He was so focused on the stupid car that he didn't hear the girl sneak up behind him. Maybe 'sneak' was a mean word, he didn't see why she'd bother to be sneaking around - it made her sound nefarious, like she was skulking. Which she probably wasn't. Still, it felt like sneaking because he hadn't expected it. He gave a little jerk of surprise, blinking quickly as he washed away the thoughts of his father and came back to the present. He realised then that he was just standing there, glaring at a nice car for no apparent reason - not that Zach tended to care for how things look, he was too busy getting himself into trouble anyway so people's assumptions were usually right that he was up to no good, no point denying the fact.

"What did that car do to you to earn that look?" "Hmm?" Was his first automatic response, not expecting the stranger to talk. Most people did, only so they could accuse him of something - he just had one of those faces, he guessed, cheeky and mischievous, but she didn't look like she was about to start yelling. She was a bit odd looking, not in a bad way, just with all that colour in her hair, and the gaunt expression on her face. Zac wasn't one to notice the things people usually notice, he didn't tend to consider someone pretty or not pretty, but he did pick up on nuances a lot of the time - like if someone had freckles on their ears or something random like that. "Oh, this?" He asked, pointing toward the car, "it hasn't done anything yet, it's what it could do..." Like kill someone. He shrugged, "like how fast it could go." But he wouldn't, because look what happened last time. And yet, a part of him itched, as if to repeat history or to fix it.

"Zach, I swear to God, if you put one more toe out of line at this school..." Zach sighed, loudly, shutting up his father. "...that'll be it. Straight off to the military. You'll wish you never fucked about then." He finished for him, mimicking his dad in a way he knew would piss him off. "Language." His father abolished. "English." He responded automatically, like the asshole he always was when his father was concerned. The abrupt silence on the other end was loaded. Zach pretended not to notice but his stomach hardened just a little. "Zach, I am at the end of my tether with you, I don't know what else to do. I don't know why you behave this way, but if you don't sort it out, that's it." He rolled his eyes, kicking a stone across the path. "That's it." Zach repeated quietly, giving a small nod and frowning. "That's it, like what?" Because what could his father do, really? He'd never cut him off - what would that look like, CEO cutting of his own son because he was clearly troubled and needed help. The press would have a field day. His reputation would take a hit. He couldn't send him to juvie, he'd already paid everyone off not to send him there. Miltary was the only threat his father had up his sleeve, and even that didn't scare Zach. It would just be another school in another long line of schools.

Again, the silence was deafening, and Zach couldn't help letting out a quiet 'mhmm', knowing how hard his dad would be gripping that phone right now, how red with anger he would be. Zach didn't know why he loved winding his dad up so much. He didn't do it to mum, not in the same way, but there was something about his father he just couldn't stop pushing. It was like he wanted him to snap, to see how far he could go before that was the end. He paused walking, tucking a hand behind his back and leaning against the corner of a shop, tipping his head back to look up at the grey of the sky whilst he waited. His dad would be counting to ten now, calming himself down, doing those exercises he's been told to do when he gets to that point of almost no return. "Just do what I tell you." Was his only response. Zach was almost disappointed. How generic - was he reading from a script? Some google page of 'what to tell your troublesome teenager son to make them behave. "You will go to class, you will go to your therapy sessions, you will stop going out every evening and drinking away my money-" Zach raised a brow at that, "It sounds like you're trying to ground me from all those miles away." Was that resentment in his tone? At least he knew his father was paying enough attention to be checking the bill charges on his credit card. "Zach." His father sighed, and he knew the conversation was done. Had he won? He wasn't sure. "I have to go." And he hung up. It was the usual way he ended the call. So much apparently still to say, but also nothing.

Zach hung up the phone and returned it to his pocket, surveying the street he'd ended up on. He hadn't been paying attention - what did it matter where you were in this town, it wasn't very big and it wasn't hard to get back to where you started as long as you had money to burn on a taxi or something. His skin itched, his blood was up. It was similar to when people got in a fight, he figured - he wasn't one to do that, he never raised his voice or his fists - but conversations with daddy dearest always riled him, and he needed to get rid of that feeling. Shoplifting usually did the trick, but he wasn't in the mood for it. It was the wrong kind of thrill. His eyes flickered to a parked Mercedes across the way and he considered it, but ever since that time.... he couldn't do it anymore. The most he'd done was sit in a car, but he hadn't been able to even try and start it. Vandalism was a nice way to go, but with nothing on him but his phone, he had no paints and he'd have to find something heavy if he wanted to start smashing shit. He frowned, he hated being bored and not knowing how to fix it.

"Guess you should do the police's work for them, you're very good at sussing out stuff." Maybe it was meant as an insult but he just shrugged, "I don't fancy it, they're too up themselves. I don't want to be shoving a stick up my ass just to join." He hardly noticed the obnoxiousness of the sigh. It was both a blessing and a curse when it came to Zach - great because people could be as sarcastic as they wanted and most of the time he just didn't pick up on it that well. So if someone was in a shite mood, they could let it out on him a little and it wouldn't make an impact on him, the down side was sometimes he lacked the ability to pick up when they were mad at him, or he'd upset them. "My dad's in the military." He raised a brow, "Does that mean it runs in the family?" He asked, unsure what kidn of answer she'd given him. "Ah. But clearly, you still go cop chasing even if it isn't all the time." His lips curled at the corners, "well, everyone needs a hobby." and this was a rather interesting one to have.

He was winding her up, he could tell, and he didn't mean to - he just had this habit of doing it. "I don't know. We just...do." Zach stared at her for a few more seconds, before he blinked and nodded as if he suddenly understand. "Right, right... very useful, thanks." and he grinned again, like the little shit that he was. "Zach, why on earth do you like to lie to people you love? I feel like no Oscar, imaginary or not, is good enough for that." Oh, so they were jumping right into that kind of topic were they. "Bit of a personal question for a stranger, no? Shouldn't you at least try to get me drunk first?" He deflected, waggling a finger at her as if to tell her off. "Maybe I'm not looking for trophies." He commented with a shrug, even if he'd been the one to mention Oscar's in the first place. He was not going into the whole psychoanalysis 'why though' games. He'd been forced into enough therapist's rooms.

Her smile full blown was really something, and he couldn't lie that he wasn't pleased he'd brought it out of her. "Yeah yeah. You won me over, kid." He rolled his eyes at the 'kid' remark - like a typical lad, he might not be trying to impress her but he didn't see himself as a child. "If you're the damsel, does that make me the knight?" Zach tilted his head and then shrugged with another grin. "Why not? Go with the times - men can be Queen's and women can be King's and all that." He had no qualms about it, it didn't really come into his brain. "Though you might need to clean your armour," after he'd knocked her down and all that. "Here - its my real number and I already texted myself. I never say no to a free drink, especially one that's owed after saving someone's ass from the police. Even if it was accidental." He made an impressed expression to see she had actually given him her number. "Respect, I had expected a fake." He admitted. "Guess I have no choice now but to cough up on my end whenever the knight calls." He added a mock curtsy for effect.

Zac was smart - in some areas more than others - and thought he spoke pretty good English, so he was a bit concerned (not uncertain, that word wasn't in Zac's repertoire) that she was just staring at him like that. It was a little disconcerting after a few seconds, as if he'd done something offensive. "What?" He asked, if only to break her out of it, though not rudely. "The cops were actually chasing you?" Oh was that it? Zac laughed and nodded, returning her look as if he also didn't get why she was confused. "Well yeah, they don't generally just go running about in their uniforms for exercise." though Zac felt like he was doing them a service by forcing it. Some of them had absolutely had one too many doughnuts whilst waiting on crime. At least he got their hearts pumping. Gave them a little bit of excitement to take home to their wives and girlfriends in the evening to sound interesting. Get the hearts pumping in any entirely different kind of way.

"Do you need help picking your jaw up from the floor?" His brows rose, but in delight. He liked someone with a bit of spunk, and she clearly had it in her. "No, luckily it's on a hinge." he joked back, grinning wildly at her. It was always like this after exhilaration, he was a bit overly carefree and wired, struggling to come down from the high, likely to go chasing another to feel at the top of the world again. It's when he got into most of his trouble, always taking it that step too far. "Uh, because I am a mature young lady and clearly older than you so therefore you should not be calling me a minx!" Zac was even more perplexed at that and tilted his head curiously, looking at her like she was a creature from another planet, as women were to him most of the time. "That doesn't make any sense. And how would you know if you were older?" he knew he might look like a young lad but looks could be deceiving. He used his boyish charms whenever he could, some people thinking him to be younger than he was because of it.

It felt a little odd to be looking down at her all of a sudden, but he felt good to be on his feet again, shaking out his limbs. He hadn't known what reaction to expect but the laughter was a surprise. He let out a slow grin, almost hopeful, that now she was going to quit berating him and play nicely. "Buddy. You may be adorable and very charming to pull all a lot of stuff, but I have a kid sister. I know a lie when it's delivered to me." Zac frowned slightly at that, he was very good at telling tales and spinning lies but he didn't always appreciate the accusations of them. "Little Minx, I wouldn't waste the time lying to you as a stranger." He shot back, watching her get settled back on her own feet. He'd had half a mind to offer her a hand but he didn't want to further offend her, given he seemed to be doing so with every word out of his mouth already. "I'm Wynter. But you may call me Wynnie." He was mildly surprised by that and another childish smile curled his lip. "Friendly name basis already? I'm honoured. And I'm also, Zac." He introduced himself in turn. No need to go saying his full name, he hated it with a passion and preferred to hide it if he could. No doubt the mouthy Wynnie would have delight in going around calling him Zachariah just as a form of payback for spilling her drink. He probably owed her a replacement or something on that front too but one adventure at a time.

He'd already forgotten about the woman he'd knocked into. Not very gallant of him, naturally, to forget that part of his tale. He was too busy relishing the rush of adrenaline, the buzz beneath his skin from the chase. His father was going to murder him if he got caught again, but the thought only widened the gin on Zach's face. He supposed he probably looked quite manic, as opposed to dashing or charming like in the films when they orchestrated these 'meet cutes'. The big grin on his face, the laugh, the lack of attention to the other persons health. He couldn't feel the bite of the cold yet, the fast bumping of his blood kept him warm, along with the run he'd just given himself. He quit laughing after a moment, letting out a loud exhale as he felt his heart begin to calm, unable to hear or feel the pounding reverberation of footsteps heading his way - clearly he'd outrun his counterparts. For the moment at least.

Suddenly, his view of the overcast Wintry sky was interrupted by the appearance of a face he didn't know. Oh yeah shit - that girl. Oops. He hoped that perhaps she might find this whole thing funny, but even as oblivious as he could be, one look at her face told him she did not in the least thing this was amusing. The movies had that seriously wrong. "What the hell man? You owe me a hot chocolate for that. What the heck where you doing running around like that? The cops after you or something?" Well shit, she really was mad - and how had she known? That thought made him blink and he sat up fast - too fast. His head cracked hers, not having realised how close she was - and how short compared to his 6ft lanky frame. "Fuck," He muttered with a wince, clapping a hand to his forehead.. and then remembering why he had sat up so rapidly. "Are they still there then?" He asked suddenly, whipping his head around to try and spot the uniforms.

He couldn't see them, and he pushed himself to his feet for a better view, using his frame as a vantage point to check over heads of the crowd passing them. Nope. "You got me all riled for nothing, you little minx." He snorted, rolling his eyes, and then rubbing his forehead again with abandon. "Also, ouch, you have one tough skull." He complained, wrinkling his nose. A better man would have remembered to ask if she was alright, but he'd kind of forgotten that already, his mind running a million miles through their conversation.

"Shit." Zach knew he had been risking it with this one, but he'd been in the mood to cause trouble and the Audi had been sitting there, too tempting to resist. It screamed rich bitch, especially with the personalised number plate, and watching Plastic Barbie get out of the car and totter her way over to Starbucks in ridiculously pink high heels boots.. that had capped it. Not that he had anything against the way people dressed, and even he had to admit he'd gotten off with girls that looked like that before. Standards... what were those? Zach just knew the type though, and he felt like being an asshole. What better thing to do than take Barbie's car away and make her walk home? He didn't need to keep it, he didn't need to sell it for parts, he'd just leave it somewhere less convenient for them to find at a later date.

Naturally, it had an alarm, which he had anticipated. He knew cars, loved cars actually, even as he accidentally scraped up the drivers side door as he worked on making his way inside. That's when the patrol car had come past. No chance of denying the one - no 'sir I forgot my keys, it's mine I promise' bullshit. He ducked and ran. He could hear them on his tail within a second, the quick woop of the siren as they whipped around to play chase. Other people would be terrified - oh God they'd arrest him, they'd cuff him and throw him in the back, his father would be called. Not Zac. The grin lit his face, his heart hammering away but the adrenaline was a rush as he pounded down the street and took a short cut through an alleyway. They would be forced to pursue on foot, and he was damn fast - and had a head start.

He was surprised to see them still hot on his ass as he shot out of his alley way sprint, and he doubled his efforts- looks like he would need a crowd to lose them today. His brain was fast, and he was changing route before he even realised, a sharp left hand turn toward the sea front. The police were no longer in the car and were pounding pavement somewhere behind him. As the sea came into view he made another quick fire decision and picked the pier over the front. It was a bit of a dead end but it was busy; with the weak Winter sun out people were enjoying a liesurely walk in the fresh air. How quaint. He was flying down toward the end when he risked another look back, seeing them still on the promonade but heading his way. Another wide grin with the exhilaration of the chase, Zach kissed goodbye to his hoodie, yanking it over his head and chucking it aside for somewhere to save until later - he was warm from the run and they'd be looking for someone in blue, not the black t-shirt he was wearing.

Zach had stripped as he'd been turned the other way, and as he turned back following his perfect throw, it was just in time to save himself from a head on collision with a young woman. "Well fuck," He burst out, he was an asshole but he wasn't a complete dickhead. His hands reached out automatically, long fingers going to curl around her arms to give her a push away slightly so that his path was clear. He was an athletic kid - running from trouble did that to a man's physique - but even he couldn't save himself as he stumbled, dropping to the wooden slats with a thump and managing in the last moment to complete a haphazard tuck and roll. He stayed where he lay, his chest rising and falling in quick succession, flat on his back as he looked up at the cold grey of the sky. Then he let out a delighted laugh.