𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄 [a rini au]

one

"Favorite Crime" was Ricky Bowen's favorite NINI song. No, he hadn't ever made a purposeful habit of listening to the singer, but because Ashlyn Caswell's house was closer to her cousin EJ's than Ricky's was, when EJ picked them up for school each morning she always got shotgun and therefore complete authority over the aux cord.

The Caswells were like family to Ricky. He had known EJ Caswell since they were five years old. On their kindergarten field trip to the fire station, Ricky had been too frightened to slide down the fireman's pole like everybody else, earning him taunts and insults from his jeering classmates. EJ had been the only kid that didn't tease Ricky that day, and was instead quick to defend him from the other students. Eternally grateful for EJ's kindness, five-year-old Ricky dubbed him his new best friend, and the pair soon become inseparable.

The raven-haired boy had been there for Ricky when his parents divorced in middle school, and when his mom skipped town their freshman year. And Ricky and his father had been there for EJ whenever he got lonely all alone in his large house while his parents —who seemed to be always either working or thinking about work — were fighting or on one of their sporadic business trips. Now high school seniors, Ricky and EJ were practically brothers. Ricky certainly considered his best friend family, despite not sharing a bloodline.

Being an honorary member of the Caswell family had a plethora of perks, one of which being daily rides both to and from school in the dark blue Range Rover that EJ's parents had gifted him for his sixteenth birthday two years earlier. ("What's the need for love and attention when you've got a sweet new ride?" EJ had joked). Of course, when his cousin Ashlyn, a perky redhead a grade below the boys, had gotten word that her "favorite relative" (her words) was giving people (Ricky) rides to school each morning, she insisted she deserved her freedom from the malodorous yellow school bus as well. And thus ended Ricky's aux cord privileges.

In truth, he had nothing against Ashlyn's music choices, or against Nini, for that matter (which he learned was, yes, her real name, just of course not fully capitalized as her stage name was) though he would never admit that out loud— stubborn pride, and all that. Nevertheless, it was impossible to ignore that the girl was talented. Her vocals were clearly impressive, but it was her lyricism that Ashlyn, (and Ricky) prided her on most.

"She's a genius," Ashlyn stated as the trio pulled into the East High student parking lot.

"Ash," EJ sighed. "I feel like I've heard this 'Deja Vu' album more times than I've ever heard any album in my life. You never play anything else."

It was true. Since the album had been released two months prior, Ashlyn had insisted on playing it from top to bottom every day on the way to school. Which is how Ricky knew enough Nini songs to have a favorite.

"I'm studying," Ash said pointedly. The redhead was an aspiring singer/songwriter, Nini one of her biggest influences.

"Studying what? How to piss off your cousin?" EJ quipped. "Don't make me revoke your aux privileges."

Ashlyn rolled her eyes. "For your information, I meant studying her lyricism. I've been planning on performing an original song at Spring Fest this year."

Spring Fest. Taking place in early April, it was Salt Lake's annual weekend-long spring celebration. There were carnival games, food, raffles, and a talent contest— which was the part that Ashlyn was referring to.

"Well, we won't be here for Spring Fest," EJ reminded his cousin as the three friends exited the car. "Ricky, Carlos, and me. We'll be in LA, babayyy!"

Ricky chuckled, shaking his head. The senior trip that year, taking place during spring break, was in Los Angeles, California. He, EJ, and their friend Carlos Rodriguez had jumped at the opportunity to go when it was announced a few months prior. A week of beach trips, tanning, and a hotel with a pool, not to mention chaperoned by Miss Jenn, the English teacher/theater director who was always far too concerned with herself to keep much of a watchful eye on the students, and Mrs. Harris, the Algebra teacher who was probably pushing one-hundred years old and always napping during class. A week in the City of Angels with limited supervision? Needless to say, the three seniors were very much looking forward to the vacation.