Of course Vince remembers, though he’s surprised Eric does. It was years ago, back when they were kids—only eight or nine years old, he doesn’t remember exactly, but they were still friends. On Fridays that summer they’d walk down a few blocks to the 7-11 at the end of the street to spend their allowances—five dollars each, wasted on Slurpees and candy, and whatever was left over they’d pool for a comic.
Vince filled the drinks, that was his job. Eric would pick out the candy, and together they’d browse through the comics to see which was better that week, X-Men or one of the DC titles, Batman or Superman or even Wonder Woman, who was a girl but still kicked ass. Only that day Eric was already at the comics when Vince found him, and he had two in hand like he was going to get them both. “
