Seriously. This used to be excruciating. But now, crowded in here with RJ, Walker, and Fluffington, I feel like I’m flying, or high, or well, alive.
RJ’s focused on the cameras, as usual, while Walker preps his third anonymous email to Trips’ dad, this time with a video of Mattie and Bryce.
I’m a little worried that she’s the one who’s going to get hurt in all this. Trips’ dad isn’t the most stable. But we need Bryce on the man’s shit list, and this is the quickest way to put him there. If the big bad dad can take care of our problem before we take care of him, well, that’s one thing we don’t have to carry on our backs.
My morals have always been nebulous, but I never figured I’d be pro murder. I guess you live and you learn…that some people just need to be taken off the face of the planet.
Dang. It’s getting dark in here.
Opening my phone, I pull up the most ridiculous cover my sister’s band has out there, a twinge of regret flaring that I don’t let take over. Then I crank the volume high and wrap Fluffington around my neck like a scarf.
The chorus starts and I hoedown like I know what I’m doing. I don’t. But it’s stupid fun to pretend. Walker and RJ turn to watch me, Fluffington grumbling as he stands on my shoulders, his tail whipping in annoyance across my face before he launches himself at Walker on the bench seat.
“Ow,” he gripes, scooping the cat up and placing him beside him instead of clinging to his legs with nails fully extended. “Jansen—” he stops himself, forcing the annoyance off his face.
Apparently, he’s trying to humor me. Deciding to take advantage of it, I pluck the laptop off his lap and set it aside, then yank him to his feet to dance with me.
RJ chuckles, shaking his head and warding me off with open palms when I try to get him on his feet too. Walker bounces on his toes, even though I know he’s got better moves than that, his face locked in mock censure.
But his eyes shine with withheld laughter.
Somebody’s got to liven up this place. We can’t do what we’re going to do with frowns. Doing minorly illegal stuff is supposed to be fun. And I want everyone here acting like it.
The song ends, and Walker grabs my phone, silencing it before it continues our party. “What was that about?”
I shrug, folding myself onto the floor. “We’re too serious.”
Walker glares out the front of the van, a look I’m more accustomed to seeing on Trips’ face than his. “Yeah. But that’s because this is serious stuff, Jay.”
“If we’re not having fun when there’s a chance for it, why are we even doing this? Besides the whole ‘save Clara and ourselves’ bit. That’s a given. But stealing? It’s a game. And if you take it too seriously, it’ll mess you up. It’llmakeyou mess up. Trust me.”
RJ spins back to his monitors. “This one’s only you, Jay. Why worry about where our heads are at?”
“Because the next one is all of us.” I flop onto my back, Fluffington immediately taking that as an invitation to launch himself onto my stomach. Oof. “And because I don’t want you two to walk much farther into the dark. That place is hard to pull yourself out of. Trust me. I know.”
The silence tells me I maybe said too much.
Or maybe it’s the exact right amount. Because it’s true, even if they don’t want to hear it right now.
Working hard without playing hard isn’t a life worth living.
At least, not to me. And while most of my playing lately has been in the form of random sexts with Clara, it’s still something. I’m not sure the other guys have taken much of that opportunity—they’re too caught up in the mess we have in front of us. And if they won’t hand any of the work off to me, well, they’re going to have to deal with random dance parties. Movie nights and museum visits. Whatever I can do to get them out and living again.
We’re going to get through this, but Clara doesn’t want a bunch of serious, mopey boyfriends. She wants us to be mostly who we were when she left.
We’ve all changed, of course. I’m sure she and Trips have as well. There’s no way we could go through all of this and not become something a little different. Darker. Stronger. Bitter.
But we’re doing this so we can live free. Be the people we are without the weight of imminent doom hanging over our heads. And I’m going to squeeze whatever joy I can out of that future. We might as well practice now.
RJ clears his throat. “I hate to interrupt the heavy silence, but it’s time to get out there.”
I laugh at his almost joke, needing the lightness more than ever. I can’t sink again. The drugs help, but I still have the brain I have, and I’m not going there again. Not if I’m risking the sanity of everyone around me.
“Alright then. Same entry as last time? Any changes in the window?”
“Nope. They still leave it unlocked.”
“Sweet.” I run through my quick warmup, excitement thrumming through my body. It’s muted, not the same as it was, but I have to remind myself that my normal isn’t actually normal. This soft buzz is apparently what others feel. So I’m going to have to learn to enjoy the subtle pleasure of it. I guess.
