Zachary McClemens "Will Zachary Mcclemens please report to the principal's office. Will Zachary McClemens please report to the principal's office. Thank you," the intercom sounded. The dark-haired teen looked up at the speaker on the ceiling with furrowed brows. Why the hell was he being called to the principal? He glanced over at his Chemistry teacher, who nodded to let him know it was alright to leave. He piled his books into his book bag and slung it over his shoulder, only zipping it halfway as he stood and walked out of the classroom. He walked downstairs and turned right to get to the office. He opened the glass door and looked curiously, seeing his mother. "Mom, what's goin' on," he asked, frowning. She never picked him up from school, especially not two ours before school let out. She didn't answer his question, but the dark-haired woman ushered him out of the office. "I've got to go on a business trip this weekend," she told him. "So we're going to have our lunch today, instead." They always had Saturday lunch out at a restaurant, or a home-cooked meal. Sort of a tradition they had to stay close to each other. She had dated a few guys, but none had stuck. She was a single mother and felt alone, and Zach was a little protective of her because of it. "Alright. Where are we going," he asked her as they left the building to head to her car that was parked out front. "I don't mind cooking, if we can get to the grocery store. He liked cooking, and was pleased when his mom liked his experimental recipes. "Let's head to the grocery store, then," she smiled at him as she got into the car. When both doors were closed, she pulled out and headed out of the parking lot. "So what concoction are you thinking up," she asked him with an amused twinkle in her eye. "I'm thinking... Something Australian, maybe," he said with a grin. He pulled out his phone and pulled up the browser to look up a recipe. "Yep, Australian," he said, nodding at his phone. He bookmarked the page of the recipe he chose and pocketed his phone.