A Misunderstanding : The Music Freaks :

Chapter 2: Anticipation

When school let out, Drew met up with his friends. The four of them, Drew, Jake, Henry, and Liam, walked home together, their usual route winding through quiet streets and familiar corners. After dropping off Henry and Liam, Drew and Jake continued on toward Jake's house.

"And then," Drew said, throwing his hands up, "after I bought her the dress, she asked me for nothing. Nothing. I don't even know what that means."

Jake walked beside him, eyes fixed on the pavement. He nodded absently, clearly not listening.

Drew noticed.

He sighed and let the conversation die. When they reached Jake's house, Drew gave a quick wave and watched as Jake headed inside. Instead of going home, Drew turned in the opposite direction and made his way to the store.

He knew exactly what he needed.

A crowbar.
A pipe wrench.
A hammer.
A chisel.

He paid without hesitation and headed home, his thoughts already spiraling ahead of him. Once inside, he laid the tools out neatly and began planning.

The plan was simple.

He'd break into Jake's house through the garage. Sneak into Jake's room. Take his phone. Make it look like a random break-in. Leave.

The crowbar would pry open the garage door. The chisel would chip through door handles if necessary. Jake's phone would be on the nightstand, always was. Then he'd rough the place up a bit, pry loose a few floorboards, smash some furniture. Finally, he'd throw the pipe wrench through a window on his way out.

Messy. Convincing.

All he needed was something, anything, in Jake's messages. Dirt. Secrets. Something he could use to get Jake kicked out of the music club.

He spent the rest of the day pretending everything was normal, anticipation simmering beneath his skin. Eventually, he decided to call Jake.

Jake picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jake."

"Oh, Drew. Hey. What's up?"

"Wanna come over and play some games?"

"Sure. I'll be there in five."

The call ended.

Drew quickly cleaned up, hiding the tools beneath a chair and making sure everything else looked ordinary. Jake arrived a little late, but Drew didn't mind. They settled onto the couch and played Gacha Kart on Drew's new console. Jake lost every round, he didn't play often, but Drew didn't care as long as he stayed engaged.

Jake seemed distracted, though. Focused, but not entirely present.

Drew stood up. "I'm gonna grab some drinks. You want anything?"

"Oh, uh, sure. Just water."

Drew left the room.

Jake shifted on the couch, stretching, when something caught his eye. Beneath the chair across the room, a metal handle peeked out. Curious, he stood and pulled it free.

A pipe wrench.

His stomach tightened.

He looked again and noticed more, hidden just barely out of sight. A crowbar. A chisel. A hammer.

Why would Drew have these?

Jake stared at the wrench, suddenly uneasy. It looked brand new. Heavy. Purposeful.

What if Drew was planning something illegal?

Footsteps sounded. Jake quickly shoved the tools back and returned to the couch just as Drew reentered.

Drew handed him a glass of water and held a bottle of cola for himself.

"You ready to lose, rich boy?" Jake teased.

"Game on, loser," Drew shot back.

"Bye, Jake!" Drew waved as Jake headed down the street toward his house.

Once alone, Drew stepped into his room and collapsed onto the couch. He reached for his phone, then froze.

Across the room, the chair sat slightly askew.

The tools were visible.

His chest tightened.

Did I leave them out?
No.

Jake must have seen them. Pulled them out.

Panic crept in.

If Drew used the tools now, Jake would recognize them. That meant improvising. He couldn't bring everything, just one.

The crowbar.

It would get him inside. He'd figure out the rest when he got there.

He reasoned through the house layout. The garage door could maybe be picked. The other doors had deadbolts. Jake's bedroom door was probably unlocked, no problem there. He decided not to break anything this time. Just grab the phone, open a window from the inside, and leave the garage door open.

Quiet. Clean.

He went to his closet and pulled out a black hoodie and a pair of jeans. Then he grabbed a black ski mask, left over from a vacation he'd taken with Jake's family years ago.

The mask stirred memories. When things were easy. When they'd hang out every day, before school, after school, weekends, sleepovers. Back when nothing felt complicated.

Drew sighed.

That's why I'm doing this, he told himself.

He dressed, stuffed the mask into his pocket, and slid the crowbar under his hoodie. As he grabbed his phone from the charger, a notification lit up the screen.

I need to talk to you. Soon.

Hailey.

President of that stupid music club.

Drew typed back, Tomorrow after school.
Then he shut his phone off.

He left the house and headed toward Jake's.

It was time to put the plan into motion.

Elsewhere, Hailey read the message, and smiled.