"Why can't we just walk in through the front door?" Justin asks, genuinely confused. 

The three of us are currently making our way towards the southeast side of the main building. At this time of the night, the darkness is at its peak. Strands of silvery light from the moon struggle to touch the ground, just barely illuminating our path. If there's anything sized smaller than the average cat, I probably won't be able to see it. Which I suppose is good for us since what we're currently up to might be considered by some to be 'illegal'.

"I thought you asked me to help because you didn't want to get caught, smartass," Ethan replies in utter disbelief, no doubt wondering why on earth Justin would even ask such a question.

"I have a key," he defends, shrugging.

"Why in the world do you of all people- never mind, I don't care. Besides, I have a key too; though I have a hunch we got ours in very different ways."

There's an adorably conflicted look on Ethan's face. His nose is scrunched and his eyebrows are drawn together, his soft lips pursed. He's probably mentally debating whether he should explain to Justin why waltzing in through the front is really stupid.

"It's his first heist, go easy on him," I insist, grinning at Ethan.

His grey eyes go even wider as he gasps, "and this isn't your first heist?!"

From beside him, Justin has a matching expression, seeming to mean the same thing. His eyebrows are raised so high I can paint starry night on his eyelids. I don't blame them for assuming I've never broken in anywhere before. I've been told I don't look like the type of person who would do such a thing.

"Well... I've seen things too, let's leave it at that. Besides, it was only once... so, yeah."

"Which means, Prince Charming, you're the only one here that's green," Ethan snorts unattractively, lightly jabbing Justin in the side. 

Justin is quick to respond, swiftly flicking Ethan's ear. A chain reaction ensues as Ethan's rounded metallic earring pops out and rolls into the nearby shrubs before any of us can even register what has occurred. He gazes at the path his precious earring took, pouting.

"Such is the nature of man, utterly helpless," he breathes, his tone surprisingly melancholy.

Justin and I turn to each other at once, exchanging a knowing look. 

"Drama queen," we accuse in unison.

The whole situation seems hilarious and as much as I try I can't help but laugh. There's a contagious effect and pretty soon the three of us are just standing towards the side of the building at half past midnight, having the time of our lives.

Then we hear soft crunches. Footsteps, gaining momentum at an alarming rate. The three of us dive into the shrubs at the last moment.

I hold my breath and stay perfectly still, watching as a sort of plump night guard half-heartedly swings his torch around before sighing loudly and going back the way he came. If he wasn't so indifferent he might've noticed Justin's left foot still sticking out from the shrubs or my wool hat dropped hastily at the side of the pathway.

Once it's clear the guard's gone, Justin releases a flurry of colorful curse words. We stare at him in confusion. What's wrong with him?

"You and your stupid jewelry," he grumbles to Ethan, holding up his forearm. Right in the middle, there's a glint of metal. It's that same earring, embedded deep in Justin's forearm (well, as deep as an earring can be embedded). He slowly pulls it out and tosses it to Ethan, who seems more than delighted. 

Ouch. Most likely, he fell on that thing when we dove in the shrubs. Haha, bad luck.

"You know, we're breaking in for your jewelry," Ethan reminds him, making sure to flash a smug smile.

Under Ethan's command, we discreetly snake our way through various greenery and arrive right below one of the older looking windows.

This is one of the few remaining windows that covers ¾ of the wall and is still the sliding type. The wood of the frame is evidently high-quality, but time has eaten away at it so intensely in such a manner that if one tried hard enough, they could pick out various constellations from the holes in the wood - including the big dipper. 

Built in the style of bay windows, this one has a substantially wide sill on the inside. I press my face against the weathered glass, squinting.

From the looks of it, the space is cluttered with flower-tipped pens, stuffed animals, tiny posters printed on recycled paper, and an excess of mints overflowing from an animal themed cup. This has to be Mrs. Barrick's desk. She's the only one who's personality matches (the woman wears wallpaper looking skirts with blouses that have printed pictures of her pets on them, I'm almost certain).

"Mrs. Barrick?" I question in hopes of confirming my suspicions. Ethan's eyes light up with a mixture of amusement and surprise.

"Yes, actually." 

He then proceeds to pull out a key marked with a red dot and inserts it into the window, twisting. He pushes it but the thing won't budge. It's jammed.

Before he can try again, Justin reaches over from behind him and slides it open with one hand. Ethan turns, scowling.

It's not surprising. Between the two of them, Justin has more muscle mass. Ethan's very fit, but he's the lean sort of fit. I have the impression that he has a four-to-six-pack, he's built like a runner or a swimmer. Justin on the other hand probably has a six-to-eight pack and is built like the football player he is.

I don't understand what the issue is. They're both in incredibly great shape and they both look amazing. Why does it matter who has 'bigger guns'?

"Jerk," Ethan grumbles, annoyed. I guess matters like these are very ego-centered.

"I didn't even say anything."

"Yeah, but you were thinking it. I hope you know that It was easier for you because you're a football player. Actually, you know what? I'm calling you beef from now on."

"That's not even fair! You see? This is why I'm slightly not nice to you, if you were to give me a little bit of positive reinforcement from time to time, then maybe I would be nicer."

"Slightly not nice? Remember that one time in ninth grade when you-"

"We don't talk about the ninth grade!"

As amusing as this exchange is, and despite how badly I want to know what happened in 'the ninth grade', we're on a schedule.

"Lady. Tramp." I mumble, placing a hand on each of their backs and nudging them forward. They shut up right away, regaining their focus.

Justin climbs in first, taking care not to knock anything over. His movement is silent and effortless. Next in line is me. And that's the problem. While the window is only 3 feet off the ground from the inside, it's a whole 5 feet up from the outside. Considering I'm at an impressive height of 5'3, climbing in is not an option.

From behind me, I hear Ethan laugh. Then he reaches out and lifts me up, cradling me in his arms like a tiny baby. With my face pressed right against his chest, I feel each and every curve of his toned muscles. I'm momentarily stunned as a unique mix of cologne and cinnamon roll invades my nose.

He steps up and passes me through the window, right into Justin's outstretched arms. The whole scene looks like a shady drug deal, where I'm the packet of drugs. I can't believe I was just exchanged as if I was nothing but a bag of feathers- weightless.

Of course, rivaling Justin at 6'2, Ethan's entry is just as silent and invisible.

He takes a deep breath and motions for us to come closer. In a hushed, low voice he says, "they've got guards patrolling the hallways occasionally, and the security cameras are still active. Therefore, there are limited paths we can take and limited actions we can make. From here on, follow me movement to movement- if so much as even a part of your hair gets caught in those cameras, things will get messy."

And so, we do just that, carefully mimicking his every movement. Every contraction of the muscles, every breath, every half-step left or inch right. Many times, guards pass by in neighboring hallways, sometimes they stop midway and look around- as if they can feel something's not right. Each time they do so, I feel my lifespan shortening. The whole process is excruciating.

Eventually, we stop at a bend in the hallway. Ethan turns back and whispers in a voice so low I strain to catch it.

"Around the corner is Principal Oliver's office, it's also the most highly guarded part of this building. Multiple guards pass by frequently with minimal time intervals. Our best bet is in between the fourth and the fifth ones. That arrangement gives us roughly 2 minutes. 2 minutes to make it from here to inside the office on the other end."

He gazes at the two of us, analyzing our faces, making sure we understand the severity of our situation. We either succeed or we fail. Considering the goal is the Principal's office, failing means certain expulsion and likely criminal charges. He wants to make sure we agree, to test our conviction.

This is exhilarating. Of course I'm in.

We both nod without hesitation. That was all he needed. He smiles wide, turning back to watch the hallway. An entire lifetime seems to pass.

Finally, he makes a quick hand motion and darts towards the door. We make it to the door with 45 seconds to spare. Ethan immediately inserts the key he somehow has, then freezes.

He looks at us, pale. What's wrong...?

In a trembling voice filled with urgency, he declares "She changed the lock... it's activated by a 4-digit passcode now."

30 seconds left.

/\/\/\***/\/\/\

Principal Oliver's a jerk lol

Any ideas on how they might get out of this mess? It takes roughly 1 min to run back so that's not an option

Please remember to vote if you like it!

Chp pic: Ethan's earring :) It wasn't properly closed so when flicked, it came out