As they arrived at the storage area, Diane parked the truck just outside. She eyed the closed rolling steel door and said, "Oh, god... am I really too early?" She contemplated calling the guard, hoping they could open it up for her.
While Diane hesitated, Mark found himself lost in thought, an indescribable feeling slowly growing inside him—a strange sense of familiarity wrapped in mystery.
Before Diane could pull out her phone to make the call, they suddenly heard a rattling, chain-like sound. The door creaked, slowly rising like a heavy curtain being lifted.
The metal groaned until it was fully open, revealing a lean teenager with half-combed brown hair, squinting at them through the light.
"Finally, some fresh air," the young man muttered. He wore a teal T-shirt and dark shorts, holding a remote with a single big red button at its center, attached to a wire leading to the wall.
He blinked a few times, realizing who was standing there. "Oh, hey, Miss Diane. I thought the delivery was scheduled for the afternoon?" His brow furrowed in confusion.
Diane smiled, relieved to see someone familiar. "Hey there, Kevin! Yeah, it was supposed to be later, but I've got something to do this afternoon, so I asked Mrs. Smith if I could drop it off early. She said it was fine."
Kevin scratched his head. "Huh, that's weird. Nobody told us. Maybe she forgot to inform the staff."
"Makes sense," Diane nodded. "That's probably why the door was closed. I messaged Mrs. Smith pretty late last night, so maybe it slipped her mind."
Kevin shrugged. "I guess so. Anyway, since you're here, let's start unloading." He turned to help but then stopped. "Oh, right! I almost forgot—I need to throw out some garbage, or else Annie will chew me out again." He rolled his eyes.
"Don't worry about it," Diane chuckled. "We've got it covered. Right, Mark?"
Mark nodded, "Yeah, we got this."
Kevin gave Mark a quick nod before turning back to the pile of trash bags on a pushcart. He positioned himself behind it, slightly struggling to get it moving. "Need a hand?" Mark offered.
Kevin shook his head with a determined grin. "Nah, I got it. If my gym buddies hear I needed help moving garbage, I'll never live it down. They'll be like, 'Kevin, dude, are you really out here getting saved by strangers to just throw the trash? We taught you better!'"
Mark laughed. "Yeah, can't have that. Wouldn't want to tarnish your reputation."
"Exactly! It's a delicate balance," Kevin said with mock seriousness, straining to push the heavy cart. "One minute, you're bench-pressing with the squad. Next, you're the 'trash guy' who can't handle a pushcart. It's a slippery slope, man."
Mark shook his head, amused. "Sounds like tough love."
Kevin nodded sagely. "Oh yeah, brutal. But, you know, that's the price of greatness."
Mark chuckled and stepped back, letting Kevin have his moment. "Well, good luck with that. I'll stick to crates."
Turning their attention back to the truck, Mark saw the dozen or so plastic crates neatly stacked in the back. "You sure you wanna help with these?" he asked skeptically. "They look pretty heavy."
Diane shot him a playful side-eye. "What, you think I'm too weak to lift a crate? Come on, I've been doing this for years." She flexed her arm, but the bulge in her bicep was, well, modest at best.
Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Alright, prove it. Let's see you lift one."
Diane, always up for a challenge, rolled up her sleeves with exaggerated flair. "Watch and learn," she smirked.
As she positioned herself to lift one of the crates, the weight shifted unexpectedly, causing her to lean slightly forward. The edge of the crate pressed firmly against her chest, squeezing her figure in a way that caught Mark's attention. He couldn't help but notice how her breasts were pushed together, accentuating her curves.
Mark's eyes widened, and his heart raced. What the hell? Focus! he scolded himself, feeling a rush of embarrassment. He knew Diane was working hard, yet he found himself distracted by her figure. It felt wrong to be looking at her like that, especially since she was helping him.
Completely unaware of the effect she was having on him, Diane finally set the crate down with a triumphant smile. "See? Easy."
Mark quickly turned his gaze away, trying to shake off the moment. "Yeah, sure... it was good," he muttered, mentally kicking himself for letting his thoughts drift. "Get it together, Mark! She's your friend, and she's helping you out, man. Get a grip."
"Told ya. Not all women are weak, you know," she added smugly, wiping a bit of sweat from her forehead.
"Right, right," he agreed, raising his hands in surrender. "Since I was clearly wrong, let's get started."
Just as they were about to grab the next crate, Kevin returned with a blue push cart. "Sorry, took longer than I thought. I was looking for Mr. Glenn to help us out, but he wasn't in the janitor's room."
Diane waved it off. "It's fine, Kevin. Mark and I have got it." She glanced at the sweating teen, feeling a bit guilty for making him rush.
Kevin, determined not to be left out, protested, "No, please! It's my job as a scholar to help out, especially when these ingredients are going to the cafeteria. I'm assigned there today."
Diane sighed, glancing at Mark for his opinion. He nodded, knowing Kevin meant well. "Alright," she relented. "But you're lifting them with Mark, not by yourself."
"Why? I can handle it," Mark said, easily hoisting a crate onto the cart with minimal effort.
Diane and Kevin both stared, wide-eyed. Kevin's jaw nearly dropped. "Dude... you're a beast! How'd you get that strong?"
Mark thought, This body is really something else. If it was my previous body, I don't know if I could lift it that easily.
Kevin's admiration lingered longer than expected, and Mark felt a bit uncomfortable under Kevin's intense gaze. Why is he looking at me like that? Is this guy gay or something? he wondered, but Kevin, still oblivious to the vibe he was giving off, said, "Man, I wanna be that strong. My gym buddies would be so proud."
Mark forced a grin, still feeling a bit weird. "It's just normal strength. It's not a big deal."
Kevin was about to ask Mark for his workout routine, but Diane clapped her hands. "Alright, enough chatting. We've got work to do. And Kevin, I don't think you get paid to stand around."
Kevin grinned. "But I'm a working scholar, remember? We don't get paid."
Mark joined in the banter, "And what do we get paid in, then?"
Kevin snorted. "You'll probably be paid with some scolding and a whole lot of heavy lifting."
Mark laughed at that comment, and the weird vibe Kevin was giving faded from his mind.
Diane rolled her eyes. "Let's just finish this up. We still have to drop off that delivery at Tony's pizzeria."
"Oh right," Mark said, "Tony's pizzeria. Almost forgot."
Kevin, overhearing that, said, "The place where legendary pizzas are made."
Mark raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Kevin replied, "Wait, what? You don't know Tony's? Come on, were you living under a rock? Tony's greatness is known all over town!"
Mark started, "Well, I am not—"
Diane interrupted, her expression deadpan. "Are we unloading these crates, or are we just going to talk about Tony's pizza?"
The two exchanged quick glances and replied, "Yes, we'll get to it right away."
They got back to unloading, stacking the crates onto the cart, with Kevin pushing them to the kitchen storage. Though the task was mundane, the easy banter between them made the time fly by.
Disclaimer:
The characters, settings, and elements in this fanfiction are the intellectual property of their respective owners. New Life, New Saga is inspired by Summertime Saga, which is owned by Kompas Productions. This fanfiction is created purely for fun and non-commercial purposes, and I do not claim any ownership of the original works. All rights to the original material belong to their creators. If you appreciate my work and would like to support my writing, consider making a donation on my Patreon. Thank you for your support and for reading!