The Stupidest Thing I've Ever Done

Part 9

 I shook my head. "No way. He didn't have a clue who he was dealing with. If he knew he was chasing Tryer Thompson and Cassiopeia Sharp he would have called the police way back at Rockets."

She chuckled at the ground, still sounding nervous. I could tell she was still on edge from what we had just gotten away with. I didn't blame her one bit. I was still suspecting the Manger Man to come rolling down the alleyway, his face as red as a hot Cheeto, and wheezing about how he was calling our parents right away.

"I can't believe..." she trailed off, her full sentence never fully getting past her brain. I would never actually know what she wanted to say, but I could guess. Starting around fifth grade we had this ability to read each other's minds. I will never be able to explain it, we just know. So she didn't need to finish, because I already knew what she wanted to say.

She couldn't believe we weren't riding in the back of a cop car. She couldn't believe we'd be sleeping in our houses tonight and not in a scummy jail cell. She couldn't believe we'd have this story to hold onto and laugh about years and years down the road.

"I know," I said.

Then I added, "I think I ripped my pants."

She grabbed my shoulders and made me turn around, howling with laughter when she saw my exposed leg.

I wheeled around, my hands flying to my backside instinctively.

"Is it that bad?"

"Oh my God!" Cass cried. Her arms were wrapped around her ribs, and the corners of her eyes were beading with tears. "Your mom is going to kill you!"

She only laughed harder when she saw me spinning around like a dog after its tail when I tried to look down at the rip. I felt pretty ridiculous doing it, and somehow we ended up leaning on each other, trying not to snort while laughing.   

Our laughter was forced to die down after someone from an apartment yelled down at us.

I took off my sweatshirt and tied it around my waist. I slung one arm around Cass, and she slug one around me. The lawn chair bumped my ribs as we started walking away from the store, and back towards home.

"My mom is seriously going to kill me," I spoke, only looking at the apartments and shops in front of me. I thought about how the conversation would go, and how I'd explain what happened without sounding like a criminal. "These are my only jeans."

"Yeah," said Cass. "Let's get some ice cream before she does, though."

I looked at her.

I wondered what will happen after these last few summers we had left in Sutton, and if she was going to miss it just as much as I would. I wondered if we'd always be best friends. Even when we go off to college, and if we'd have kids of our own who'd be attached at the hip. Who'd lie to us and their fathers about where they were going, who'd sneak out of their bedrooms at midnight to eat candy bars on the roof of the school, and who'd be ripping their pants running away from a drive-in movie theater manager.

Cass smiled, answering my question without moving her lips.