The cool, dry air is a relief - it makes him realize he hadn't been getting a full breath outside. But the inside of this shop is as strange as anything outside. Stranger, in fact. He follows the older boy slowly, down the aisles lit by unforgiving white lights. What is in all these brightly colored bags lining the shelves? At least some of it must be food, judging by the pictures of berries or cows stamped on them, but can all of them be?

Maybe they can, he realizes, as he sees all the different kinds of drinks behind the glass doors in the wall. He wonders what the difference between some of them even is. Everything behind two of the doors looks like water, but the bottles come in different shapes with differently colored labels. Everything here would likely make so much more sense if he could read. It's good, he supposes, that he ran into someone who clearly can.

He watches how the other boy opens the bottle, unscrewing his own cap carefully and taking a small sip. He's never seen a pink drink before. His eyes open wide at the taste.

"It's really sweet." But tart, too, like the tall boy said. He squints at it, not sure what to think. Whatever else, it's wonderfully cold. He takes another sip.