The brick skids for a moment on the broken glass, then comes to a halt against one of the mahogany dinner chairs. The chair, obeying Newton's third law of motion, topples over with a crash onto the tiled kitchen floor of the neighborhood mansion.

I had managed to act quite cool until then: I had laughed along with my brother and his friends as they had spray painted their gang names on the park benches and smashed the neighbors' mail boxes. I had stood by, and lent encouragement, as they dared Kevin to sprint after the police car waving a cap pistol. I had even managed to nag on Logan as he crossed the dam seconds before the water discharged over the walkway.

"C'mon, Kasey, you're not scared, are ya?" Cooper had mocked, "All ya gotta do is toss this brick through the Kristonson's window. That's nottin' compared to Trey's," Cooper smirked, and Logan soon joined him. Both boys guffawed while Trey swung his hulky fist at them and yelled "Fuck you! Fuck you to hell!"

With a booming "SHUT-UP!" from Kevin, Trey stuffed his fists in his pockets and Logan covered his grinning face with a paint-smeared hand. Cooper continued, "Anyway Kase, just chuck it through the window. We'll wait for ya down the road a bit, don't wanna get in the way of the action, ya know?" Logan tossed me the brick, hitting me mercilessly in the gut. I doubled over, clutching the hardened clay against me, and groaned a little, feeling its sharp edges prodding through my thin T-shirt. When the pain had ebbed away, I stood up and saw the three of them loitering calmly under a streetlight, staring pointedly at me.

"You just want a quick escape route," I muttered aloud. Taking a deep breath, I balanced the brick in my right hand and heaved.