ralphie glanced at DA hopefully. Dismally, she shook her head. "No, Ralphie, that's not fine."
His shoulders fell. "So… No burger?"
"No burger."
As Ralphie sulked out of the restaurant, DA turned to the cashier, a quizzical expression on her face. "Why are you even open if you don't have any food?"
The cashier shrugged. "Company policy."
"Right…"
DA followed Ralphie out the door. Outside, the boy had fallen onto the sidewalk and currently lay face down on the concrete. DA gingerly approached him. "Sorry about that, Ralphie. I know you were looking forward to your burger…"
Ralphie moaned but said nothing. DA brushed a stray piece of hair from her face. "You know, life doesn't always wrap up as neatly as our little detective story Freshman year. Sometimes… Sometimes, there's just no good reason why you can't have a burger for lunch."
"Then real-life sucks!"
"Pretty much." DA extended a hand to her friend. "Do you want to get back to searching for Phyllis? It might get your mind off of your stomach."
Ralphie groaned as he excepted the hand. DA pulled him to his feet. "I guess it's better than nothing," he murmured sadly. This was one life lesson he wished he never had to learn.
February 2, 2016
Dungeon
2:39 P.M.
Carlos stepped back from his handiwork. On the wall in his cell, he'd managed to carve his initials using his handy pocketknife with equal amounts of determination and hardheadedness. Despite Arnold and Phoebe occasionally complaining about the grating noise the action cause, Carlos was proud of his masterpiece, rough edges and all. Unfortunately, the work didn't take as much time as he had hoped.
He fell against the opposite wall with a heavy sigh. "I'm so bored," he whined as he tossed a rogue stone against the wall.
"So, you've mentioned," Arnold replied shortly. He's was growing fed up of the trio's entrapment, and as nice as it was to have the time together, he was beginning to reconsider his harsh stance on protecting his glasses. By the look of things, none of them would be escaping their cells anytime soon.
Phoebe felt bad for the two boys across the hall. She was bored as well, of course, and would much rather be searching for Phyllis than twiddling her thumbs, but she especially hated seeing their own dwindling hope. An idea popped into her head. "Do you guys want to hear about how I escaped Rob during the snowball fight?"
Arnold and Carlos both perked up at the suggestion. Anything to break the boredom was a welcome change of pace. So, the three passed the time in their cells sharing stories with one another, laughing about their past mistakes and shortcomings and remembering all the fun adventures they'd once been on. And while the cells were still cramped and cold, the warmth of their stories made the minutes fly by.
No matter how boring the dungeon might have been, it truly was better to be trapped inside together.
February 2, 2016
Tattoo Parlor
3:07 P.M.
"Dang, that's actually really sweet," Wanda crooned, eyeing the intricate ink pattern that adorned Tim's arm. While the stylized lizard would be strange choice to most, the small letters reading "Take chances, make mistakes, get messy," that curved around the tail were everything that Tim could have hoped for. And, sure enough, Wanda and Keesha seemed more than impressed with the handiwork.
"I have to hand it to you," Keesha commented, peering closely at the design. "I thought you were crazy to get a Liz tattoo, but…
"It's nice, right?" Tim admired the ink in the mirror. If anything defined Walkerville in his eyes, it has to be the iconic adventures that brought he and his closest friends together. He couldn't have chosen a better image for his very first tattoo.
Wanda grinned wildly. "DA's gonna freak."
Tim shrugged. "I didn't do it for her."
He didn't do it for anyone else. No, the best thing about his new tattoo was that, from beginning to end, the entire decision had been for himself. He was glad he hadn't rushed into getting one as a child, but now, he wouldn't have had it any other way.
February 2, 2016
Street
3:13 P.M.
"We're never going to find that stupid animal," Ralphie muttered, kicking at a stone on the sidewalk.
DA nodded tiredly. Despite their long, long search, Ralphie and DA had nothing to show for their extreme effort, and the search was beginning to take its toll. "Let's just call it a day," DA suggested.
Ralphie nodded. The two turned to return home before his arm shot out before her. "Holy crap…"
DA's eyes went wide. Sitting before them, in the middle of the sidewalk, a large, passive groundhog eyed the pair down. "Phyllis…" She mused softly, taking care not to scare the creature.
"Not that…" Ralphie pointed, and DA could see in the creature's small paws, it held the last few bites of the last remaining burger in town. Ralphie turned to her intensely.
"DA?"
"Yes, Ralphie?"
"Let's go get us some groundhog."