Page 59 of Kiss Collector
“Uh...” He wraps a long pinkie awkwardly around our conjoined ones, and we all laugh. Now it’s time to get ready.
We go all out with our disguises. Full black. Cheap, stretchy black gloves and beanies from the dollar shop, courtesy of Lin. Kohl eyeliner thick around our eyes. To pass the time, we turn off all the lights and shine flashlights, dancing to Kenzie’s cheer-dance mix.
At midnight, we go.
Vincent drives his own car, a black Honda coupe that will be less conspicuous than my big old minivan. I kind of love him for doing this. He takes control in a way that surprises us all and makes me feel like we’re strangely safe.
We get to the neighborhood—old money—big, classic houses with sprawling lawns and lush trees separating properties. The kind of houses with pools and gazebos in the backyards.
“That’s it up there,” Lin whispers. “She said it’s the one on the end, redbrick.”
The street is quiet and empty as Vincent makes a slow pass of the house. Bauer’s Jeep is parked in the driveway in front of the garage.
“They have floodlights at the corner of the garage,” Vincentsays quietly. “It’s pointed toward the yard, so don’t set foot off the driveway or you’ll activate them. There’s one over the front door, too, so stay close to the Jeep.” He goes around the corner and parks, turning off the lights. “Don’t bump the Jeep in case there’s an alarm sensor. Be super gentle when you’re touching it.”
The four of us are nodding, and I know their hearts are beating just as hard as mine. Kenzie starts pulling the cans of biscuits out of the bag and peeling the paper, then smacking them against the dashboard to pop them. When she flinches and squeaks at the first pop, Vincent takes the others and opens them for us. We fill our hands. Since they’re not as cold as they’re supposed to be anymore, they’ve gotten sticky, and I can’t help but giggle at the glop in my gloved hands.
Vincent comes around and opens our doors as quietly as possible. We slip out into the darkness, dashing quietly along the side of the road, and crouching as we rush up the driveway. I’m so nervous I could puke. Seeing my girls on the move keeps me going.
We work fast. I think about this guy, this jerk, who believes he has a right to take what he wants from a girl and then make her feel like trash when she doesn’t want it back. I smear dough onto his back window and along the soft top wherever I can reach. I hear the gentle scuttle of my friends’ feet on each side. When our hands are empty, we huddle together, take one look at his Jeep, which now appears pockmarked and gross, and take off back down the driveway, whispering “Oh my God!” and trying with all our might not to laugh.
We sprint up the street, push our way into Vincent’s car,pull the doors closed slowly, and Vincent guns it. He doesn’t turn the lights back on until we’re at the next street, and then we fall back into our seats, howling with laughter, exhilarated and wholly entertained. Vincent grins silently as he drives us back to Kenzie’s, and we rehash every single detail of our mission.
“I just wish I could see his face tomorrow,” I say. “Biscuited by four psychos and a thug.”
Laughter. So much we can hardly breathe.
And in that moment I’m happy.
Chapter Twenty-One
Saturday Afternoon
Thankfully Saturdays are super busy at work, which makes the day fly by, and the college girl I work with is nice. But I’m still on edge, staring out at people walking by, jumping at loud male voices that pass.
Lin messages us halfway through my shift, including a link.OMG, look!! #success.
The link takes me to one of Bauer’s pages, which is public, and his message is clear:Whoever fucked with my car, I will find you and you will pay.
I cover my mouth to hold back a squeal of delight because Mrs. McOllie is in the back room. We’ve made Bauer seriously mad, and that’s all I could have hoped for. I wonder if he cleaned the dough off himself or if Mommy and Daddy did it for him. Did it leave grease marks that had to be scrubbed?Does he feel violated? I want to ask him how it feels to have someone touch something of his without permission. How it feels to be completely disrespected. I know two wrongs don’t make a right and yada yada, but I have no regrets.
Still... I hope he never finds out it was us.
My good mood is ruined an hour before I’m supposed to get off, when I get a text from Dad:Can you and Zeb come to the restaurant for dinner around 4:45 before the evening rush starts?
I feel my lips curl into a scowl. Just the thought of seeing him makes me want to dive into my bed and cover my head with blankets. It takes me twenty minutes of deep breathing, pacing around the store, before I can text him back.
OK.
Great! See you then.
I’m tired when I get off, and I know it has everything to do with not wanting to see Dad. Then again, I feel tired a lot these days. When I pass the food court as I’m leaving, I hear my name being called and look over to see a huge group of Peakton kids. Basketball players and step teamers, and I see Joel and Kwami among them. I can’t help but smile.
“Look at you, lookin’ all cute,” says Destinee, head of the step team. She motions to the skirt and blouse I’m wearing with flats.
“Thanks,” I tell her. “I like the purple in your braids.”
“Aw, you’re too sweet.” She waves off the compliment. “You coming to Quinton’s tonight?”
