her arms like a big, crippled dog and waddled down the dark sidewalk like a pregnant penguin.
For the next three and a half hours, Kristen hid behind the shrub next to the service gate and studied the instructions the Witty Committee had left in the outside pocket of her backpack. They weren’t complicated. In fact, their simplicity was brilliant.
As her legs cramped from crouching and her stomach grumbled from a Ziploc dinner of milkless Lucky Charms (for luck), Kristen thought—fleetingly—about bailing. She was not a rule breaker by nature. Sure, she wore cute clothes behind her mother’s back and let the PC copy her homework, but nothing illegal. Ever! Yet here she was, about to trespass and vandalize. In a place she loved going to with Massie and the Blocks. And that should have made her feel awkward and uneasy, like she had in those boy clothes. But for some reason it didn’t. Instead it felt:
A) Exhilarating.
B) Daring.
C) Empowering.
D) Romantic.
E) All of the above.
It felt like she was about to face
her
mega-wave and find out what she was made of. After years of hiding behind Massie, her mother, her homework, and her soccer coach, Kristen was ready times ten for the answer.
“Ripple, come awn!” Dune’s terse whisper cut through the muggy summer night like a beautifully polished knife through red velvet cake—bringing her one step closer to pure heaven.
Kristen brushed the dirt off her butt and stood. Why get caught in the poop-in-the-woods position unless it was absolutely necessary? Which it wasn’t. The staff had left over twenty minutes ago and the club was deserted.
Tyler, Jax, and Scooter shuffled along a few paces behind Dune, their hands stuffed in the pockets of their skinny jeans and their shoulders slumped toward the dirt road. Ripple, a few paces behind them, was teetering on platform espadrilles, texting and chew-snapping a wad of brown Bubblicious.
“Ahhhh, smell that?” Dune sniffed the lobster bisque–scented air.
Kristen giggled, to show Dune she was ready to have fun despite their risky agenda.
“It’s the sweet smell of revenge.” He put his arm around her shoulders, then quickly removed it. The brief contact was enough to make the ends of her straight blond hair curl.
“I thought it was Jax,” Tyler chuckled.
“What?”
Jax whisper-screeched.
“Sucker punch!” Tyler nudged him with his black plaster cast.
“Shhhhh.” Kristen lifted her French manicured nail to her lips, casually showing off her flawless home job.
Ripple popped a bubble against her glossy mouth.
Kristen glared at her, making it perfectly clear who was running this operation. Ripple gently peeled the gum off her face and tossed the wad in the bushes.
Kristen let the un-green gesture slide and continued whispering. “Security patrols the grounds constantly. But there are only two guys, and it takes them exactly nineteen minutes to walk the periphery,” she explained, having memorized the Witty Committee’s instructions. “Which means we have to get in and get out—fast.”
Dune grin-nodded, then turned to look at his friends in an I-told-you-she-was-cool sort of way.
And that gave Kristen the strength to continue playing alpha even though the position hadn’t officially been handed to her yet.
“There are five valves that control the sprinkler system. They are located to the right of the laundry room.” She pointed at the white woodshed about fifty yards away. “I’ll dump the color crystals in the water tank—on my cue, you turn the dials. And if all goes well”—Kristen paused for dramatic emphasis—“the
green
will be
pink
by morning.”
“Genius!” Dune punched the starry sky.
“Cool.” Tyler and Jax snickered.
Even Scooter allowed himself to smile. But Ripple ignored them all and kept texting.
“Why are you here if you’re not going to pay attention?” Kristen hissed in Ripple’s faux diamond–studded ear.
“My tutor-sitter was fired today and my dad is
For the next three and a half hours, Kristen hid behind the shrub next to the service gate and studied the instructions the Witty Committee had left in the outside pocket of her backpack. They weren’t complicated. In fact, their simplicity was brilliant.
As her legs cramped from crouching and her stomach grumbled from a Ziploc dinner of milkless Lucky Charms (for luck), Kristen thought—fleetingly—about bailing. She was not a rule breaker by nature. Sure, she wore cute clothes behind her mother’s back and let the PC copy her homework, but nothing illegal. Ever! Yet here she was, about to trespass and vandalize. In a place she loved going to with Massie and the Blocks. And that should have made her feel awkward and uneasy, like she had in those boy clothes. But for some reason it didn’t. Instead it felt:
A) Exhilarating.
B) Daring.
C) Empowering.
D) Romantic.
E) All of the above.
It felt like she was about to face
her
mega-wave and find out what she was made of. After years of hiding behind Massie, her mother, her homework, and her soccer coach, Kristen was ready times ten for the answer.
“Ripple, come awn!” Dune’s terse whisper cut through the muggy summer night like a beautifully polished knife through red velvet cake—bringing her one step closer to pure heaven.
Kristen brushed the dirt off her butt and stood. Why get caught in the poop-in-the-woods position unless it was absolutely necessary? Which it wasn’t. The staff had left over twenty minutes ago and the club was deserted.
Tyler, Jax, and Scooter shuffled along a few paces behind Dune, their hands stuffed in the pockets of their skinny jeans and their shoulders slumped toward the dirt road. Ripple, a few paces behind them, was teetering on platform espadrilles, texting and chew-snapping a wad of brown Bubblicious.
“Ahhhh, smell that?” Dune sniffed the lobster bisque–scented air.
Kristen giggled, to show Dune she was ready to have fun despite their risky agenda.
“It’s the sweet smell of revenge.” He put his arm around her shoulders, then quickly removed it. The brief contact was enough to make the ends of her straight blond hair curl.
“I thought it was Jax,” Tyler chuckled.
“What?”
Jax whisper-screeched.
“Sucker punch!” Tyler nudged him with his black plaster cast.
“Shhhhh.” Kristen lifted her French manicured nail to her lips, casually showing off her flawless home job.
Ripple popped a bubble against her glossy mouth.
Kristen glared at her, making it perfectly clear who was running this operation. Ripple gently peeled the gum off her face and tossed the wad in the bushes.
Kristen let the un-green gesture slide and continued whispering. “Security patrols the grounds constantly. But there are only two guys, and it takes them exactly nineteen minutes to walk the periphery,” she explained, having memorized the Witty Committee’s instructions. “Which means we have to get in and get out—fast.”
Dune grin-nodded, then turned to look at his friends in an I-told-you-she-was-cool sort of way.
And that gave Kristen the strength to continue playing alpha even though the position hadn’t officially been handed to her yet.
“There are five valves that control the sprinkler system. They are located to the right of the laundry room.” She pointed at the white woodshed about fifty yards away. “I’ll dump the color crystals in the water tank—on my cue, you turn the dials. And if all goes well”—Kristen paused for dramatic emphasis—“the
green
will be
pink
by morning.”
“Genius!” Dune punched the starry sky.
“Cool.” Tyler and Jax snickered.
Even Scooter allowed himself to smile. But Ripple ignored them all and kept texting.
“Why are you here if you’re not going to pay attention?” Kristen hissed in Ripple’s faux diamond–studded ear.
“My tutor-sitter was fired today and my dad is
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