Paper Hearts [Brallon-ish]

86 days

Brendon had put aside the ideas he had with the spray paint and everything else he'd bought for a couple days after, replacing the plans with scoping out places to invade.

"I say we break into the head of the school's office house," he said, jabbing a finger at the window to point to a small building across the campus "I haven't seen him yet, but I've heard people say that he's pretty chill, but pretty nasty when someone's doing shit."

"What's his name?"

"I think it's like Spencer Smith or something like that." Brendon muttered under his breath "don't ask how I know that." He shook his head like a dog drying off after a bath, confused by his own thoughts.

I shrugged and dismissed the request, settling back down on his couch and staring at the blank tv screen. The reception was better than ever, since everyone had left and half the devices hooked up to the wifi we weren't allowed to have weren't jamming the signal anymore. I would've thought the school would've figured it out by now, but I guess not. The students were brighter than the staff members.

"What would we even do in his office house? He's literally the head of Seacoast. We'd get busted immediately."

Brendon shrugged and sprawled lazily across the floor, rolling underneath the plastic coffee table and closing his eyes.

"By the way it's Christmas and we're going to Petes house for dinner."

"Fine with me."

"We were going whether you liked it or not."

.:..::..:::..::.:..

Patrick swung by to pick us up, because 1) I had no idea where Petes house was 2) Brendon had had a couple drinks already even though it was barely noon and 3) the keys to Brendon's car were hidden in his room and he refused to give them to me. Which was stupid because his unused car was probably rusting in the parking lot from all the rain.

"How's your 4 days of winter break going?" Patrick yelled back to me as soon as I slammed the back door shut, thumping Brendon shoulder with the back of his hand when he settled in.

"Very tiring," I told him, speaking for the two of us "but very fun. What about you?"

"Well Petes been trying to get a hold of me nonstop the entire time and he has no idea that I ditched camping with my family to see him, so pretty great."

"Ew, camping for Christmas?"

"My family is fuckin' weird, man."

I laughed and then everyone else did, spare Ryan because he wasn't here yet. I couldn't remember if we were swinging by to pick him up or if we'd meet him there.

My questions were answered, however, when a baby blue and metallic silver 1961 corvette honked obnoxiously a couple times behind us with Ryan waving in the drivers seat with an open mouthed smile. Patrick waved back and Brendon arched around the corner of his chair to peek back at Ryan's corvette like he didn't believe it was real.

"I never thought his parents would give in to the corvette," he nodded in approval with an impressed smirk and returned to a normal sitting position "I could've sworn they were getting him the buggy."

Well I mean if one of your parents is a brain surgeon you've probably got to have a large income at home. Although I'd never really thought of Ryan as one of those spoiled rich kids because he'd never acted like it. Which was a good thing, I'm not complaining.

But it led me to the question as to why I was the one paying for lunch and not him.

"It's a sweet car too." Patrick muttered under his breath, probably a little jealous but still happy for his friend. Brendon hummed in agreement, and our ride swerved into a large dirt clearing with a poorly painted sign reading "Crest Hill Trailer Park" in huge white peeling letters.