liii. 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐣𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐢𝐧𝐠

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//chapter fifty-three• some major DIY-ing

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//chapter fifty-three
• some major DIY-ing


WHAT HAPPENS AFTER one's friends find El Dorado, one gets kidnapped by their real dad, his sister's dad dies, and her boyfriend's dad dies, and eight teenagers end up with a sack full of gold? Well, first, they catch a ride back home from New Jersey, and then they sleep for like... three weeks. And when they finally get back, they make peace with the fam. Unless they're the Carreras. But, after all the lose ends are tied up... the gold.

Money. A whole lot of money.

"Moment of truth." John B shoves a credit card into the vending machine and clears his throat. "Alright, pin is zero, zero, zero, zero. Enter."

Sarah frowns. "You're kidding."

"What?"

"Tell me that's a temporary pin." Kie adds, equally unimpressed.

John B hesitates, looking around. "...Well I just thought nobody would guess it-"

"You need to change that." Pope cut in, pointing his finger to make a point.

"Immediately." Andrew agreed.

The old as dirt ATM machine began to print the receipt as John B apologized for his shitty ability to think of pin numbers.

"Here it comes." As soon as it popped out, JJ snatched it, and John B tried to fight him for it. "That's me, that's me! Lemme read it!"

"Hey!"

"Hey, hey, hey-"

The girls tried to stop their rough housing to no avail and John B snatched the receipt back like an animal wrestling for food. He stopped in front a row of shelves, shielding the paper from JJ, specifically.

"It's not the money, it's the receipt for fuck's sake." Andrew snapped at their ridiculous behavior.

"Okay. Okay," John B unfolded and unwrinkled the paper. "Our joint account balance... after paying JJ's restitution at 10:04 a.m. on Tuesday..."

"Oh come on!" Cleo exclaimed. "Get on with it!"

"Our joint account balance is... one point one million, seventy-two thousand, five hundred and forty nine dollars."

"You said mil?"

"Million?"

"Um-"

"With an M?" Pope was flabbergasted out of words. "That'll do it."

"That'll do it!"

They erupted into cheers.

The Pogues' cheers echoed across the room, filling the air with an energy they hadn't felt in months. The staggering amount in their joint account felt surreal—one point one million dollars. For a group of kids who had grown up scraping by, this was life-changing.

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