Chapter 28

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After a good fifteen minutes of cuddles and kisses, we readied ourselves for the adventure of a lifetime, actually more like the heist of a lifetime; and what a better place to perform this heist than in the very place where it all happened. Where we happened for the first time. That's right, Westfield High.

Ethan came up with the miraculous idea of sneaking into the school and I planned out our enter and escape routes, sketching out a crappy blueprint of the school and highlighting nearest exits and secret hallways.

We gathered our supplies needed for the heist and threw them into two duffel bags. Screw drivers, spray paint, a crow bar, a bucket of black paint, a rope, a couple of energy bars, Smartfood popcorn, The Fault in Our Stars, and a shit ton of Vaseline filled the bags and added an extra couple of pounds to the both of us. Our victim of choice you may ask? Mrs. Bullard.

After a quick energy boost from Starbucks, we crawled into Ethan's Jeep and took the main road straight to the juvenile detention  centre.

We quickly ran through our roles and began preparing for worst case scenarios.

"So," Ethan started sheepishly, "If security catches us in Bullard's room, we have to crawl through the window onto the roof and escape through the window of room 327 right across from us?"

I rolled my eyes in frustration and attempted, once again, to correct him.

"No, if we get caught by security we got to go out the window then jump down onto the second floor roof, it's not that high of a jump, and open the window of room 227. From there, we run as fast as possible to the nearest exit and voila, we are out."

"Got it. If I fall, don't come back for me," he said, gesturing to his newly healed ankle.

"Trust me, I won't let that happen," I assured him, clutching his hand tightly and breathing heavily. "We've got this."

"Oh my God. Holland Marie Summers, the master of all escape plans, are you nervous?"

"Hey, this is completely illegal. To be honest, I'm shitting my pants, I haven't done anything like this before."

"Neither have I. I guess there's a first time for everything."

I smiled at his last comment, it was cheesy but I liked it. I guess the foundation of our relationship had been built upon a mountainous pile of cliches and quotes.

We finally pulled into the parking lot and slowly got out. My mind was racing, thinking of the different ways of escape; thinking of the various ways that we could get caught.

And then, he took my hand and hugged me.

"You ready?" he asked through a sigh.

"Bullard deserves this. It's now or never."

On the inside, I was shaking, scared of suspension, scared of expulsion. Then I remembered the day that I did my presentation, the day she doubted me. Revenge coursed through my veins and I felt ready, I had put up with this teacher for far too long.

"Alright," Ethan blurted out, removing himself from my grasp, "commence operation Blasphemous Bullard."

"Don't fall. Don't die."

With those encouraging words, we scoped out the area and found our entry into the school; to our surprise, the first floor window remained wide open, leading us exactly two floors and sixty-four rooms away from our destination. Ethan went in first and I followed close behind him, listening carefully for any movement other than our own. We were dressed in all black, believe it or not it actually helped when sneaking into school at a quarter to midnight. Not only did it give us the idea that we were ninjas, but it also allowed us to hide in several of the nooks and crannies scattered throughout Westfield High.

We made it to the third floor, five doors away from our destination, hiding when we heard suspicious noises, when a loud trace of footsteps emanated from the other end of the hallway.

"Escape plan number six?" Ethan questioned, a trace of anxiety in his voice.

The escape plan he mentioned consisted of running into any random classroom and crawling out the window, remaining there until the coast was clear.

"No," I whispered relentlessly, "proceed with original plan." 

I never thought I would regret a decision this much in my life.

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