Page 47 of Resisting the Fall

“Huh.” Moving along without an actual response, he pulled out his wallet. “The truck is low on gas. It shouldn’t need to be refilled before you get back, but just in case, take this.” He held out his credit card. “You can put in a couple of gallons, and I’ll fill the rest of the tank later.”

Was he serious right now? He was giving me his credit card? “Sure,” I said, eagerly accepting his offer.

When I tugged at the card, his hand moved with it, like he suddenly realized the potential problem with the situation. “Can I trust you with this?”

I grinned. “You probably shouldn’t.”

Both our hands remained fixed on the small, rectangular piece of plastic. The warmth of his skin reached mine, nearly causing me to release it, but he let go first. I slid the credit card into the back pocket of my jeans before he could change his mind.

He took a backward step, pulling in a quick breath. “Don’t go too crazy.”

“How crazy is too crazy? Like on a spectrum of a few household necessities and groceries for dinner to, say… a new car.”

“Maybe stick toward the household necessity and grocery side.”

Well, that was permission if I ever heard it. Plus, Ben and I were married. What sort of wife would I be if I didn’t see to some of my husband’s basic needs? Things like novelty socks to spice up his lame collection and a few decorations to level up his place.

“See you at one!” I said, cranking the window back up. With Ben’s card burning a hole in my back pocket and all sorts of ideas as to what I might buy to further my cause, I threw the truck in gear and eased it forward.

“Who has chickens we could borrow?” I asked Carson, the two of us leaning against the counter in the Prices’ kitchen, working out the details for our senior prank.

“Around here? Lots of people.”

“What about the Rosts?” I asked, glancing at Maven, who sat at the kitchen table studying for her precalculus final. She didn’t look up, but she stopped writing.

Carson laughed. “There is no way they’d let us borrow them. Not after Maven released those bags of goldfish into their pool.”

“I wasn’t thinking of asking,” I said.

Carson’s brows lifted, and he glanced at his sister. “Look what you’ve created. Are you proud?”

Maven finally looked up, a smile pulling at her lips and her eyes locking with mine. “I’ve never been prouder.”

I shrugged, like the suggestion wasn’t because of how unkind Mr. Rost had repeatedly been to Maven. My guess was he didn’t like that she was a better musician at the ripe old age of seventeen. “I mean, he is a teacher, which means he’s fair game.”

“True,” Carson said.

“I’m not saying I don’t love the idea,” Maven said, “but if you go to the Rosts’ house, I’m not coming with you guys.”

I walked to the chair beside her and dropped into it. “But we need your expertise.”

“You want my expertise?” She set down her pencil. “The ideal time to get the chickens would be before sunrise on the day of the prank. That way, not only will there be less chance of anyone noticing they’re gone beforehand, but as long as you don’t go barging into the coop, they should be pretty docile. To transport them, you’ll want to have a dog kennel or two. Put blankets at the bottom to prevent them from sliding around and making too much noise. It will also be less traumatizing for them.”

Carson and I shared a look.

“Park down the road from the house and enter through the side gate. Make sure you’re wearing clothes that aren’t distinguishable and cover your faces, because I’m pretty sure they have surveillance cameras now.”

“How would you get them into the school?” Carson asked, coming to sit at the table across from us.

She smirked and sent me a knowing glance. “Clearly, I’m a fan of using the back auditorium entrance. The janitor typically unlocks the school’s front doors by seven, so one of you would just need to slip inside, make your way to the auditorium without being seen, and open the door. It would probably be smart to have several extra hands to carry in the chickens. That way it’ll go faster and you won’t have to bring the kennels inside. You’ll have an hour before school starts, so have someone take the kennels home and drop them off. And make sure there aren’t any lingering feathers in the bed of the truck. That way, if Admin checks the cars in the parking lot, they won’t find any evidence.”

Carson laughed. “Sometimes you scare me, Maven.”

“Seriously.” I bumped my shoulder into her. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

Maven beamed, like it was the best compliment I’d ever given her. “Oh, one last thing. If you want to make the whole thing a little more fun, number the chickens using livestock markers—they’re nontoxic, temporary, and cost like two dollars at the farm supply store. If you bring nine chickens, number them one through ten, leaving off a number, say… seven, for instance. That way, once they’re all rounded up, everyone will think one is still missing.”

Carson leaned back, nodding. “Genius.”