Something people never really mention about California is how cold the nights get. After Freddie and my parents had gone to bed, Corey, Ian and I snuck out to the back deck, where we waited in the cool night breeze for Robby. It was a peaceful kind of quiet. The only sounds were the bubbling of the Koi pond and the chirping- if you could call it that- of crickets.
"Listen, Ringo." Corey started. "I know that Keene is a friend of yours and all, but are you sure he's reliable."
"Shut up." I hissed, kicking a stray pebble form the deck at Corey's shin. "He's never let me down before."
"Yeah, but we had no idea he was a common criminal." Ian pointed out
"Not a common criminal. He's reformed."
There was a crash from outside the side gate, where the recycling bins were waiting to be brought inside. Ian started out of the patio chair, and Corey reached for the barbecue grill brush. No idea what kind of good that would have done. The gate creaked open, a very familiar voice following the sound of the gate slamming shut.
"Sorry I'm late!" Robby Keene shouted, bounding up the steps to the deck. "My mother had another man of the week over and I needed to wait until they were done dong sinful things on our couch."
"No problem." Corey said, tossing the grill brush aside. "Totally wasn't scared shitless when we heard crashing. Anyways, we doing this or not?"
Robby nodded. "I can get us in and out, but we need to cover our faces." He pulled a red bandana out of his pocket. "Not black, but it was the best I had. Do you guys have anything?"
Ian grinned. God help us all. He reached under the glass patio table and produced a bright green Longos bag. "I've got just the thing." My cousin reached inside, producing something I thought I'd never see in my life.
"Is that a Mexican wrestling mask? This is a break-in, not Nacho Fucking Libre!" I snapped. "You think I'd be caught dead wearing that?"
"Nacho Libre was a great fucking movie!" Corey snapped, pointing fingers and reaching for the bright blue mask that Ian was holding. "I call being Jack Black."
"Dude!" Ian protested, "I'm Jack Black."
I rolled my eyes. "Last I checked, neither of you were fat, famous or white."
"I'm famous." Corey quipped.
"YouTube doesn't count. It's barely paying your tuition for the fall."
"Now that we've got that sorted." Robby cut us off, distributing the luchador masks "Who's driving?"
"Me!" Ian and Corey shouted at the same time, throwing their arms in the air
I cut them off "Wrong. I'm driving. I'm the best driver here, and I don't think we need to be pulled over after breaking into the Karkaroff House."
Corey hummed. "You make a fair point. Give her the keys, Ian."
"What?" Ian shouted. "She's not driving my car!"
"It's not a car." I corrected. "It's a garbage heap on wheels. Now give me the damn keys."
Robby looked at me, his hazel eyes wide. "Are they always like this?"
I nodded, grabbing the keys out of midair as Ian tossed them to me, still grumbling under his breath about something. "All the time."
The drive was quiet, save for Corey and Ian's bickering. Robby gave me a few concerned looks as I reached to turn up the radio, blasting 'Fields of Bone' by Black Veil Brides. As far as Corey and Ian were concerned, I had grown out of my emo phase. That wasn't actually entirely true.
My fingers were tapping at the steering wheel a mile a minute, followed by lyrics sung lowly under my breath.
"All the sinners are laid to rest, all this misery has to end."
If I stopped for even a second, I would think of all the ways things would go wrong. All the years that we would get in juvenile hall.
If you thought the Karkaroff House was imposing in the daylight, wait until you've seen it in the middle of the night. The three-story Victorian had multiple sloping roofs, a weathered a spiky weather vane that had been there sine the sixties sat on top. The blue siding was ghostly pale in the glow of the moon. I sucked in a breath before killing the engine.
"Be real with me, Robby." I said slowly. "If this goes sideways, and Kyler's family will press charges, how many years in juvie are we looking at."
"Let's not think about that." Robby said, reaching for my hand. "Let's just get in there, and get out. It's foolproof."
We piled out of the car, Ian and Corey all to eager to don their luchador masks. After fighting for twenty minutes over who got the one that looked like Jack Black's from 'Nacho Libre', Corey had won, and Ian wasn't too happy about it as he slipped a shimmering gold mask over his head.
"How can you see out of this damn thing?" I frowned, staring at the purple fabric in my hand.
"If you can wrestle in them," Ian reasoned "you can break into a house."
"Whatever." I shrugged. "Can someone give me a hand?"
"Yeah, let me help." Robby said softly, coming up behind me as I slipped the fabric over my head. He reached for the strings at the back to tie the mask up, gathering loose strands of my hair and tucking them in.
For the first time since I'd known Robby Keene, when his fingers dusted the exposed skin at the back of my neck, it sent electricity coursing through my body and butterflies running rampant in my stomach.
Brushing it off, I turned back to the group.
"Let's go find some gold."
NOTES!!
officially done with school, so hopefully i can update a bit more frequently
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