"Cruel Cruel Summer" by Bananarama

"Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" by Green Day

"Pass in Time" by Beth Orton

"Ready to Go" by Republica

"Connection" by Elastica

"I Try" by Macy Gray

"This Year" by Mountain Goats

Cruel, Cruel Summer

By

Michael Walker

"My god, this town is a shitshow… Mayor Wilkins vanished, the high school principal disappeared–"

"I heard–"

"I heard it, too, Howard, and I better not hear it again from you. The high school's reputation is in the toilet, plus all the repairs that need to be made."

"The budget–"

"I know it's gonna be a kick in the nuts for the budget, Howard. We just spackled over everything long enough to get through graduation, but this summer's gonna be a ball-buster."

"And City Hall–"

"Christ, Howard, did you think I'd forgotten City Hall? Looks like goddamn Al Qaeda set off a bomb."

"Have we explored that angle?"

"Will you quit playin' mumble-peg and just say what you mean, Howard?"

"Well, our first explanation for the school was vandalism… but what if we claim that City Hall and the school were connected? What if Sunnydale was the target of a terrorist attack?"

"Now, that, that's interesting, Howard. Lemme see… we did have a lot of corpses around–"

"Most of which were very strange."

"Even better. Yeah, we can work with that… terrorists attacked Sunnydale High School and City Hall… set off car bombs, both places..."

"There were cars involved."

"Damn right there were. Let's see… that could stop a lot of the public's questions right there."

"But what was the motive, sir?"

"Doesn't matter. Godless terrorists, hate our freedoms, want us to live in fear… that'll go down smooth with Joe and Jane Citizen. Also lets us tap into some federal funding for repairs, yeah, no way a funding request gets turned down with an election next year. Good work, Howard. Sometimes I remember why we keep you around."

"She'll pay. It won't be enough, couldn't be enough, but it's all I can do. We need more bodies."

"How do we do that? We're… not exactly popular at the moment."

"I know, but there will always be loners and malcontents. We just need to bring in enough short-timers to do this one thing, then we'll be gone."

"Why do you think they'll come here?"

"It's like real estate… location, location, location."

The sun streamed down, bleaching the concrete apron white, and throwing piercing sparkles off the rippling blue water. The deep thud and splash of a body hitting the water was followed by a chorus of screeches and the splatter of drops hitting a hard surface. Cordelia blew her whistle. "No cannonballs!" she barked, although her posture atop the lifeguard stand belied her command. It appeared that her biggest concern was that breaking the pool's rules would force her to leave the shadow of the lifeguard stand's umbrella. She wore the official red swimsuit with white piping of the Sunnydale City Pool.

"Hey, Cordy." Buffy shaded her eyes with her hands and squinted up into the sun. The Slayer wore a navy blue racerback one-piece with sky-blue trim. Willow stood beside her, wearing a two-piece green suit with a matching fuzzy bucket hat. A dark puddle formed around Buffy's feet; Willow's flip-flops remained on resolutely dry cement.

Cordelia looked down from her high perch. "Nice suit."

Buffy glanced down. "Thanks." Her wet hair was slicked straight back.

"One piece because of the…" Cordelia made a diagonal gesture across her abdomen.

"Yeah," Buffy said. "The scars are still there. Fading, but still there."

"Bummer." Cordelia pointed her chin at Willow. "I like the hat."

"Thanks. I'm still a little sensitive about my hair. Plus the whole 'I can sunburn under a 40-watt bulb' thing."

"Uh-huh. Hey!" Cordelia yelled at a skinny middle-school boy in Jamz. "What's the rule about running? Stop it!"

"Wow," Buffy said. "You're really ruling with an iron fist."

"Is it empowering to be among the employed?" Willow said. "To harvest the fruits of your labor?"

Cordelia stared at the redhead, then scoffed. "Did you wait too long to put on your hat? When she agreed to manage the pool, I was shanghaied, just like one of those sailors in…"

"Shanghai?" Buffy filled in brightly as she looked around at the little kids in the wading pool, the middle schoolers splashing each other in the first conflicted throes of attraction, the high schoolers being very intentionally cool, and the group of women, mothers of the wading pool kids and middle schoolers by their look, reclining under a phalanx of beach umbrellas. "C'mon, it doesn't look that hard."

Cordelia shook her head. "Honestly, there are only two rules: don't run and don't pee in the pool. How hard is that?"

"Given how difficult it seems to be to enforce the first one…" Buffy arched an eyebrow as her voice trailed away.

"I don't even want to think about it." Cordelia leaned down and lowered her voice. "But you wouldn't believe how much chlorine this place goes through."

"Well, there goes my desire to get in the pool." Willow made a yuck face.

"Good call." Cordelia looked at Buffy. "You might want to make sure you shower really well before you leave."

Buffy nodded. "Point taken. Hey, we were wondering if you were up for a girls' movie night?"

Cordelia blew her whistle and pointed at an offender. "Theater or video?"

"We were thinking of going upscale and hitting the theater," Buffy replied.

"What are you going to see?"

"There's the new Star Wars," Willow said.

"No, squared. I've had to listen to dorks obsess for a week. I'm already tired of it and I haven't seen it yet."

Buffy put her hands on her hips. "Black Mask is showing at the U. Hong Kong, martial arts, college atmosphere?"

"I don't feel like reading subtitles." Cordelia scanned the crowd.

"Wellllllll." Willow drew the word out to great length. "Notting Hill is opening tonight."

Cordelia's posture visibly straightened. "Julia Roberts?"

"And Hugh Grant." Willow positively bubbled.

"Are we… are we good with Hugh Grant again?" Buffy looked back and forth between her friends, her arms crossed.

"It's not going to be like Four Weddings and a Funeral, is it?" Cordelia frowned. "I don't need anyone sneaking up and trying to be profound on me."

"Or ironically quoting the Partridge Family," Willow said.

"Or, worse, sincerely quoting them." Cordelia shuddered.

Buffy squinted into the sun. "So, you in?"

Cordelia looked away over the pool and shrugged. "I guess."

"Cool. What time do you want to meet at the theater?" Buffy shifted her weight from one foot to the other; the concrete was getting uncomfortably warm.

"I'm here 'til four-thirty, so… go home, wash and condition… Is there a seven o'clock show?"

Buffy nodded, which was nice, since her neck was getting stiff from looking up. "Almost certainly," she said.

"Okay, I'll meet you for the seven o'clock show." Cordelia crossed her legs and bounced one foot. The polish on her toenails was an exact match for her suit.

"See you there," Buffy said.

"Be sure to give the boys plenty of time to get in the water before you leave." Willow giggled.

Cordelia turned her black sunglasses on the redhead. "You kiss your mom with that pottymouth?"

Willow's crooked grin sparkled. "Nope."

Cordelia waved a dismissive hand. "Go."

Buffy and Willow threaded their way through the crowd, Buffy's damp feet pitter-pattering and Willow's flip-flops slapping on the concrete. The babble of voices and splashing water washed over them until they stepped into the cool shadow of the concession area. Matti Hollis leaned on the counter. She wore red swimsuit, the twin of Cordelia's, under white gym shorts with red piping.

"Hey, Ms. Hollis, how's your arm?" Willow asked.

Matti looked at her right arm. The dressing was still there, although noticeably smaller than it had been a few weeks ago when a knife had passed through her arm and pinned her to the fender of her late partner's Ford Expedition. "It's starting to look normal, but I still couldn't punch through a wet paper bag with it."

"Do you have to do that often? Maybe when you're defending the snack bar?" Buffy tipped her head forward, eyebrows raised.

Matti stuck her tongue in her lower lip. "You know, you're a card, Summers. Two cards actually. A jack, ace."

Buffy looked faux-shocked. "Ms. Hollis, language."

"You're not in high school any more, Buffy." Matti looked at Willow. "Doesn't look like you utilized the pool."

"Oh, I don't get in the water much anyway," Willow said, holding up her hands. "Then Cordelia implied that there might be a lot of…" she leaned forward and whispered, "peeing in the pool."

Matti nodded. "You would not believe the budget for chlorine." She shrugged and winced slightly. "But, where else are you gonna swim?"

"Um, this big thing, the ocean… you may have heard of it." Buffy pointed to the west. "Right over there."

"Please." Matti waved her left hand. "If you're worried about nasty stuff in the water, stay out of the ocean, plus its cold, and here you're going to be guaranteed a critical mass of members of the opposite sex."

"Or maybe the same sex," Willow said.

"True." Matti smiled. "I wouldn't want to turn away any potential customer." A couple of middle school girls stepped up to the counter and ordered Reese's Pieces and Cokes. Willow shuddered as Matti handed over the candy and sodas and took their money. The girls headed back into the sunlight, chattering wildly. Cordelia's whistle blew in the background.

"Well," Buffy said, "I'm gonna go run through the shower. Cordelia's going to the movies with us tonight."

"Good." Matti leaned her hips against the counter. "She hangs around the house too much. What are you going to see?"

"Notting Hill," Willow said.

"Ugh. Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant in a rom-com? Hmmm… let me take a wild guess… They'll end up together."

"It's like you're clairvoyant," Buffy said. "Most likely it's straight C material, but I won't hate myself for watching it…probably."

"There'll be some good outfits," Willow said.

"The Mummy's still playing," Matti said as she bent down to look over the rack of candy bars.

"Fast 'no' on that," Buffy said. "A little too close to home." She stepped into the shower room.

Willow shook her head. "Poor Ampata."

Matti straightened up. "Well, it's your time and your life. Have a good time."

"Thanks." Willow smiled and waved. "Have a good day."

Matti fixed the girl with a level look. "Are you being a smartass?"

Willow looked at the clock on the wall and did a nervous little jig. "It's almost seven," she said. "You'll notice, I'm trying to keep the whining out of my voice."

"And we're all proud of you. Relax, Will. There'll be fifteen minutes of trailers." Buffy scanned the theater's entry doors. The Slayer wore a simple long-sleeved white poplin button-front shirt with the cuffs rolled, cropped pants (black with a muted floral pattern), and her trusty white canvas Keds. Her hair was loose and her only accessories were a mid-weight gold chain and a matching bangle on her left wrist. Willow wore a color-blocked rugby shirt and her favorite jeans, the ones with the daisy applique along one leg. And her purple bucket hat.

"I know," the redhead said, "but I have this thing about punctuality." She gnawed on her lip and fretted. 'That Don't Impress Me Much' played over the theater's speakers.

"Hey," Buffy said, pointing up, "did you know she's Canadian?"

"Really?" Willow said. "Which province?"

Buffy was caught open-mouthed. "Uh… one of them?"

"Okay, I'm not late." Cordelia swept up to them. The brunette wore a red camp shirt over a black tank top and black jeans with red flats. "It's officially four minutes until seven." She looked at Willow and pointed at the hat. "Why are you wearing that in here?"

"You know," Willow whispered. "My hair."

"Oh, come on," Cordelia said. "Let me see."

Willow shook her head. "I don't want to."

Cordelia put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. "Well, I'm not buying a ticket until you do, so…" She made a 'come on' gesture with her hand. Willow fidgeted and fussed, but Cordelia was unmoved. Finally, the redhead raised her hands and lifted the hat. Her hair was cut in a messy bob with a crooked part and multiple layers.

"Is that to hide the…" Cordelia made a vague gesture toward her forehead. Willow nodded, and Cordelia frowned in appraisal. "Well, it's doing that." She shrugged. "Pretty good choice."

Willow's face brightened. "You think so?"

Cordelia scowled. "No… I'm well-known for not saying what I feel."

"Sorry, and thanks."

Cordelia waved her away. "Can we get tickets? You're going to make us late."

Rupert Giles surveyed the library. There was a gaping hole where the entry doors had been, and the floor tiles had been stripped off a good ten feet inside the room. The door to his office had been removed, and through the opening he could see his books, packed in sealed boxes. He sighed and went in, picking up the top box and taking it out of the room. He returned and picked up another, repeating the process until all the boxes were stored in the Citroen's trunk. He looked around the room one more time, then turned out the lights.

The theater doors opened and the audience emptied into the lobby. Buffy, Cordelia, and Willow blended into the flow until it dumped out in the mall proper.

"Well," Cordelia said, "I expected more."

"I can't believe that's the same guy who wrote Bean and The Tall Guy," Buffy said, frowning.

"He did Four Weddings, too" Cordelia replied, crossing her arms. "Should've seen the sap rising. You know what else those two movies have in common? Hugh Grant."

Buffy scrunched her nose. "Maybe we shouldn't be good with Hugh Grant again."

Willow shook her head sadly. "The outfits weren't even that special."

"True," Cordelia said. "Like, the most famous movie star in the world, in twin sets? Except the beret." Cordelia pointed at WIllow. "The beret was…" She groped for words and finally decided on "It was."

"That dialogue... over-stylized, much? Come on, 'my relatively inexperienced heart would, I fear, not recover'... " Buffy's upper lip curled. "Who talks like that?"

"The whole 'I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy'?" Cordelia scoffed in disgust. "Gagtastic."

"But Hugh Grant's stammer, that was, that was cute." Willow held out a hand, palm up, like a beggar pleading for coin.

Cordelia's eyes widened in judgment. "I'd stammer, too, if I had to try and say those lines with a straight face. I almost retched listening to them. And she falls for a guy who runs a bookstore? A used bookstore at that."

The Slayer cast a sly eye at the cheerleader. "Barnes and Noble thank you for your endorsement." The critique faded into silence, and all three girls took a long, slow breath, then Buffy shifted her feet and said, "Let's be honest, it would have been five hundred percent better if Will's roommate just hadn't been named… Spike." A cone of gloom descended on the trio, isolating them from the hubbub of shoppers rushing from Yankee Candle to Penney's.

Willow nodded briefly. "It did bring the lighthearted down to zero."

"Hey, let's shake this," Buffy said. "You wanna get something to eat?" The three of them headed toward the food court. "Orange Julius?" Buffy asked.

"Too sticky," Cordelia replied.

"Cinnabon?" Willow suggested.

Buffy shook her head. "Not really in the mood for anything hubcap-sized." She squinted. "Is that girl waving?"

Willow and Cordelia followed her gaze and said "Casey" nearly simultaneously.

Buffy lightly smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Yeah, that's her. You guys want to try Hot Dog on a Stick?"

"Um, usually I don't make a big deal out of keeping kosher, but…" Willow grimaced.

Cordelia shook her head. "Casey said to never eat there."

"Okay, two rousing 'no's." Buffy looked around. "Should we just accept the inevitable and go get a pretzel?"

"Might as well," Willow said.

Cordelia glanced toward Casey Porter, who kept casting furtive looks toward them while waiting on a customer, then turned to Buffy. "Would you order me a sesame seed?"

"Any reason you can't order it yourself?" the Slayer replied.

"I'll… go pick up the drinks. The soda at Hot Dog on a Stick is pretty good."

"Why don't we just get our drinks at the pretzel stand?" Willow asked.

"I'll buy," Cordelia said, her voice chilly.

"I've heard good things about their soda," Willow said. "Get me a lemonade?"

"So, I put an Eminence speaker in yours and an old Vox blue I found at a pawnshop in mine." Trey Garcia stood with his left arm across his stomach, his right hand pointing at a pair of amps before coming up to rest on his chin.

Oz nodded. "Mmmmm-hmmmmm."

"Okay, I'll admit it, I'm clueless… about this." Xander hurried to be specific. "What's the deal?"

"New amps," Oz said.

"They don't look new to me," Xander said.

"Not new new, different though." Trey crouched and patted one of the black Tolex-covered boxes. "They're both Princeton Reverbs, this one's a '72." He laid hands on the other. "This one's a '75. They're silverfaces, so you can get 'em cheap."

"Well, gee, thanks, so… you've got two very old amps. Why?"

Oz looked up at Xander. The werewolf's hair was almost white today. "Princeton's a great amp, but they come with a ten-inch speaker. Turn 'em up too loud, the speaker can't handle it."

"And then they sound terrible," Trey said. "I mean, really, really bad, because the speaker just craps out, but… if you put a twelve inch speaker in 'em, they're awesome."

"Trey made new baffles and mounted speakers." Oz grabbed the handle of the '75 and, with some effort, lifted it.

"But you guys have amps already."

"Yeah, but they're way too big." Trey warmed to his subject. "I mean, physically, they're too big, you put our amps and the bass amp in the van, there's no room for anything else. These babies, though, they don't take up much room. Most clubs, they'll be plenty loud enough, and if they're not, I guarantee that club'll have a PA we can mic 'em through."

Xander nodded, a dazed look in his eyes. "Well, those were certainly words, English words even, and they were in some sort of order."

Oz crossed his arms. "What about Doug's rig?"

Trey nodded. "I've got a line on a sweet Hartke combo, I mean, it's basically brand-new, but the guy doesn't like it, he thinks the aluminum cone's too harsh. I think it just makes it tougher. We can turn down Doug's treble if we need to."

"Okay." Oz nodded. "Sounds good."

"It will." Trey grinned.

The trio pushed through the doors into the night air; the vapor lights in the parking lot threw wild, elongated shadows in all directions and cast garish highlights, washing out faces and distorting the colors of cars and clothing.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked Cordelia, who was making odd faces.

"Sesame seed's stuck in my teeth. I don't know why I keep ordering them, it always happens."

"That was a humanizing detail," Buffy said. "Well, I guess this is good night. Thanks for hanging out, Cordy."

"Um…" Cordelia reached into her pocket and held up a set of keys. "I got the 4Runner. You guys need a ride home?"

"You stupid, stupid girls." The Toyota reached the exit of the parking lot and turned right. "You're fat and lazy and careless, drunk on your own pride, feeling like you're invincible. I hate you, and I will destroy you."