We had to get out of there. There were two exits in the cafeteria: the main door - which would be locked - and the window Finn and I came in through. Stepping up onto the table under the window, I came to the realization that I could not reach the ledge without help. Usually, Finn just boosts me from my knees so I can grab onto the edge without even thinking about it. I waited a second to feel his arms around my legs, but nothing came. "Finn?" I say.
"Yeah?" he whispers from the kitchen, eating from a butterscotch pudding cup.
"What are you doing in there!?" I hiss, in disbelief. "We're gonna get caught!"
As if on queue, the janitor's footsteps grow louder.
And I can see fear for only a split second in Finn's eyes as he comes to recognize the imminent danger before being replaced by what I could have sworn was a smirk and a wink.
He has a plan, I tell myself. He has a plan, now what's yours?
I duck under the table just in time, as Gurveer rounds the corner pushing a mop bucket. "Hello?" he calls. "Anyone in here?"
As if. Even the crappiest criminal to ever stroll the streets wouldn't give themselves away because they were asked politely.
I stay silent, and to my relief and satisfaction, so does Finn.
Where is Finn?
Just as I was mentally admiring his disapparation, an obnoxiously loud crash echoes through the dead cafeteria.
"Hey, who's there?" Gurveer demands, brandishing his mop like a sword.
Nothing. I hold my breath as Gurveer creeps into the kitchen. "What the hell?!" he gasps.
Oh Lord, I say to myself. Goddamned Finn. This is it for us.
"Fucking rats in here," Gurveer mumbles. "Always knocking things over."
From my hiding place under the table, I don't have a very good view of what's happening in the kitchen across the room. I can't see the janitor, and I can only hope Finn is hiding sufficiently.
More muttering and cursing is all I hear from the kitchen as Gurveer cleans up whatever mess Finn had made. It's an agonizing few minutes while I wait, teeth clenched, for the coast to be clear. To my relief, Gurveer whistles out of the kitchen and out of the cafeteria before too long. I count to sixty just to be safe before snaking out from under the table.
We almost got caught, I think while tiptoeing across the cafeteria. That could very well have been the end of mine and Finn's entire misadventure. Now where the hell is he hiding?
I open every cupboard in the kitchen, to no success. Where else could he be? I even check in the oven, and then in the fridge. Sure enough, Finn is in the refrigerator, a spoon and three empty pudding cups in his hands. "Boo," he whispers, and we erupt into giggles.
"You idiot!" I hiss. "You could have gotten us caught!"
"Exciting, huh?" Finn smirks. He unfolds himself out of the industrial-size fridge and because nothing ever seems to go right for us, he knocks over a family-size pickle jar.
I see it fall in slow motion. It tumbles through the air, and I dive but not quickly enough. With a deafening crash, the jar shatters and pickles fly everywhere.
I look at Finn, and he looks at me. We both look at the puddle of pickle water on the ground between us. "Shit."
