Lynnianna Keating.
That name to most means royalty. But to her it meant nothing. Lynni hated the way she was. Being a Kook was torture. Fancy parties, big houses. Not her forte. So, how does a Kook change the way her life is? She befriends a pogue...
THE TWINKIE RUMBLED THROUGH THE DARK, its tires crunching over the gravel and dried mud as it bounced along the dirt road, while the headlights cut through the night in jittery beams, flickering over twisted tree trunks and low-hanging Spanish moss.
Inside, the air was thick with tension and excitement. No one spoke.
Lynni sat motionless on the floor, one hand pressed firmly on the ground, the other clutching her backpack strap tightly. Her eyes stayed locked on her black converses, blinking slowly each time the van jolted. The rhythm of the bumps kept time with her heartbeat, fast and steady.
JJ sat next to Lynni on the floor closest to the bench seat, his head resting against the side of the van, his hands in his lap as he spun his vape between his middle finger and thumb. His jaw was tight, eyes closed. Kiara sat on the small seat behind John B, arms crossed, her foot tapping lightly on the floor. Sarah sat next to Pope on the bench seat, her eyes dancing on the scenery outside as they made their way toward the Crain house. Pope clutched a piece of paper in his lap, lit faintly by the moonlight filtering through the glass, his eyes scanning the list of their supplies, mentally checking everything off over and over again.
John B's hands were firm on the wheel, knuckles white. His jaw was set, eyes locked on the path as if staring hard enough would make the house rise up from the trees faster.
The van rocked hard as it dipped into a deep rut, sending everyone slightly airborne before landing with a jolt that rattled the frame. Dust spilled in through a cracked window, curling in the beams of the dashboard lights.
Suddenly, John B's voice broke the silence as they crossed the bridge, the Crain house slowly emerging from the trees.
"Alright, you guys got rope?" "Got it." "Grappling hook?" "We don't have a grappling hook, we aren't Batman." "Pulley?" "Check." "Dark clothes?" "Absolutely." "Flashlight?" "Check." "Alright, good."
"Let's go get rich, guys." JJ said, a smile stretched across his face as he clutched the rope in his hands.
Outside, the woods grew thicker. The night darker.
Up ahead, barely visible between the trees, stood the outline of the Crain house
The van rolled to a quiet stop on the side of the road, gravel crunching against the tires before John B put it in park. He killed the engine, and it was quiet for a beat before he climbed out and appeared at the side to open the sliding door, exposing everyone to how dark it really was outside.
