What is there to do when the world is in lockdown than watch all your favourite movies and write about them? I knocked this out in one day. Posting in 3 parts to make it more managable. I hope you enjoy

Chapter 1

Frenchie heard a tap on the front window of the salon and looked up from placing the last roller in her client's hair. Her face spread into a wide grin and her squeal could be heard half way down the street. Temporarily abandoning her client, she raced through the door onto the street.

He was the last person she expected to show up at her place of work.

"Kenickie!" She flew into his arms, joyous at seeing the figure from her past "What are you doing here?"

"Hi Frenchie." Kenickie shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and looked down at the ground, embarrassed at Frenchie's overt display of affection. "I came to see my folks. My Pop's not doing so good."

Frenchie's usual beaming smile faltered and her brow furrowed, but her eyes were just as warm and friendly as ever. She touched his arm. He could feel the warmth of her hand on this cold morning through his leather jacket. "I'm sorry to hear that." She stepped away and regarded him. "So how are you doing? I heard you were in Phoenix working at an autoshop."

Kenickie cleared his throat. He didn't meet her eye as he answered. "I was, yeah." He sighed, finally looking up at his old friend and tentatively returning her smile. "This place looks pretty nice" he said, removing one hand from his jeans pocket and gesturing towards the salon.

Frenchie turned for a moment to look. "Yeah, it's good. I like it. It's not mine or anything, but the owner is great and she said I could be manager one day if I keep doing a good job."

For perhaps the first time since he'd arrived back in town, Kenickie smiled. "That's really great, French. Doing what you always wanted." They stood quietly for a moment. "Do you have a break coming up? Do you want to grab some coffee?"

Frenchie nodded. "I've just got to finish up with this client then I can take lunch, sure. Give me thirty minutes. You know the place." She winked at him as she walked back inside.

Kenickie watched Frenchie through the steamed up glass. He didn't realise until she went back inside just how hard his heart was hammering.

"This place hasn't changed much, huh?" Frenchie took off her jacket and slipped into the booth opposite Kenickie.

He looked around at The Frosty Palace and a rush of memories came at him. How many hours of his youth did he spend in this place? How many milkshakes did he drink? How many burgers did he eat? Well done, extra pickles, chilli fries on the side. He thought fondly of the memories.

"Not really. Vi's retired though."

Kenickie picked up the menu for something to do, even though he knew his order. There was laughter from the next booth, a group of teens enjoying their Saturday. Two guys had their arms around their girlfriends, another girl whispered in her friend's ear. They looked happy. He wondered if they really were or if it was a front. He felt like he'd spent most of his own teen years pretending, one way or another.

Frenchie is watching them too. "Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Kenickie only shrugged.

"Coffee?" A waitress hovered by their table with a full pot.

"Thank you" Kenickie said. They were both silent as the steaming mugs were poured. When the waitress moved onto the next table, Kenickie let out a long sigh. "Listen, I uh… I didn't only come back to see my Pop." He ran his hand through his sandy blonde hair nervously and his eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but at Frenchie. "You know, I don't have too many regrets in my life, but there's one that I just can't let go of."

Frenchie reached out for his hand. They both knew what he was talking about, who he was talking about, he didn't need to say it. After a moment he pulled away and started drumming his fingers on the formica table.

"Do you know where she is French?" When Kenickie did finally look at Frenchie, his eyes were haunted, desperate. "I mean, I know back then she left without a word to anyone, but I just thought… you know, it's been 5 years, I thought someone might have heard something by now." He swallowed, then asked again. "Do you know where she is?"

Frenchie poured creamer into her coffee for something to do then stirred it with a teaspoon. "Kenickie…"

He could see the worry on her face. The conflict between her heart and her head was reflected in the narrowing of her eyes and the biting of her lip.

"Frenchie, please. If you know where she is, please tell me. I'm not gonna cause trouble or nothing, I know she's probably moved on. Maybe she's married, I don't know." It wasn't a happy thought but it was one he had tried to get used to. "But I need to see her, I need to put things right. Whatever happened back then, I need to know before I go away."

"You've been away" Frenchie asked, confusion evident in her voice.

"I'm going further away. And who knows if I'll get another chance to fix my mistakes."

After a pause that felt like an eternity to Kenickie, Frenchie fixed him with a compassionate but firm stare. "We may not have all been together for a long time, but I still care about both of you. People will get hurt, I don't think I could live with myself."

"I'm already hurting, Frenchie. I've hurt every day since the day Rizzo disappeared."

San Francisco. That's where she was. It took a bit more pleading, but eventually Frenchie relented. But still, it was a pretty big city, and all he had to go on was the name of a hotel where Rizzo supposedly worked as a housekeeper. He didn't waste any time, hitching a ride down the highway in a pick up driven by a trucker of questionable sobriety, but who was nonetheless willing to give him a lift for the price of half a tank of gas.

He got the hotel's address by calling the telephone exchange from a phonebooth at the gas station where his new friend Chuck dropped him off. He scribbled down the address the operator read to him and stood in the booth for a long while staring at the piece of paper.

That was where his courage failed him. He spent three days wandering around the city, steadily getting closer and closer to the address he clutched in his hands as each day wore on. But he always chickened out, never getting more than a couple of blocks from the marble fronted hotel Frenchie mentioned. How would he even go about finding her, even if he did build up the courage to go in? He could hardly walk into the lobby and ask the concierge.

On the fourth day, he positioned himself on a low wall on the edge of a park opposite the staff entrance round the back. He watched maids and busboys, kitchen porters and bartenders come and go, but he didn't once see Rizzo. He had begun to think Frenchie had got it wrong, or Rizzo worked here years ago but had since moved on. How would he find her if she had? She might not even be in the city anymore. He was about to lose hope when, late that evening, illuminated by one single light mounted above the door, he saw her.

She had changed. She'd let her hair grow out, and she carried herself differently. Gone was the teenage swagger he'd found so appealing and in it's place a purposeful by elegant stride. She wore a pencil skirt and blazer underneath a red woollen coat. He smiled to himself, happy to see the burst of colour as call back to the bright and vibrant girl he knew. Sure, Rizzo had changed, but there was no mistake, it was her.

He threw away his cigarette and stood. It was reflex, he didn't really mean to approach her, not yet, but he found he couldn't if he wanted to, the shock of seeing her again rooted him to the spot. A tall dark haired man in a grey suit stepped out of the shadows. Kenickie watched, his brow sweating despite the chill in the air, as the girl that had not left his thoughts since the summer after senior year gave the stranger a welcoming peck on the cheek. He put his arm around her shoulders and side by side they walked up the street away from Kenickie, the click of Rizzo's heels fading as they turned the corner.

There was a bar opposite the Bed & Breakfast Kenickie was staying in. It was a pretty nice place, the B&B. He had some wages saved up from his work at his cousin's autoshop and didn't see the point in slumming it. What was he going to do with the money in a couple of weeks anyway? The bar was nothing special, but the bartenders seemed welcoming enough and the place was quiet. Kenickie had sat by the window with a beer or three every night he'd been in the city.

It wasn't until the night he saw Rizzo for the first time in half a decade that he bypassed his usual seat for a spot at the bar. Murphy, the proprietor, was polishing glasses but abandoned his task when Kenickie sat down.

"We'll be closing soon, but you've got time for one. The usual Bud?"

Kenickie shook his head. "I need something stronger tonight. Give me a bourbon."

Murphy nodded and reached for the bottle and a glass. "Ice?"

"Nah, give it to me neat. A double." The drink was poured and Kenickie stared at it for a moment. "Thanks."

"You from out of town?"

Kenickie threw it back in one, savouring the warmth as the brown liquid slid down his throat. "Yeah. I've come from Phoenix, but I'm between places right now."

"What brings you to this town?"

Kenickie let out a rueful laugh. He wasn't sure why he was being so chatty to this guy, it wasn't in his nature. But seeing Riz earlier had shaken him. He needed company and a drink and here they both were. "A girl."

Murphy laughed. "Isn't it always? Is she the reason you look so down in the dumps?" Kenickie looked up from his empty glass and the bartender held up his hands. "Hey man, I'm sorry if I overstepped. Sometimes I don't know how to keep my mouth shut."

Kenickie let out a long sigh. "It's alright. It's a long and complicated story, I'll spare you the details. I've not seen her in a long time, since high school, but I saw her tonight."

"Wow. How did that go?"

Kenickie shrugged. "I didn't talk to her or nothing. She was with another guy." That wasn't the only reason Kenickie had not made his presence known, but he didn't want to get into that. He needed time to unpack his feelings in his own company before he shared them with anyone else, even a perfect stranger.

"This girl broke your heart huh?"

When Kenickie didn't answer, Murphy silently poured him another drink with a wink and let him be, sauntering down to the other end of the bar to finish polishing glasses.

Yes, thought Kenickie. She did. I didn't realise I loved her until it was too late.

"Betty? Betty?"

Rizzo blinked, and turned to her colleague beside her on the reception desk. She blinked. "Sorry, I was miles away."

Fiona laughed, replacing the pen in the holder and adding a note to the to-do pile for the manager. "Still tired from your vacation?"

Rizzo smiled. "A little."

"It was Peter's sister's wedding, is that right? Was it nice?"

Rizzo closed her eyes. Her husband's family, though well meaning, were intense and it always took her a few days to recover from the madness. "It was a lovely ceremony."

"It must have been nice to get away. You know, just the two of you."

She brushed a bit of lint off her sleeve and adjusted her name badge. "I guess it was. But I'm glad to be back. How's things with Simon anyway?"

Fiona groaned. Rizzo allowed her mind to drift off as Fiona recounted the latest drama in her love life. It was a tale Rizzo had heard many times before, only differing slightly with each new beau, but she didn't mind. It passed the time before the next guest checked out and required their attention.

"… So, I told him, if he wasn't willing to meet me half way then it was over. And you know what he did? Walked out the restaurant. Just like that! The bastard left me with the bill, after he insisted on the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu. That's it, I'm done with him."

"There are plenty more guys out there" Rizzo said. It's true, she thought with an affectionate shake of the head. But Fiona's probably dated them all already.

In a pizzeria a block from the hotel, Kenickie was working on his second slice when the bell above the door chimed and Rizzo walked in, laughing with another woman. The both wore the identical navy skirt and blazer he'd seen Rizzo in a few nights previously, their hair styles immaculate and their makeup flawless. It wasn't the Rizzo he remembered, she seemed even more changed in daylight and up close, but it was definitely her.

He let his slice fall to his plate and watched her with wide eyes. If she turned this way she would see him, no question. But the restaurant was noisy with the lunchtime rush. If he just kept quiet, perhaps she wouldn't notice him.

But was that what he wanted? He'd pestered Frenchie and hitchhiked to this city to see this woman, and here she was right in front of him. Why was he so afraid? As if on cue, Rizzo turned and they locked eyes. The laughter died on her face and she stared at him, wide-eyed. Her friend nudged her, pointing to the menu above her serving counter. Rizzo gave her order, not taking her eyes off Kenickie and he watched as she took in a shaky breath.

Rizzo walked over to the table by the wall where spectre from her past was sitting with a shy smile on his face. She blinked. Her hands were shaking. Was it really him? He saw him pull a couple of paper napkins from the dispenser and wipe the pizza grease from his hands, but he didn't say a word.

"Kenickie." Even saying his name out loud was strange for Rizzo. Part of her had always wondered whether she would see him again, and here he was right in front of her. He hadn't changed that much. His hair was shorter maybe, a light stubble speckled his cheeks. The same leather jacket he always sported was thrown over the empty chair.

Kenickie stood up. The chair scraped against the floor. "Rizzo. You…. You look good." He was nervous, she could tell, but he didn't look as surprised to see her as she was to see him. "I like your hair."

She played with a curl nervously. After saying his name, all other words had failed her.

The gesture struck Kenickie as being uncharacteristically girly for the girl he knew. But she probably wasn't that girl anymore. Time had passed, he probably wasn't the same as he had been either.

"Thanks" Rizzo said eventually. Her mouth was dry and she swallowed to try and rectify that. "What are you doing here, Kenickie?"

Kenickie squared his shoulders and rammed his hands in his pockets. Right in the middle of this busy pizzeria, the moment he'd been thinking about vaguely for over 5 years, but more acutely for the last couple of months had come. It was now or never. He had to get out what he came to say before Rizzo bolted, as she looked poised to do any second. "I came to see you" he said. "Frenchie told me where you worked." Rizzo's eyes narrowed and Kenickie felt bad for dropping their friend in hot water. "Don't be mad at her, I didn't give her much choice. I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be."

Rizzo's shoulders relaxed a little. "Don't I know it."

There it was, the sass that he had found so sexy when they were eighteen. A slight smirk crept onto his face. "Can we talk?"

"I have to go back to work, I was just grabbing a bite to eat." Rizzo brought her hand of her face and rubbed her eyes, probably smudging her make-up but not caring.

"Please?"

Kenickie looked so vulnerable and lost in that moment her heart dropped. Her mind was racing and she could barely think straight through the cacophony of memories whirling around in her head. But it was still there, that indefinable thing that had attracted her to him in the first place. She remembered how underneath the cock-sure bravado, there was a sweet and loyal boy who she had hurt badly. Whatever he had come to the city to tell her, she owed it to him to listen, and to tell him it wasn't his fault. His eyes fell to the floor in defeat, and he readied himself to speak. To apologise maybe, to make his excuses and leave. Rizzo couldn't let him do that.

"I get off at 6" she said. "I'll have time for a coffee before I have to get home."

For the rest of the afternoon, Kenickie walked the streets in a state of nervous excitement, equal parts joy that she had agreed to see him and dread that he'd made a horrible mistake by coming here. His head was spinning, but he made a concerted effort to calm himself and focus on what he was going to say. He felt he had to apologise, although he didn't know what he was apologising for really. It didn't matter. Kenickie felt he must have done something wrong. Why else would she have left all those years ago without saying goodbye?

At the same time, he wanted answers. The end of that summer was a blur of heartache and liquor and bad decisions, but the general uncertainty had haunted him ever since and would continue to do so until he learned the truth.

He was 45 minutes early to meet her. He'd never been early for anything in his life. He sat down in the same spot on the wall where he'd first seen her a week ago and smoked half a pack of cigarettes as he waited. At ten minutes after 6 o'clock, the staff entrance opened and she stepped out into the fading light alone. He threw his half-smoked cigarette in the gutter and stood up, adjusting his jacket and smoothing his hair, a long-term habit he hadn't been able to shake. He raised his hand in greeting.

As they walked to the café Rizzo suggested, they didn't say a word. If it was possible, she looked even more nervous than he did. He snuck sideways glances at her as they walked briskly down the sidewalk side by side, the tension building until Kenickie felt like he screaming inside.

The place was down a side street, tucked away and quiet, but when Rizzo walked through the door the grey-haired woman behind the counter greeted her by first name. They took their jackets off, hanging them on the coat hooks, and Kenickie watched Rizzo as she unwound the scarf from her neck. She wore a pair of black pants and a cream sweater; she had changed out of her uniform and he couldn't help but notice how the fabric of her sweater clung to her figure in all the right places. But he shook his head. He had no right to think of her in that way anymore. He pulled out a chair from the table a little way so she could sit down.

"Frenchie said you were a housekeeper" Kenickie said. Opening with small talk was the only way he could think of to keep his nerves at bay. "Didn't look much like a housekeeper's uniform you were wearing at lunch today."

"I've moved up in the world" she replied with a shrug. "I'm a receptionist."

"Wow. Don't you need people skills for that?"

She laughed. Back in the day they communicated primarily through sarcasm and insults, it was just the way they were. There was something nice about how easily they seemed to be slipping back into their old dynamic. It was comfortable, but Rizzo knew she couldn't let her guard down too much. She couldn't afford to.

"I guess I've grown as a person."

The waitress brought them coffee and Rizzo ordered two slices of cherry pie as well. Kenickie stared out the window, searching for some courage to get into why he had really come.

"It must have been a shock to see me. I'm sorry for that."

"Were you stalking me?"

Kenickie didn't answer and Rizzo raised a mocking eyebrow. Underneath the long hair and the neat make-up was the same feisty no-nonsense girl. But she wasn't a girl anymore, if she ever had been. She was definitely a woman, as he was a man. A man who had to put things right before he began the next chapter of his life.

Rizzo reached for the sugar and as she did so, the fluorescent light glinted off the gold ring on her left hand.

"You're married?" Kenickie asked, although he knew the answer. He should have been prepared for it, he would have been a fool to think Betty Rizzo wouldn't be snapped right up by someone.

"Yeah" she said, somewhat shyly. "His name is Peter. He's a writer."

"I never pictured you with a Peter" he said. "Or a writer. I thought you'd end up with a racer named Jason or Brody or something."

Rizzo only shook her head in amusement. "Truthfully, I was never that interested in cars, I only pretended to be. I was much more interested in the boy driving them."

Rizzo blushed. It was a new look on her. Kenickie felt she never seemed to be embarrassed by anything back at high school. But maybe she was putting on an act back then just like he was.

Rizzo took a sip of hot coffee, burning her tongue but thinking that small punishment was what she deserved for flirting with this man she hadn't seen in five years. She was a married woman, and she wasn't like that.

"Is he good to you?" Kenickie asked, and Rizzo thought that was perhaps the sweetest question he could have asked.

"He is." She smiled to herself. "Do you have someone?"

Kenickie shook his head. "Nah. There have been a few girls over the years, but no one special really. I was always working too much." Back on safer ground, Kenickie relaxed and leant back in his chair. "My cousin Aleks gave me a job as a mechanic in his autoshop. Pretty soon I was managing the place. It was great, I really enjoyed it."

"Past tense?"

And just like that, the conversation was into more difficult territory again. "I left, I moved on. That's why I'm here. I joined the Marines. They were looking for engineers and I thought why not? Fixing cars all my life paid off, I guess. I start my training next week." He paused, letting all that sink in.

He noticed that Rizzo's big brown eyes were focused on him completely. It stirred something in him, the something that he tried to ignore. He took a drink of his own coffee and continued. "I could be out there in a month, you know. And I couldn't go without putting my life straight first."

Rizzo's nerves were back, but they were nerves of a different kind. "Out there? You mean Vietnam?" Kenickie nodded and she slumped down in her chair. She'd read the newspapers, of course she had. It was pretty hard to escape, even harder to sort out the facts from the fiction. But even mentioning the country scared her.

"Look, I have to say it, and I know you're married and everything and I respect that. If you say he's a good guy I believe you and I don't want to get in the way of anything or cause you any trouble." Kenickie was rambling now, but he couldn't seem to get control of his mouth. "That summer after senor year was the best time of my life, Riz. Nothing since has even come close. I fell in love with you. It's the biggest regret of my life that I never told you."

Rizzo looked up at the ceiling, willing furiously for her tears to stay just where they were. She didn't like crying in front of anyone, she never had. She wanted to appear tough. But everything about that summer came rushing back to her like a tidal wave, the good and the bad, and it was a futile effort not to let it show. She felt a tear roll down her cheek.

Kenickie immediately regretted making her cry, and seeing her so vulnerable stirred the same emotions in him. He had seen her angry and playful, happy and spiteful, every other emotion under the sun, but he didn't recall ever seeing her cry.

"I'm sorry" he said. It's what he wanted to say all along. He placed his hand on the table top inches from hers, and when she didn't pull away, he took hold of her fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze.

Rizzo snatched a napkin from the dispenser with her other hand and dabbed at her eyes, annoyed at herself for crying. But she stayed seated, she didn't try and run, and she didn't try to hit him or throw something at him either. All good signs.

"I loved you too" Rizzo said. The words hung in the air between them and they just looked at each other frankly and calmly until the waitress brought over their pie.

Kenickie wasn't hungry, but he picked up his forked and cut off a piece anyway. Rizzo didn't touch hers, seemingly too lost in her thoughts to even notice if was there. Kenickie felt like it would be a colossal mistake to interrupt her so he just ate, and watched.

"I owe you answers" Rizzo said eventually. "I know I do. I'm afraid you're going to hate me when you get them."

"I was angry for a long time" Kenickie said honestly, "but I never hated you. I never could hate you."

"Yeah well, you haven't heard what I have to say yet."

"Is everything alright here?" the waitress said. She hovered by their table with a smile on her face.

"Yes, fine" Kenickie said dismissively. His tone was abrupt and the woman backed away, frowning and muttering something under her breath.

In the brief pause in their conversation, Rizzo seemed to have gotten a hold on her emotions. When she spoke again her voice was harder, a barrier in place that she'd always used to survive. "I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, Kenickie. I tried to see you, really I did, but I didn't have a choice. My father wouldn't let me leave the house. He got a new job, piled my Mom, my brother and me into the car and we were gone. It all happened so fast."

The confusion on Kenickie's face was unmistakeable. "Why?"

Rizzo put her head in her hands, her palms covering her whole face. She couldn't look at him. She had to be honest, now that he was right in front of her there was no evading the truth anymore, but her courage stopped short of being able to look Kenickie in the eye when she admitted her secret.

"Because he found out about the baby."