Class Of 96': 1994 (BxB Mystery)

Chapter XLVI - "You in?"

 Since the dawn of time, start of the universe, crack of the world, living things always found a way to discover wonderful, magical manias. No matter how whimsical or logical they turn to be, it's still a discovery. You were never born with the ability to read. You discovered it. Sooner or later, everybody will find their purpose in life. Or, at least, what would push them to live.

My discovery was love. Such a mystical, marvelous thing. Truly. But I never once thought I would come to discover crime.

As silly as it sounds, I'm trying to forget it. After all, not all discoveries are sweet. It could be bitter, awful, and horrifying.

I thought about this countless times as I lay in bed. Lights off, alone with my mind. Why can't I just be a teenager? Why do I need to worry about life and death?

As I'm thinking my brain off, a bird taps on my window. Hm, I wonder if a bird stresses as much as a human does.

The feathered fellow taps again. Then again. Until it sounds like it's pounding.

Did the bird slam into my window or something?!? I turned in my bed and lifted my blinds.

No amount of words could have described my shock at that moment.

Behind my window wasn't a bird. It was a girl. A girl with blowout locs, red lipstick, and sparkly skin under the moonlight.

All my blood rushed up my cheeks as I half-yelled: "Molly?!?"

She gave me a sly wink and pressed a finger on her lips: "Shh,"

"Wha—" I quickly checked my clock. It's ten P.M.! Oh my God! Why is she here?!? My ina is fast asleep by now and if she hears anything . . .

"Are you gonna open the window or what?" Molly mouths, clearly pleased with herself.

I hastily look around before doing so, careful not to make even a creak.

"What are you doing here?!?" I whisper with all my chest, though I wish I could shout.

"I got bored. You can't blame a girl who gets bored."

"It's ten P.M. on a Wednesday night!" A gush of cold wind swipes through us both and I could almost feel strands tickle my face. "Why are you here?!?"

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt? You seriously sleep nude?"

"I'm wearing shorts!"

She laughs. "Your hair is a total mess."

"Because it's ten P.M. on a—"

"—Wednesday night. Blah, blah, blah." She fixes her lined eyes on mine, grinning. "You didn't get my message, did you?"

What on earth— "Message???"

In that very instant, a glint of mischief cast over her pretty face as she leaned back. Her hot red Porsche was behind and with . . . two people in it. "Ollie, I told you his burner phone expired!!!"

She yelled! The blood in my cheeks quickly drained as I scrambled to cover Molly's mouth. "Shh! My mom is sleeping! If she hears you—"

She yanked my hand off her with a grunt. "Okay, fine. At least say hello to Innes and your precious Ollie."

In her car were both of them. Innes was wearing her signature scowl and Ollie was smiling at me, waving with his shoulders up at his ears.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw him. And he looked excited to see me. Oh, what a relief it is for him to feel the same.

"Take a picture of him. It would certainly last longer." Molly teased. "You are a photographer after all."

Flustered, I sigh. "Molly, what did you send me?"

"Well, I sent you a text saying," She takes out her phone and reads. "'Yo, Stephy, it's sure late as hell but wanna bail? If you don't answer me in six minutes, I'm gonna pull up to your house and shamelessly drag you to the speakeasy Ollie and I found no matter how loud you scream. Best regards—'" She snaps her phone shut. "'—Molly Blossom.' I am a woman of my word Steph. I came here to precisely drag you out."

She can't be serious. I've always heard about speakeasies. Secret underground places where adults (or reckless teens in my case) would sneak off to drink alcohol and listen to jazz. I've always wanted to see them. But you would never know where they would be held. And you had to have a password to get in. I certainly did not have a code. But Molly most certainly did.

"So?" She leaned closer. "You in?"

My eyes drifted to Ollie, eagerly waving his hands for me to join.

" . . . Give me five minutes."