Unsung

Chapter Sixty-One

 "I can't believe we're doing this," I whispered, my eyes darting from building to building as we drove along the deserted streets a little after midnight.

"Hey, this was your idea," McKayla said, glancing at me from the driver's seat of her sleek, black BMW. "Don't tell me you're going chicken shit now."

My mouth dropped open in shock. "This was not my idea. I just went along with it," I argued, embarrassed by how loose my argument was. It may not have been my idea, but I'd still be charged with a felony if we were caught. "It's just that, now that we're out here, I'm not sure if breaking into the institute is such a good idea."

"I am," McKayla said resolutely.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked her in awe.

"Because Cain is innocent and we need to prove that. Right now, the way to do that is by getting inside that building. Ergo, good idea."

"No, I mean, how can you be so sure of yourself all the time?" I asked her. I wasn't trying to offend her—not that I thought she was capable of being offended by anyone—but it was one of McKayla's traits that boggled my mind the most.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, you just never second-guess yourself, do you? Like, you just know you're right all the time," I said, wondering what it would be like to feel the same.

"Because I usually am," she said easily.

"See? That's what I'm talking about!" I exclaimed. "Where does that confidence come from? You can't possibly be right all the time. It's the law of averages. So, what about the times that you're wrong? What do you do then? How do you deal with having that on your conscience?"

McKayla seemed to think about this for a minute, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song blaring from the speakers. Just when I thought she wasn't going to answer, she turned down the volume and looked over at me.

"You've heard the phrase, 'Whether you think you can, or you think you can't, you're right,' no?" she asked me.

"Henry Ford said that," I supplied, nodding.

"Well, I agree with him," she said plainly.

I blinked at her as she turned back to the road, satisfied with her response. I, however, was not.

"So, you just believe you're right and you are?" I asked her, stunned.

"Kind of," McKayla said. When she saw the look on my face, she sighed loudly and continued. "Look, most people are indecisive because of fear. Your whole, 'Is this right?', 'Should I go to this school or that school?', 'Is he the one?' crap is just your fear holding you hostage. And I am not going to be fear's bitch. It holds you back from doing stuff. I believe that if you never go for something, you'll never succeed. So, by making a decision and sticking with it, I'm upping my chances at winning."

My head felt like it was swimming, and not just from our impending break-in. "Your chances at winning...at life?" I asked, my brows furrowed.

"Exactly," she answered. "Bottom line, Kida: Over the years, I've just learned to trust myself. My instincts. If I turn out to be wrong later, so what? Experience has taught me that most things are fixable. And I trust myself enough to fix them."

I wasn't sure if McKayla was a genius or completely delusional, but I decided I wasn't going to figure it out tonight.

Especially since the car was slowing down and I could see that we were only a few blocks away from the institute. Having already considered the conversation finished, McKayla pulled off a side street and parked her car in front of a row of darkened houses. The inhabitants were probably all asleep, either comfortably or restlessly. At this moment, I would've taken either one over what we were about to do.

We stepped out of McKayla's car and into the night air. The wind was blowing hard, causing my hair to whip around my face erratically, but in true Southern California form, it was still warm. I pulled the strands back and twisted the whole lot of it up into a knot at the back of my head. Then, I hid everything under a beanie for good measure.

McKayla pressed the lock button on her keychain and a loud beep rang out in the night, causing me to jump. McKayla saw this and shook her head while smirking.

"Everything's gonna be aces," McKayla insisted as she zipped up her hoodie, leaving her braided blonde hair trapped between it and her back.

"Is your gut telling you that?" I asked, sarcastically.

"What else?" she said and started walking away.