Until We Meet Again(2)

higher on the other side, and those bushes will break your fall.”

“Nice,” I say, impressed. “You have a lot of experience breaking into private property?”

“Yeah, except we usually go for cash and high-value items.

Breaking in to go swimming should be a nice change of pace.”

I smirk and he gives me a Mr. Teen USA wink.

“All right then,” I say. “Hoist me up.”

Brandon steps in between us. “Are we seriously doing this?

You know, your stepdad’s house has a huge private beach. If

you want to swim so badly, can’t we go there?”

“You’re missing the point, Brandon.”

“You never explained the point.”

“Only a fool asks to understand that which cannot be

grasped,” I say, pretending to quote some ancient philosopher.

Travis blinks. “Dude. That was deep.”

“I know, right?” I turn back to Brandon. “See? He gets it.”

“This is really stupid,” Brandon says, unamused.

I pull out my phone. “So, I guess you don’t want to be in the

group shot then?”

Travis comes to my side and puts his arm around me. “Sweet!

Selfie time.”

I hold out my phone, and he and I make an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up pose.

Brandon folds his arms impatiently across his chest. “Can we

get on with this?”

“Well, look who’s eager to have some fun,” I say, giving him a

hearty slap on the back. “About time you came aboard.”

Brandon shakes his head and holds out his interlocked hands.

Travis stands across from him. Together, they form the perfect

ladder. Pushing off of their shoulders, I reach for the top of the

fence. One push and my leg tips over the edge.

“Got it!” I shout. Perched on the top of the wall, I survey my

target. The pool is lit, even with the Andersons away for the

week, and it gleams an appealing turquoise blue in the dark

night. If I had time and my stuff, I’d paint the scene. For now,

however, an immersive, performance-art type of scenario will

have to suffice.

“Let’s do this,” I say, hopping onto the grass below. I land

firmly on my feet and unlatch the side gate.

Brandon remains frozen at the threshold. “Cass…”

“Let me guess. You don’t think this is such a good idea.”

Travis laughs. “Seriously, dude, don’t be such a pansy.”

He starts through the gate when Brandon grabs his arm.

“Trav. You know why we can’t.”

Travis says nothing, but a shadow crosses his expression. I

frown. “What?”

When Travis doesn’t reply, Brandon exhales. “We could go

to jail.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic—”

“No, seriously. We’re both…kind of on probation.”

He officially has my attention. “Explain.”

Travis shakes his head. “It’s not that big of a deal. Brandon’s

freaking out.”

“Then tell me,” I say.

His eyes shift away from mine. “It was me and Brandon and

some of the guys from the lacrosse team. One night a few weeks

ago, we were a little drunk. It was late. And we sort of…broke

into a liquor store.”

Brandon scrambles to explain before I can react. “It wasn’t

my idea. We never would have done it—it was really stupid,

okay? Anyway, we got caught, but Austin’s dad pulled some

strings and got us off with a warning.”

I nod slowly. “I see. So, you got Daddums to skirt the law

for you?”

“It’s not like that,” Travis says, but I can tell he’s really

embarrassed.

Brandon sighs. “I can’t get into trouble. I’ve got a lacrosse

scholarship on the line, and my parents would murder me if I

screwed that up. Trav’s the same.”

I’m not sure which is more irritating, the sham justice system

in these ritzy areas or the fact that there’s actually a legitimate

reason to cut our little excursion short.

I fold my arms. “So after all this, we’re leaving?”

“I never said that,” Travis says, defensive.

Brandon glares. “Don’t be an idiot, Trav. It’s not worth it.”

I can tell by the look Brandon gives Travis that he actually

means I’m not worth it. Irritation flares up in me.

“Well, I haven’t come all this way to wuss out now. You boys

and your lacrosse scholarships are free to go back home.”

“Fine,” Brandon says. “I’m out of here.”

He storms off without a glance back. Travis lingers, but I can

tell he’s seen the error of his ways and wants to go as well.

“Go ahead and leave,” I say. “I’m over the fence. I don’t need

you anymore.”

Travis sighs. “Brandon’s right. We should probably get out