9Michael and Dylan hadn't taken ten steps away from Tiffany Blair's front door when the latter stopped suddenly—something was amiss. Her tenseness conveyed this tacitly to Michael, who could only wonder how on earth Dylan could pick up foul play when they were on a street surrounded by loud music, flashing decorations, and drunk people running around yelling. Dylan ducked behind the next house and motioned for Michael to do the same before pointing to the guard's block by the gate.
"See that? He's way too still in there. He's not conscious."
"How can you be sure from here?"
"I'm sure."
Well, okay then. Michael raised an eyebrow as Dylan crouched down and pulled a small hunting knife from her sock, and the two of them walked stealthily towards the gate. Sufficient cover was provided by the Halloween atmosphere; there were a couple of cops at the end of the block, but they seemed a tad distracted by the goings-on in a nearby house, where through closed blinds, one could see the silhouettes of teenage girls taking their tops off. Michael felt inclined to stop and look herself, but Dylan grabbed her by the arm and drug her along for a few feet to get a point across. Once they had reached the gate, Dylan squinted across the street at Jenna's car. Neither Taylor nor Jenna was in sight, when they were supposed to have been sitting on the hood. From what Dylan could see, they weren't even in the car.
"Stay here," she muttered pulling off her shoes, "and for God's sake, don't say or do anything unless you see my dead, mangled body, in which case go get those police over there."
Not terribly comforting words, but they were all Dylan said before she crept across the street. When she made it to Jenna's car, she flattened herself against it and just barely felt something inside the car move ever-so-slightly. She rolled away just in time, because the back door she'd been leaning next to violently swung open. A short but well-muscled man had leapt out, but was unprepared for a knife to the ankle, which is what Dylan was able to give him from her position on the street. He immediately crumpled to the ground next to her, but seeing who had attacked him, he slammed the car door shut and grabbed Dylan's leg. They were engaged in a quick but surprisingly quiet scuffle—from her view by the gate, Michael was sure Dylan was going to lose when she was thrown onto her back and the thug knelt over her with a substantially bigger knife than hers in hand. But in a move Michael thought she'd never see outside of a kung-fu movie, Dylan jerked her leg up almost far enough so that her knee was pressing her chin, and used her foot to kick up at the guy's stomach. He was sent sailing over her head, where he landed on the street loud enough that Michael was able to hear it. Dylan kicked him over onto his stomach, got to her feet, and jammed one onto his spine. She pulled both his arms back, then leaned down and said something to him Michael couldn't make out. A moment later, Dylan dropped the man's arms, and he lay totally still.
Michael was just starting to wonder if anyone else would come out when someone suddenly grabbed her by the arm.
"Don't scream or say a word," the man breathed into her ear. "You just tell me who the hell you are, and what you're doing on this street."
Instead of responding, Michael pulled a gun out of her dress pocket and rammed him over the head with it. He keeled over face-first into the grass, and Michael scanned the area quickly to see if any friends of his might be there. Nope, not that she could see… nobody was over by the gate to see what had happened, either. Too much partying going on down the block. Still feeling a bit shaky, Michael picked up her bag from the man's unclenched hand (he must've taken it when she was watching Dylan), and got to her feet. From what she could tell, nobody else had tried attacking Dylan, because she was in the back seat of the car with the door open. Before crossing the street to join her, Michael bent down and took a gun off the man she had just knocked out.
Jenna was lying across the back seat with her head in Dylan's lap, and Dylan was trying in vain to wake her up.
"What happened?" Michael whispered.
"Dunno," Dylan said, sparing her a glance. Nodding at the unconscious man on the sidewalk she said, "This clown tried to jump me, but I got the better of him. He said he had two buddies with him, one of 'em took Taylor and the other's down the block somewhere."
"Yeah," Michael said, waving a gun. "I just met him."
"What the—what…where'd you get those?" Dylan asked.
"One of Tiffany's guards leant me this one," she said. "I don't think he meant for me to keep it, but we left so fast we both forgot. And this one I took off a guy who just tried to attack me." If she wasn't so worried about what was happening, she might have sounded a bit more proud of herself for so successfully ditching an attacker.
Likewise Dylan was impressed, but didn't feel this was the proper time to talk about it. She went back to trying to stir Jenna, and after a slightly harder slap to the cheek, Jenna squinted and opened her eyes.
"—the hell?! I'm awake, stop hitting me!"
"Jenna, quick, tell us what happened."
She sat up slowly and tried resting her weight on her arm before it buckled and she nearly fell to the car floor. Dylan grabbed her by the jacket and yanked her into a sitting position on the seat. Jenna shook her head wearily and said, "Taylor and I were on the hood, keeping a lookout. We felt okay because there were a couple of cops at the end of the street, and only an idiot would try and pick a fight under a cop's nose. Then one of the cops came over and it was Rose—Officer Billings, you know, and she recognized me. She wanted to know what two young girls like us were doing outside Tiffany Blair's little gated community on Halloween night."
"Did you tell her?" Michael asked.
"No, I'm not an idiot. Of course, I couldn't actually think of a fake answer to give her, so maybe I am. Taylor explained we were there to make fun of all of Tiffany's rejects that came out, and there was a steady parade of them, let me tell you. The other cops went inside the community and never came back…and then these guys jumped Rose, six of them, they came out of nowhere. Rose was out, and Taylor and I managed to get rid of two of them before I blacked out… and here we are."
"Michael got one of them," Dylan said. "Took a gun off him, too. Do you think they were Stefano's?"
"Who else would they work for?"
"Wait, I don't think they work for Stefano," Michael said. The two girls looked at her expectantly, and she held up her guns. "This is the one I got from one of Tiffany's guards, who you said worked for Stefano, and it's a Glock 17. This is the one I took off the guy I just knocked out—I thought it was a Glock, too, but now that I'm looking at it, it's an S&W Sigma."
"Are you sure?" Dylan asked, taking the Sigma.
"Yeah, it's a two-tone pistol. Glock doesn't make those."
"You think it's likely Stefano's guys would all have the same type of weapon?" Dylan asked (Jenna, not Michael).
Jenna nodded. "Yup. Good work, Michael. The thing is, whoever those guys were probably knew we were in here after Tiffany—so they must be connected to Stefano somehow, right?"
"Actually now that I think about it, maybe they're clients," Dylan muttered. "That guy on the ground right there—all muscle, no skill at all. I had him in like, thirty seconds. And if Michael could take one out, I mean, come on—um, no offense, Mike."
Michael sighed. "None taken."
Dylan was about to suggest that they drive away when a cop car came squealing around the corner, lights flashing but no siren going. Jenna sat up a little straighter, and Dylan got out of the car to give her room to do the same. "That can't be them, can it?" Dylan whispered. She gently took the two guns from Michael's hands and lay them on the floor of the car—she didn't feel like handing them over to the police quite yet, and they would probably lead to some uncomfortable questions, anyway.
Much to their surprise, when the car came to a screeching halt next to them, it was in fact Rose Billings who jumped out of the driver's seat. Instantly Michael could tell why Jenna seemed to be smitten with this woman: she was broad-shouldered yet not too intimidatingly tall, a short and tight ponytail, and a chiseled face with intensely masculine features and a mannish walk that Michael could only assume would cause the toughest criminal to quake in his boots. Dylan and Michael stepped aside just in time for the officer to pull Jenna into a rather amorous kiss. The redhead returned it more than wholeheartedly, but before their affections could turn into an X-rated movie, Rose broke it off to speak.
"Baby, I was so worried they'd done something to you," she whispered, holding Jenna in a dangerously tight embrace. "I don't know what I'd have done if they'd really hurt you."
"I'll be okay," Jenna said weakly, though her arm felt almost like it'd never be of use to her again. "How'd you guys get away?"
"Your friend Taylor is a pretty talented fighter," Rose chuckled as Taylor walked over from the police car. "The only thing those thugs had going for them was the element of surprise. Once I came to and they tried transferring us to some kind of facility, Taylor and I got the best of them. They're over at HQ now, and…I see there's another one right here at my feet."
Michael nodded at the gated community. "There's one right in there, as well."
"Perfect, that saves me a lot of work," Rose said as Dylan dutifully went to go pick up the guard Michael had K.O'd. "Jenna, I'm off duty right now, but I'd better get these guys back to the station. You wanna come along for the ride?"
"Only if you'll give me a ride afterwards," was Jenna's all-too-clever response.
Dylan was back and with Taylor's assistance, dumped the would-be assailants into Officer Billings' police vehicle. Rose and Jenna limped over, and with a smirk, Jenna threw her keys to Taylor.
"Fine use of tax payers' money," Taylor whispered.
"What, you mean her buying sex toys for Jenna?" Dylan asked as they got back into Jenna's car, where Michael was already sitting in the backseat. "I tell you, it's sad to see a grown woman pine so hard for a kid like Jenna. She's wasting her time." Taylor did not reply, and after an awkward silence, Dylan fished a cell phone out of her pocket and said "Hey, would you mind taking me to Sun Circle?" and without waiting for a response, dialed a number. "Hey! Willa, where you at? Yeah? Cool…listen, if you want a break, I'm going to be at your house in like five minutes. I want to see what you're wearing. …great. See you soon, then."
A few minutes later, Taylor stopped abruptly outside of a cul-de-sac, and Dylan wordlessly exited the car. "Well," Taylor said as she watched Dylan slouch up the sidewalk. "Get on up here in the front seat, Michael! This ain't no Driving Miss Daisy up in here…" After Michael had done so and they'd started driving again, Taylor answered the question she sensed Michael was too embarrassed to ask. "Willa Fredericks is the most desperate girl any of us knows, and I'm pretty sure Dylan is feeling desperate right about now. She usually gets a rush after doing a job like this, and combined with her time of the month, she is liable to be downright Jenna-level horny. Of course that means they probably won't be going too far, but I digress…"
And Michael did nothing but slide slowly and sadly down in her seat.
Considering that she hadn't gotten in until two a.m., Michael had worried that she'd have to do some explaining to her mother. But as it turned out, she only got in trouble for "forgetting" her cell phone at home—other than that, her mother was pleased that Michael seemed to be social enough to want to stay out that late on Halloween. Everything seemed all right: she had successfully put her father's guns back without anyone noticing, while Taylor had taken the two home that Michael had unexpectedly received the previous night. Now the only loose end to be tied up was Danny… and that also went easier than anticipated.
She saw him at school walking away from his locker when they made eye contact and he awkwardly stopped mid-step. "Hey," she said a little breathlessly, running up to him. "Look, Danny, I wanted to apologize about last night."
He had stayed up quite late trying to figure out how he wanted to react to this statement if Michael made it: did he berate her for leaving so suddenly, and with such a shady-looking guy? Did he act like he didn't care at all? Did he quiz her incessantly? Did he just forgive her? Did he tell her he liked her?
Ultimately, he wound up doing a little of each. "Eh," he said with a shrug. "It's okay, I understand. Things got a little out of hand when Marc spiked the punch, I get it. You seem like a good kid, so…I…yeah, I get why you'd want to get out of there. Not that I think you're lame, or anything! I'm glad you're that way!"
"You're glad that I left…?"
"No, I mean—never mind." They had started walking down the hallway together towards their English class, and after a few moments, Danny cleared his throat. "So. Was that your boyfriend who came and picked you up, or…?"
"Oh—yeah. I mean No. He's just a friend of mine. He's, um… his family lives next door to me, I mean his stepfamily. That's how we know each other. There was this party he really wanted to go to, and I'd promised him I'd go with him before you invited me to yours."
Danny nodded quickly. "Right, yeah, I know I invited you really last minute."
"So you're not upset?"
"Of course not!" He laughed in a would-be casual way, supposing he ought to at least be pleased that Michael was so worried about making good with him. Danny waited for a giggly gang of freshman to pass before giving a loud cough and saying, "So…you're not—"
"Yo, Michael! There you are!"
Feeling a great wave of relief, Michael turned to see Taylor jogging up to her. With an apologetic smile at Danny, Taylor took Michael by the arm and said, "Sorry, dude—principal's been trying to track down our friend here for a couple days now! Don't worry, you're not in trouble, he just wants to make sure you're settling in all right."
"Why'd he send you?" Danny asked. He was one of the few people in the high school who did not think particularly highly of Taylor West.
"He knows we know each other. Anyway, gotta jet!" And Taylor proceeded to march Michael down the hallway. "First of all, you're welcome," she said. "Second of all, yeah, this is a bluff. Jenna and Dylan need to talk to us, and we've conveniently been given access to the principal's office again. Don't worry, we'll get you a note to excuse you for being late to class."
Frankly Michael did feel relieved, because something told her Danny had been about to ask her out—though why he would do so was beyond her. He didn't seem like much of a go-getter, and Michael hadn't been in the district very long. Maybe he was the kind who was desperate to get a girlfriend and she didn't make him want to vomit, so he had settled on her. Considering she would never be interested in him, though, this whole internal debate probably wasn't warranted. Still, it raged inside her head while Taylor smiled and winked at people they passed in the hall until they met up with Jenna and filed into the principal's office. As before, Dylan was sitting in the man's vacated chair and she leaned forward the moment the others had all sat down.
"There's a mini-bar under this man's desk."
Jenna stared at her. "Um…so?"
"That seems highly unethical to me. The man has alcohol on school grounds."
"Look, Dylan, this isn't the time," Jenna waved dismissively. "Let's talk about Operation Stefano. You've found out the address of his place, right?"
Dylan nodded curtly. "679 Diamond Drive, Huntsville, with a hot dog place a few blocks away called Nate's. Going on what Tiffany told me, that's probably where he makes a lot of deals. I say we scope it out before we try any kind of direct attack on his house." She turned to the redhead and in utmost seriousness asked, "Jenna, how would you feel about letting Officer Billings in on the case?"
"This early on? I thought about it, but I dunno…she may suspect something. About us, I mean."
"Look, just tell her you got a hot tip, all right?"
Taylor piped up, "Tell her I did. Stefano's supposed to have been taking girls right out of this school, at least a couple."
"Done," Jenna said. "Rose and I will hit up this hot dog place, hang out there for a while. Taylor, you know how to make hot dogs, right?"
"Grill, baby, grill!"
"Great. Take care of whoever you have to in order to secure a job there for just a day or two. Find out what you can from the people who work there. Don't ask any direct questions, you know, just… get a feel for it." Jenna blew some hair out of her face and looked over at Michael. "You…hm." A long silence followed. "Scratch what I said before, you're going to this hot dog place with Officer Billings. Dylan will be lookout, and I'll be the bait."
"The bait…?" Michael asked slowly.
"Yeah," Jenna sighed. "I'll get Stefano interested in hiring me. Sound good?" Both Taylor and Dylan said "ay," but Michael was still a little bit too shocked at Jenna's plan to sell herself to say anything. "And the majority has it!" Jenna declared. "Great, we'll meet again tomorrow at Taylor's after school's out. Okay? Meeting adjourned."
Dylan got up immediately to exit out of the window again, while Taylor and Michael waited for Jenna to write them late notes. Michael tore back down the hallway to her English classroom, as her teacher Ms. Whitman was very testy when it came to lateness. Most people attributed this to the fact that this was her first year teaching, and she was desperate to stick to the rules in order to secure tenure. She was a cool teacher, but at times too much a stickler to the rules (however most students, particularly the guys, were willing to overlook this on account of the fact that even objectively speaking, she was extremely hot). Once Michael finally reached the classroom, heaving deep breaths and with a stitch in her side, she was almost annoyed to discover that Ms. Whitman wasn't there yet and everyone was just gabbing.
"Hey, Michael!" Danny called out, waving her to an empty desk near him and some friends. "C'mon, we only have to wait five more minutes and then we can leave if she's not here yet!"
It was not technically a school rule that students could ditch class if their teacher had not shown up during the first ten minutes, but usually enough kids were willing to take the chance that the rule had basically become unspoken law. Even after only having been at the school for a couple of months, Ms. Whitman knew this as well, which is why she grunted in frustration at her watch as she stood by the trunk of her car in the school parking lot. A huge and heavy wooden bookcase was sticking out of it, and she was about to run to her classroom and ask some boys to come help her carry it in when someone behind her spoke.
"Excuse me, could you use a hand?" It was Dylan—or to Ms. Whitman, a young blonde woman whose relatively short stature did not look particularly encouraging.
"Oh—that's all right, thanks," Ms. Whitman laughed. "I don't know if the two of us together could even get this up! My neighbors got it into the car for me this morning in the first place, and me being stupid and all, I didn't even think about how I was going to actually get it into my classroom."
Dylan rubbed her nose and took a few steps forward. She had to spread her arms nearly as far as they would go, but she was able to grab the bookcase out of the trunk by both ends and lift it out with ease. Tossing her head to get some hair out of her face, she said, "Where's your classroom?"
Looking nothing short of dumbfounded, Ms. Whitman frantically tried to find some way in which she could help. "Oh, gosh—don't—you don't have to—"
"I've already got it," Dylan said calmly, and to be honest it did not seem like she was struggling at all. "I'm stronger than I look, trust me."
"How…how are you doing that?"
"I play rugby." She started to walk towards the school, and Ms. Whitman quickly slammed her trunk door and caught up. "So you're a teacher here?"
"Y-yes, I actually just started this year," Ms. Whitman said, hurrying ahead slightly to open the door of the school. "Jessica Whitman."
Dylan transferred the bookcase to one hand so she could shake Jessica's. "Dylan Packer, nice to meet you."
"You look too old to be a student here, and definitely too young to be a parent," Jessica noted, turning down a hallway. "What brings to our fine school?"
"I…had to…give something to the principal's secretary." Catching Jessica's eye, Dylan temporarily forgot Jenna's actual name. "Ms. Johns. Er, Jenna St. Johns."
Jessica appeared to be smirking. "Ah, yes. So you're a friend of hers?"
"Sort of, yeah."
"Did you go to school here?"
"No, no…I just moved to this town a few years ago. My dad lives here and I thought it'd be cool to be near him." As Jessica nodded politely, Dylan cast about for something else to discuss besides her family. "So…what all's going in here?"
"In the bookcase? Um…books. I mean, I had put in an order for all these books for my AP students, and they're supposed to arrive on Monday, and it was only this morning that I realized I didn't have anywhere to put them."
Dylan gave Jessica a sidelong glance. The woman was quite young, probably not much older than Dylan, with long dark hair and perfectly tanned, unblemished skin. Her brown eyes were disarmingly bright, and her teeth glistened when she smiled. And unless she was very much mistaken, Dylan suspected the teach had given her a going-over, also. Ah, what the hell.
"So these books. There'll probably be a lot of them."
"Twenty-four copies of seven books, so…yeah."
"You'll probably need a hand."
They came to a stop at a classroom located at the very end of the extremely long hallway, and Jessica turned by the closed door to give Dylan an appraising look as the blonde set the desk down for a moment. "I most likely will. The shipment should be here by the morning on Monday, but since I teach in the mornings and I don't have my AP classes until the afternoon…"
"Hm. That day I have to come down around the lunch hour to see Ms. St. Johns about something. Maybe I'll run into you."
Jessica grinned. "Maybe you will." But then she glanced at the clock inside the classroom and sighed good-naturedly at the students who were gossiping and in some cases running back in forth between a few desks with reckless abandon. "Kids. Gotta love 'em, right?"
Dylan shrugged "I'm not good with them, to be honest, so I guess it's a good thing you're the teacher and I'm not." She nodded at the desk. "Where do you want this?"
"Oh, just—" She opened the door, immediately causing the class to turn collectively towards her. "Yes, yes I know!" she said over their melodramatic moans. "You're so happy to see me arrive at last! Let's see here—Jack, Russell, Danny, Adam—could you guys come take this bookcase and put it in the back corner over there?"
The four boys obediently sprung up to help, and it occurred to Dylan that one of them was the kid she'd shoved on Halloween to get Michael to Tiffany's in a timely manner. For a moment she wondered if he would recognize her, but then remembered she'd been so convincingly disguised as a man that night that Danny would have no reason to wonder about her. Most of the class was looking curiously at her, wondering who she might be, but Dylan only caught one person's gaze: Michael's. Michael was staring at her, slightly dumbfounded, and in response, Dylan merely raised her eyebrows and turned on her heel.
"See ya round, teach," she said. "Nice meeting you."
"Likewise." And Michael couldn't help noticing that it was without much success that Ms. Whitman fought to keep her expression neutral as she began class.
The Next Day...
Michael had had a difficult time trying to come up with an excuse to get herself over to Huntsville. It was a forty-five minute drive, which was bad enough on its own, but the main problem was figuring out how to cut out of work. The A&P was the perfect alibi for her parents, but getting someone at work to help her out would be something else entirely. Danny was the only co-worker she knew well, but at the same time, she felt really awkward asking him to cover for her. Fortunately for Michael, Danny was a seventeen-year-old boy with a crush on the girl who was asking him a favor—which meant that he was only too willing to cash in on the opportunity to leave her in his debt.
"So why do you need me to cover for you?" he asked, though only after having agreed to do so.
"I…need to help Taylor West with something?"
"Are you asking me?" he laughed. "Why are you all chummy with her, anyway? I mean, don't get me wrong," he said, as Michael's heart hammered relentlessly and painfully against her chest, "I don't care that she's a lesbo or whatever. That's totally cool. She just seems a bit obnoxious."
"No, she's confident," Michael countered. "And I really admire that about her. She's got an English essay due tomorrow that she's totally lost on, so I'm going to go over it with her, and she's going to help me study for my astronomy test. It's really just a last-minute time issue, Danny, and I promise I'm going to do my best not to let it happen again. Thanks so much for covering for me!"
"Sure," he sighed, as he saw her turn and run towards an old Dodge and get inside. "Any time."
Taylor was laughing to herself as she pulled her car out of the parking lot of the A&P. Michael had thrown herself into the backseat next to Dylan, who avoided eye contact with her. She kicked lazily at the back of the passenger seat, which Jenna was slowly reclining. For a while she and Taylor teased Michael about how Danny had a crush on her, but soon they tired that topic out and became more interested in quizzing Dylan about Tiffany Blair.
"Just tell us how far you got, please!" Taylor groaned. She glanced at the rear view mirror and saw Dylan shake her head. "C'mon, dude! What's the problem? You fall for her or something?"
"No," Dylan spat out, her arms so tightly folded that it seemed unlikely she'd ever be able to untwist them again without someone else's help. "I could never be with someone like that. She's so tied up in this… seedy, disgusting world, and she knew what her husband was doing was wrong. She should've spoken up about it, she should've tried to do something about it."
"Well apparently you said something to make her talk," Jenna said. "So better late than never, right?"
Dylan snorted. "Whatever, she was drunk. She was drunk, and I asked the right questions. That's the only reason she talked."
Everyone was taken by surprised when Michael suddenly interjected, "What were you doing with Ms. Whitman?"
"What?"
"Ms. Whitman, yesterday. You guys were talking outside of her classroom before she came in."
"She…I was just helping her carry in a bookcase."
"Ohhhh myyyy-a God!" Jenna laughed, turning around in her seat to poke Dylan in the leg. "Were you flirting with a teacher?"
For a moment Dylan looked as though she'd like very much to roundhouse kick Jenna in the face, but perhaps because the logistics of their seating arrangement would make that impossible, she seemed to think better of it. Instead she satisfied herself with the safer but more frustrating response of, "Maybe."
Michael sat up a little straighter and said, "Dylan, please don't date her. She's my teacher, and you're my…co-worker, and if you two like went out, it'd be totally weird for me. My two worlds would be colliding in a really uncomfortable way, and I don't think that I could handle it."
"Mike, it's none of your business who I go out with," Dylan muttered. "And don't ever tell me again who I should or shouldn't date."
After a brief silence, Jenna said, "Okay, there is some awkward sexual tension in this car. Let's change the subject, shall we?"
"No, wait," Taylor said. "I think Michael has a point. She and I already go to the school this lady teaches at and that you work at, Jenna. Seeing someone is dangerous enough already without her being in contact with all of us every day—she might start putting things together."
"Guys," Dylan said crossly. "I never said anything about dating her! All I said was that I yeah, I flirted with her. It's nothing, it's no big deal. Can we please talk about something more important? Like the case?"
Jenna unceremoniously threw a cardboard box into the back seat, which Michael just barely reached up in time to smack away from hitting her face. "You were contacts, right Michael? There are some green ones in there to disguise your eyes, but if you'd rather not put them in, there's also a huge honkin' pair of sunglasses that'll hide half your face. Dylan, there's also that chestnut wig you love so much and the rest should be fairly self-explanatory."
Dylan pulled a makeup kit out of the box and was apparently used to applying it while Taylor drove in her haphazard way: Michael looked on in impressed silence as Dylan calmly put on deep red lipstick and just a bit of mascara while Taylor jerked the car and swerved needlessly fast around corners. Meanwhile, Jenna prattled on:
"This hot dog place thing is just a lead, remember. Stefano doesn't need to rely on a steady supplier, so it's likely he does deals in a number of places—possibly not even the one we visit today. Officer Billings will be there around four-thirty to check it out, incognito of course, but she doesn't know any of us will be there. She's only seen Dylan dressed as a man, and Michael if you'd put on that other wig in there, the blonde one, she'll be unlikely to recognize you, either. Taylor will get the to the workers, and I'll be on the streets waiting for Stefano or one of his goons to find me. Sound good, everyone? Okay! Break!"
"Um, Jenna?" Taylor said. "We're still like twenty-five minutes away."
"…right. Break in twenty-five minutes!"
"Aye."
A/N: And that's that for this chapter, everyone- Happy mother's day tomorrow! If you've read this and enjoyed it (or not enjoyed it), please leave us a review. Pretty soon I'll be turning this story over to a friend of mine who's been helping me write it, and we'd love to know what you think so far. Thanks!