𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 - kiara carrera¹

𝒍𝒗𝒊𝒊. 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

"WE GO IN THERE, GUNS A-BLAZIN', MAKE WARD CAMERON BEG FOR MERCY, ABSCOND WITH AS MUCH GOLD AS POSSIBLE AND VAMONOS, GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE."

Much to Pope and Kiara's dismay, JJ, John B and Tatum - aka, the most immature people in the group - were the ones to come up with this plan, due to them growing up around this type of crap. So, while JB drove the van, the other two sat in the back, reloading the brand new guns Tate had bought with her remaining money from Barry. She was happy to finally feel like the brains of the operation; she'd never been the brains of anything before. But when it came to weapons and robbing, the girl was suddenly Einstein.

"Or we could just shoot him and steal everything he owns," she suggested with a shrug, like what she said was completely normal.

"Good idea!" JJ encouraged, pointing a finger at her.

From the front seat, John B nodded in agreement.

Pope and Kie shook their heads. This was why the three of them were never the claimed geniuses of the group. "Let's stick to the original plan, huh?" said the boy. "Get the gold, get out."

"And pistol-whip him," added Tatum with an innocent smile.

"We'll put a pin in it."

"Guns are made out of metal," she pointed out, grinning at her cleverness. "I can't put a pin in one.".

Kiara shook her head, trying her hardest not to chuckle, turning around from the passenger's seat to smile at her girlfriend. Court was in one day. They had one day to get that gold, and get out. Either that, or they'd never see Tatum Quinn again.

"Send that shit right down the Intracoastal," John B nodded, going back on the topic of the gold.

"Wait for the weather," added Kie with a smile.

"Exit to Cuba," finished Pope.

"Cuba?" asked JJ, putting his very own pistol down and looking at the two 'responsible' teenagers like they were dumb. "No, man, Xcalak, Jewel of the Yucatan."

"I wanna go to France," mumbled Tatum, reloading the last gun. It was Kiara's. Even though she specifically told Tate that she did not want a weapon. But how else was she supposed to be safe?

"How the hell are we supposed to get all the way to Europe?" JJ challenged, knowing she'd be stuck trying to come up with an answer to it for the rest of the day. He'd been talking about getting out to Yucatan since he was twelve years old and Joseph Quinn had just come back from a school trip there. "'Lobsters so thick, mangoes, and no word for money'."

"Did you just quote my dead brother?"

𑁍𑁍𑁍

"WHAT'S THE PLAN? BROAD STROKES."

The group stood at the wired fence outside the Camerons' private airline. Out of all the places in OBX, this is the only one Tatum hadn't broken into before. Leroy did once; he stole Rafe's first ever jet. Now Rafe isn't allowed jets... The point was that Tatum had no idea what to do other than jump the fence, which Pope told her would be an idiotic idea since it would apparently cut you.

She chose to ignore his warning.

Now her palms were bleeding.

"Right after I told you!" the boy hissed, wrapping his spare pair of socks around her hands. Yes, Pope Heyward brought an extra pair of socks everywhere he went. Not trousers, not shirts, not pants - socks. He brought socks. Everywhere.