Vega of the Sky

CHAPTER EIGHT

I usually don't believe in the black magic of Buzzfeed quizzes but I took one that told me what famous criminal I'd be. I was beyond relieved it skipped over Jeffrey Dahmer(because eating brains is gross) and straight to the queen-bee herself- Bonnie Elizabeth Parker- who I consider to be the brains of Bonnie and Clyde. Never did I think a Buzzfeed quiz could be so relatable. My pre-teen years of shoplifting convenience store earrings for attention never made more sense.

Then there's Cash. Calling him my Clyde would have the man rolling in his grave. The kid looks petrified at my suggestion of breaking in, his eyes so wide I can see myself in them. "We can't do that, it's illegal." He says.

Cash is more like a cinnamon roll. Sweet, untouched, untainted by the cruel world, but the kind that gets swallowed whole by hungry people. It's charming- when its not annoying.

"Then please, shower me with all you great ideas. I'm listening."

Crickets answer.

"I'm waiting-"

"Is the possibility of going to jail for breaking and entering not enough to deter you?"

"Your assuming this is my first rodeo. When I was sixteen, I broke into a Dunkin Donuts and stole four dozen Boston creams. They were out for weeks. South Carolina declared a state of emergency and I earned my name the Boston Cream Bandit." Only half of that was true. I may have worked at the Dunkin Donuts and may have been high at the time. I also got fired.

Cash lets out a heavy sigh. "Giving me your resume doesn't make me feel any better. In fact, now I feel bad for Dunkin Donuts." He groans.

"Cash, don't worry about Dunkin Donuts. I promise the Boston Cream Bandit didn't crash their stocks. There fine. Are you in or not?"

His sad eyes peak out from his arm- this kid pouts so much that I expect him to have wrinkles in his early thirties. "I just don't know-"

"Do you want your memories or not?" I growl.

"I do-"

"Then what do you have to lose." I emphasize the last word.

There's a long pause. Cash never moves from his fetal position. He mumbles to himself in Spanish or something. Then, he looks up, a deafed expression on his face. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Excellent." I smirk. Something about corrupting his moral compass was satisfying. "Ready to hear my plan?"

Cash looks like a kicked puppy. "Go for it." He sighs, as if my antics exasperate him.

The spirit of Bonnie is with me as I enter the lobby. I feel like a badass ready to slay. I can already imagine myself victorious- holding the memory box thing in my hands like a trophy. But my montage is interrupted by Cash tripping.

I glare and he mouths 'sorry' to me. Cash is already a mess, his hands shaking. He looks at me with these big watery eyes like my brother's hamster would every time it was taken from its cage.

"Remember, cough if you see someone coming and act natural." I say. Cash nods.

He takes his seat in one of the grey- worn out chairs in the lobby. His eyes focus on the hallway- he's on lookout duty.

I tip-toe towards the security guard. His grimy shoes are kicked back on the desk, while his chair is so far back that it squeaks with every breath he takes. His body is donut thicc and even if he catches us he won't be much of a challenge to outrun. His keys and I.D hang off of a hook that's latched onto his belt. The security guards face is too peaceful- I'll put my money on it that he's NyQuil drunk . Fun times. My hand reaches for the key ring, a squeak echoes in the lobby, and it takes me a minute to realize it's Cash coughing.