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Kace snorted. “Wouldn’t be fun if just anyone was there. Call it an exclusive perk of being close to us.”
My brow rose, but I said nothing to that. Kace barely ever talked to me, and every time he did, I felt an insane urge to agree with whatever he’d said. As if his words had so much power and force behind them that he could literally bend reality to his will. The Lost Boys all frightened and attracted me in different ways—Bishop was secretive and unpredictable, Misael was dangerously charming, and Kace was quiet and closed-off, a puzzle I shouldn’t want to solve.
His use of the word “close” felt like an overstatement, but I supposed when it came down to it, our arrangement did make me close to them. Closer than I’d ever meant to get, that was for sure.
“Okay then.” I shrugged. “Let’s go.”
I slid into the car, taking what was becoming my usual spot in the passenger seat beside Bishop, and we were off.
If things were like they used to be, I would’ve texted Mom to let her know where I was going, that I wasn’t coming straight home after school. But these days, she spent so much time holed up in her bedroom, buried under layers of blankets, or curled up on the couch asleep that I doubted she’d see the text before I was home anyway.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure she’d care even if she did see it.
Figuring I should at least tell her something, I shot her a quick, vague text on the cheap little phone I’d gotten before we moved into the rental house, telling her I was going out with a few friends and would be back home later. It was as close to the truth as I felt like I could get.
And as we passed residential roads and drove into the industrial part of the city, I couldn’t help but feel like I was getting myself into something… weird. Wrong side of the tracks was an understatement as the pavement became more and more potholed and the level of graffiti art on brick walled buildings elevated. I bit my lip as the wind blew in my hair and the music blared from the convertible’s speakers—loud, but not loud enough to drown out Misael singing to it.
The warehouse Bishop brought us to was still standing despite the fact that it’d obviously been abandoned for years. Tall, dirty windows were broken, and portions of some of the walls were crumbling. Most of it was still intact though, and like the guys had said, there wasn’t anyone around. No cops patrolled the area, and no one cared that a band of underage kids were running around a place they probably shouldn’t be. On one hand, it meant that I could avoid the possibility of having to deal with police—something I’d been a little worried about, considering my dad was still in jail. Another family member in lockup would probably kill Mom, even if it was just for a day.
But on the other, having no cops in the area meant that once again, the Lost Boys were the ultimate authority. They made their own laws, and around here, those laws would be unbreakable.
Bishop pulled us close up to a broad steel door, and I peered out the window at it, surprised it was still in halfway decent condition. Rust gathered at the hinges, but otherwise, it looked sturdy.
He killed the gas and looked at me. “Help us unload.”
I blinked. It was the first time a request from Bishop had actually sounded like a request. But that didn’t make me any more anxious to comply.
Unload? Unload what?
I got out of the car nonetheless, walking around to the back with the others. Kace had the trunk popped, and my mouth dropped.
There was a whole cooler in the trunk, a few bags of chips and snacks, and then a smaller cooler. Kace reached in, grabbing the bags and handing them over to me. He grabbed the larger cooler, and Misael grabbed the smaller, as well as a boombox that I realized was tucked deeper into the back of the trunk.
Not knowing what all this was about, I just took what was given to me and headed over to meet Bishop near the front of the building. He was unlocking the deadbolt on the steel door, and when the lock clicked, he nudged the door open with his foot. He held it open for me, gesturing me through before him. When I stepped inside, my footsteps slowed, and he nudged my back to keep me moving.
Inside the empty warehouse, there were a couple of old couches, worn down and used, but kept up in decent condition. A large table sat off to the side, with a smaller coffee table between the couches and a couple of bean bag chairs too. It was obvious this was a frequent haunt; while the place overall was run down, this was kept up too much to not be a place where the Lost Boys spent a lot of their time.
This was… well, it was different.
I was used to country clubs, golf courses, warmed pools and soft instrumental music. I was used to pool boys with toned bodies taking “summer jobs” to make it seem like they were learning how to work, and the girls that went to the clubs with their mothers flirting when their fathers weren’t looking.
I wasn’t used to this, the concrete floor beneath my heels echoing with each of my steps, the raucous laughter that came from behind as Misael and Kace trailed in after us. I wasn’t used to walking over debris and leaves and smudges of dirt, and I certainly wasn’t used to the way Misael just flopped down on one of the couches as if it were perfectly natural to sit on furniture of such questionable origin. As I gaped around me, Bishop popped open one of the coolers, pulling out a beer and handing it over to Kace.
Out of my element? You could say that.
I didn’t even think my element was recognizable in this situation, and I had no idea why they’d brought me here, why they wanted me here, in what was obviously a sort of haven for them. I set the bags of snacks down on the table and stood there awkwardly as Bishop and Kace pulled things out and Misael put on music.
They all moved with purpose, talking and joking as they settled in, as if this all made perfect sense to them. But I couldn’t figure out what the point of all this was.
“Um… so… what are we doing here?” The words came out low, only gaining volume as I spoke. Misael looked over to me.
“We come here to chill,” he said simply. “You never chill before?”
“Not… like this,” I admitted. “Not exactly.”
“Well, we ain’t got nothing to do tonight.” Misael shrugged. “Not till later at least. We come here and hang out. Nice setup, eh?”
“Sure…”
