Zacharias arrived amidst all the others, fashionably late, as he was prone to doing. He'd brought with him a great canister of apricot filled strudels that his mother had prepared out of the goodness of her heart. All the better--Zach couldn't cook for shite.
He couldn't remember ever having gone to Hannah's house before. Though they were friends, there had always been something daunting about the size and quality of her home. Zacharias lived in a comfortable flat with his parents--the very home he'd grown up in--but it paled in comparison to such a place. Thankfully he wasn't here alone. He'd probably feel like a minuscule object among all the rest of them.
Having come by apparition, Zacharias' loud pop fell on deaf ears, at least until he caught sight of Sally-Anne standing at the doorstep some ways away.
"Sally-Anne!" he called, hoisting the box of strudels up and close to his chest.