When a shy girl from Figure Eight suddenly gets whisked into a dangerous treasure hunt involving four pogues known for their knack for trouble, she finds herself navigating not only the troubled waters of adventure but also the complexities of frien...
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Sydney liked shopping—she was a Kook, after all. She enjoyed the effortless swipe of her dad's credit card, the freedom of buying without a second thought, never worrying about consequences. There was a thrill in it, a rush that came with watching her closet fill up, and the excitement of finding stacks of parcels at her doorstep after indulging in yet another unnecessary online spree.
But none of that, not the endless clothes or designer bags, compared to the surge of adrenaline that hit her when Kiara emerged from the mausoleum, holding something far more valuable than anything money could buy: an old, weathered FedEx package with the words "For Bird" scrawled across it.
The look of hope that lit up John B's face in that moment was more fulfilling than any joy Sydney had ever felt for herself.
Pope, ever the pessimist, sighed the moment his eyes landed on the package. "That's not gold," he muttered, clearly disappointed.
Sydney quickly shushed him, wanting to let John B have his moment. As he stood there, staring at the worn parcel, an expression of disbelief and hope flickered across his face. "Holy shit," he whispered, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "This is from my dad."
The group of four huddled closer, exchanging warm soft smiles as they shared John B's quiet joy. Meanwhile, a few steps behind them, JJ stood slightly apart, preoccupied with trying to light his blunt again, the flicker of the flame casting soft shadows across his face.
JJ took a long hit from his blunt, exhaling lazily into the night air, when a sudden sound caught his attention. His eyes flicked up, and his relaxed posture tensed instantly as he spotted the unmistakable glow of headlights approaching. Panic flashed across his face as he straightened up. "Code red! Code red!" he blurted, his voice rising in urgency. "Square groupers! Square groupers!"
The alarm in his voice snapped the rest of them out of their moment of shared relief. Instantly, they scattered, adrenaline kicking in as they rushed around the side of the mausoleum, seeking cover. "Go! Go! Go!" JJ urged, his voice low but frantic as they ducked behind the crumbling stone.
"Light!" Kiara whispered sharply, reminding the boys that their lights were still on, casting unwanted beacons in the night.
John B, startled by the urgency, fumbled with the lantern, his hands trembling slightly as he struggled to find the switch. In a panic, he finally shoved it up his shirt, the faint glow now dimly illuminating his torso.
JJ, on the other hand, was too distracted with putting out his blunt, oblivious to the beam from his headlamp still shining into the darkness. Pope, realizing the danger, quickly reached over, clamping his hand over the light. "Turn your light off, man!" Pope hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"John B, your light!" Kiara urged again, her voice tight with frustration. This time, John B finally managed to click the lantern off, plunging them into the safety of darkness.
