𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑! [𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊]

chapter five.

CRUEL SUMMER!
chapter five.

( 胸がはち切れそうで. )

                        It's oddly spacious inside the van. I've only ever seen it from afar, the inside had always been a mystery I never cared much about. There's not as many seats as I would've thought, and about a dozen safety hazards to sitting back here, but I suppose at the very least it's a comfortable ride.

Aside from the fact that JJ has chosen to sit on the floor, his legs extended in front of him so that his feet stop by mine. He absentmindedly taps his shoe against mine every now and then, but every time I glance down at him, he's fully concentrated on rolling the joint held between his fingertips.

The proximity isn't what discomforts me. Not even the subtle bumps to my foot against mine unnerve me as much as the bare nonchalance that he displays while going about it. It's as if he isn't even fully aware, like it's a habit. I calmly fight the urge to push him away.

When he finally decides to look towards me, his tongue is darting across the rolling paper. His eyes widen slightly as the merest look of surprise crosses his features, not having been aware of my sparse glances until now. Upon realizing, though, the corners of his lips twitch up into a smile, mischievous yet silent. Meant only for me.

I roll my eyes weakly, though annoyance isn't quite what I'm feeling. If anything, watching the cheekiness behind his expression feels amusing now, which I'm not sure has ever been the case before.

The car stops and Kiara shuffles out of the passenger seat. As she walks away, John B gives her a poor attempt at reassurance - encouraging her not to worry.

Her response should be telling enough. She scoffs amusedly at him as she states very clearly that it isn't herself who she's worried about. She then glances back towards me and gives me a communicative smirk, almost as if saying, Good luck! You'll need it— right before she walks off to initiate the plan.

"Let's hope this works," John B mutters, drumming pesteringly on the steering wheel.

To be fair, I'll be the first to admit that I tend to appreciate taking the easy way out. If there's a way to avoid overcomplicating a plan, of course I'll take it. This, however, doesn't appear to be too structurally crafted.

As Kiara keeps the security guard distracted by having him help her with a flat tire, we're left to quietly sneak out of the car and rush to make it into the yard before the fence closes.

At the very least, JJ seems to know his way around. He leads us directly to the storage room, rushing towards the securely locked door and fumbling to pull out a small piece of paper from his pocket.

He struggles with the lock, putting the numbers from the paper into the combination. When he yanks at it forcefully a few times, it becomes abundantly clear to me that he has the wrong code.

"Do you have the right numbers?" Pope asks him hurriedly.

"Alright, so I might have the wrong numbers," he drops the lock in defeat, glancing down at the paper with a faint pout on his lips.

Agitation washes over me as I frown, turning to him with an icy coldness. I should have expected this. To some degree, I'm sure that I did. His demeanor had just been so confident when he announced he had the code - the solution. Perhaps, I was so desperate to stumble upon a quick resolution that I took his confidence and ran blindly with it, wanting to believe it was enough.

It wasn't, clearly.

Echoed barks that rapidly approach suddenly have me whipping my head in their direction— You've got to be joking.