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“This is so dumb,” John B mutters. “And that’s coming from me.”
“I gotta agree,” Pope’s voice whispers, somewhere down the line behind John B. “And if John B and I are agreeing that something is stupid, it’s probably pretty bad.”
Sarah curses under her breath, her hand falling into a particularly loose patch of dirt as she crawls along. “Jesus,” she says, trying to ignore the fact that she definitely just touched a worm. “Yeah, JJ, I’m not sure about this.”
Pope’s voice speaks up from the back of the line again. “Are you even sure Kie wants us here –”
“Will you all shut up?” JJ says, shifting from crawling to crouching as he turns towards them. “If we get caught, it’s gonna be hell.”
Pope’s head pops out from behind John B’s shoulder. “So why are we here again? If, you know, it’s going to be hell?”
JJ turns away from him, his voice barely intelligible as he whispers. “It’s only going to be hell if we get caught.”
With a deep sigh, John B sits back on his heels. “Gotta be real with you, bree, we don’t have a great track record.”
A car passes by on the street, forcing them all to hit the deck to avoid the headlights. Sarah’s heart beats out of her chest as the car hesitates at the stop sign, but a second later it pulls away, none the wiser to the group of teens creeping in the bushes.
No one says anything until the sound of the car is indistinguishable from the gentle lapping of the waves around the dock. Then, JJ says quietly, “Kiara needs a couple things from her room.”
Sarah peeks her head up, searching the street for an errant runner who might enjoy a midnight bout of exercise. “What exactly does she need?” she asks, dusting off her palms and quirking her eyebrows. “I have all the clothes in the world to share with her.”
“And it’s not like her meditation posters are going to do her a lot of good right now,” Pope chimes in.
JJ’s not paying attention to him. He’s watching the Carrera’s house with narrowed eyes, taking in details Sarah can’t even pretend to guess at.
“I’m not asking y’all to go into the lion’s den,” he says, turning back to them finally. “But I’m going in. You guys can keep watch.”
Sarah meets John B’s eyes. His expression tells her all she needs to know – they are both in the dark about what’s running through JJ’s brain.
After a moment, John B turns back to JJ. “You really aren’t going to tell us what you’re here for?”
JJ doesn’t even entertain that with an answer. Instead, he tilts his head to one side. “Bird, you gonna birdcall if you see any trouble coming my way?”
John B sighs, then lets out the most pathetic cacaw Sarah’s ever heard.
JJ is similarly disappointed. “Still sounds like a dying chicken, but it’ll have to do.”
Even being this close to the Carrera’s house is setting Sarah on edge. She had heard what happened to Kiara when she was taken, and imagining it all playing out on the very lawn she’s crouched on makes Sarah want to throw up. After the last few days, and JJ’s reaction to her disappearance, Sarah can’t imagine how he can stand it.
As JJ nods his head, ready to enter the lion’s den all alone, Sarah reaches out her hand, tugging him to a stop.
“You’re seriously going in there all alone?” she asks.
JJ looks at her like she’s the crazy one. “I don’t see anyone else volunteering.”
Sarah doesn’t want to go into that house. Down to her bones, she knows it’s a bad idea.
And yet, she can’t let JJ do it all alone.
With a sigh that settles deep, deep in her chest, she releases JJ’s arm. “You’ve never been in her room, right?”
She doesn’t mean it as an accusatory question, but JJ’s taken aback. It’s still an awkward area for all of them – the areas of Kiara’s life where Sarah was allowed to freely go, while the boys were kept at an arm's distance by Mike and Anna.
“Uh, no, actually,” JJ says defensively.
It’s awkward to mention it now, but Sarah’s too deep in it to back out. “I’ve been in her room,” she says, her tone stilted. “I can help you find anything she needs.”
JJ appraises her for a second, taking her in. It’s less and less often that Sarah feels like a Kook dressed as a Pogue, and even under JJ’s challenging stare, her identity doesn’t waver. Small victories, right?
“Sarah, I’m not asking you to do that,” JJ says after a moment of contemplation.
“Good thing I’m offering, then,” Sarah says, surging forward and leading the charge towards the Carrera’s front porch. “Her closet is a nightmare to navigate.”
Sarah hears JJ whisper quick instructions to Pope and John B – be quick on the draw with that fucking birdcall, man – and by the time she’s at the ivy covered trellis Kiara used to sneak out on, JJ’s right behind her.
“Her bedroom is the windows to the left, right?” JJ asks, his voice even quieter than before.
“Her parents are right above us,” Sarah whispers back.
JJ sizes up the trellis, and then shrugs his shoulders. “Too far in to back out now.”
A millisecond later, JJ is spidermonkeying his way up the trellis, his hands and feet finding holds too quickly. As Sarah struggles to follow his movements, he turns around and drops a hand to help her up.
“How many times have you actually done this?” Sarah whispers, half out of breath as JJ hoists her up. “No bullshit.”
JJ’s grip tightens a little bit. “Uh, I haven’t,” he says. “I’ve seen Kiara do it a few times though.”
He doesn’t elaborate past that, and Sarah can’t help but wonder what that means – or whether she believes him. In either case, JJ doesn’t give her a chance to dwell on her decision. They both stay silent as he leads the way across the roof, sneaking particularly carefully by Kiara’s parent’s windows.
The silence stretches until they are at Kiara’s window, the one Sarah’s able to point out immediately because of the dreamcatcher on it. If Sarah’s not mistaken, JJ whispers a quiet prayer as he tests the window.
It opens with no resistance, clearly unlocked. JJ lets out a visceral sigh of relief as he leans his head against the pane of glass.
“Thank fucking god,” he whispers. “I didn’t have a back up plan.”
Sarah gives him a weird look. “You know Cleo could have picked the lock in a second, right?”
JJ lifts his head, not quite looking at Sarah. “She wanted to stay back with Kiara.”
There’s no way to know whether that’s true or not – Cleo would almost certainly co-sign whatever JJ says, regardless of the reality of the situation. It’s just too much of a coincidence for Sarah. JJ hasn’t left Kiara alone in his home at all, and he never leaves unless Cleo’s staying behind.
Sarah watches him slide through the window, landing quietly on his feet.
“Does Kiara know you’re here?” Sarah asks before sliding through the window herself.
He doesn’t turn to look at her. “No,” he says after a minute, pulling his backpack off and rooting through it. “Of course not. I told her I was going to the grocery store.”
“At midnight?”
JJ sighs. “She definitely didn’t believe me.”
“Why didn’t you tell her?” Sarah says, watching through the pale light of the moon as he pulls out a flashlight.
JJ flickers the weak beam of the light on and gives Sarah a look. “Don’t ask stupid questions.” Then, he shines the flashlight around the room. “Enough chit chat. Let’s get searching.”
Sarah watches him struggle with the flashlight, and then she sighs. “Yeah, fuck that,” she says, striding across the room solely by virtue of her memory, her hand finding the light switch like it’s been hours, not months, since she’s been in this room.
JJ bounds across the room like a bat out of hell, somehow still remaining quiet even in heavy boots. “What the fuck are you doing?” he demands in a whisper as he slams the lights off.
Sarah gives him a look. “Her parent’s room is on the other side of the house. We used to leave this light on for hours and they’d never know we were up.”
It’s probably risky, but that flashlight is only going to make them clumsier. It’s better for them to take this risk, be quick about their mission, and get out of here as soon as possible. If one of them were to trip over Kiara’s insane vinyl collection, they’d be done for.
“Only if you’re sure,” JJ says, seeming to trust her as he takes a step back.
Sarah flips the lights back on. “Be quick,” she warns.
“Quick,” JJ repeats, but he’s doing the exact opposite. He’s taking a step back, his eyes taking in all the glory of Kiara’s little room.
It’s all very Kiara, Sarah thinks. The plants on the windowsill and the posters on the wall, the tapestry her mom hates and the piles of random shit in the corners. Sarah’s as familiar with it as her own room, but she wonders what JJ sees.
He’s doing a slow circle in the middle of the room, his eyes flitting from the mutlicolored pillows on her bed to the small desk in the corner that still holds all of Kiara’s abandoned homework and the chair by the window that Kiara slouches in when she reads.
Sarah would love to give him all the time in the world to stare at every picture, every piece of Kiara she hasn’t been able to share with him, but she’s also very cognizant of the fact that they are currently breaking and entering.
“JJ?” she says, wincing as he turns to look at her, his eyes wide like he’s been caught. “Let’s get moving.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he says, moving in another circle, this time a little quicker.
Sarah can see the wheels spinning, his one track mind de-railing. Throwing him a bone, she points towards Kiara’s closet – still filled to the brim with clothes, sweatshirts and t-shirts and shorts threatening to pop out of every crack.
“Clothes first, right?”
JJ looks confused, then realization dawns on his face. “Oh, yeah. Can you tackle the closet situation?”
Sarah gives him a look. “What are you going to do?”
JJ takes a step away from the closet, towards Kiara’s photo wall. “Has she always had this?” he asks instead of answering her question.
Another delay, but Sarah can’t help it as she takes a look herself.
The photo wall has always been there, in one form or another. Almost all the photos that dot it now are ones she recognizes. It’s filled with pictures of her and Kiara during her Kook Year – Cotillion Court and Homecoming and football games – interspersed with pictures of Kiara with the Pogues – partying at the Boneyard and surfing on their days off and watching the sunset at Rixon’s. In the very center, there’s a photo from Kiara’s kindergarten class.
“Uh, no,” Sarah says. “I mean, yes, she always had pictures on this wall, but… never like this.” Sarah trails her hand over a picture of her and Kiara, clearly taped together after having been ripped apart. Right next to it, there’s a picture of her and JJ doing yoga on the beach. “It was never all of us at once.”
JJ studies it for a second longer. “We’re taking all of them,” he says definitively.
Sarah’s hand pauses, the puzzle pieces falling into place. “We were never here for her clothes, were we?”
“No,” JJ admits, reaching up and carefully but quickly prying the pictures from the wall. “We should probably take some back with us, though. And, uh, do you know which blanket is her favorite?”
Of course Sarah does – Kiara plays favorites with everything, and she’s blatant about it. JJ makes himself busy, taking down pictures and placing them carefully in a box he stole from her desk, while Sarah buzzes around the room, gathering every favorite Kiara has. She crams Kiara’s favorite blanket into her favorite backpack and shoves her favorite pillow out the window with it all, hoping none of it gets blown off the roof. The closet is too much of a nightmare to truly sort through, but Sarah does her best, pulling the most worn pajamas and the comfiest pair of leggings and the t-shirt Kiara’s worn so much, it has holes in the armpits.
JJ’s done first, the box of pictures cradled under his arm, and he helps Sarah with the last of the decisions on the clothes, then throws Kiara’s bag with all her friendship bracelet making supplies onto the roof next to her pillow. Just as Sarah’s about to call it a day, JJ stops her.
“Her teddy bear,” he says, a little frantically, like they both know their time is running out. “Do you know where her teddy bear is?”
“Her what?”
“Teddy bear,” JJ repeats. “Turtle?”
Sarah can only blink at him in confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
JJ bites his lip. “Fuck.” He runs his hands through his hair. “She said it was under her bed, but she didn’t say where.”
Gesturing wildly at the bed, Sarah urges him to move. “Well, don’t just stand there!”
They both drop to the ground, crawling around and lifting the bed skirt and searching for some non-descript bear until JJ lets out a tiny, triumphant aha!
When Sarah turns back to him, he’s holding an old, battered brown teddy bear in his hands.
Sarah raises her eyebrows. “We did all this for a teddy bear?”
“For Turtle,” JJ corrects, standing up. “Come on, we gotta –”
“Cacaw.”
John B’s shitty birdcall is – thankfully – loud enough to carry through the open window. JJ’s eyes go wide, and then he’s sprinting across the room and turning the light off.
“Go, go, go,” he whispers, all but throwing Sarah out the window with everything from Kiara’s room that she holds dear.