"Uh..." Micky's throat suddenly felt dry and he licked his lips, feeling a little nervous, "can you hang on a second, Peter?"

"Sure?" Peter sounded confused, but Micky didn't give him a second thought as he crossed the parking lot. The motorcyclist was attempting to hold back a grin as Micky approached him.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

Micky swallowed a lump in his throat and was about to fire back when someone called out to them.

"'ey, Mike!" They both turned their attention to the second motorcycle that came roaring into the parking lot. By then, everyone who was outside was staring at them. Neither motorcyclist seemed to give their audience any mind.

"Your name is Mike?" Micky asked, looking at the dark-haired man.

He was ignored. "I thought I told you to wait, Davy."

"What're you doing around this old dump?" Davy looked around, a look of disgust on his face as he took in the school, the students, Micky. "C'mon man, Ringo says he's got the stuff."

Michael looked back and forth between Davy and Micky, before finally nodding at Davy. "Yeah, all right. Let's go."

They took off then, leaving Micky behind in a trail of dust.