Coin Heist (13 page)

Eighteen

JASON

Saturday. It had
to be a Saturday. Which sucked, but that was the only day we could do this. When I got to the Wawa parking lot, Alice and Dakota were already there, which wasn't a surprise since I was traveling on foot. It was strange to see them from a distance, in their weekend clothes and whatnot. Dakota looked pretty much the same, in a black North Face fleece and tight jeans, and Alice had her light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. It took me a few moments to notice she wasn't wearing her little beanie. She actually looked cute, and I could see the shape of her body for once, which was petite but not as boyish as I'd thought. When she turned around, she flashed me a big smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I said. “You guys ready?”

“I can drive,” she said, and she seemed a little nervous, for her. Maybe it was weird for all of us to be hanging out like this on a weekend.

She had a silver Mini, which was the perfect vehicle for a small person like her. From my seat on the passenger side, I was surprised to notice a little tube of lip gloss in the cup holder between us. Alice Drake used lip gloss?

Our goal: To go downtown and stake out the Mint. We'd already figured out that our optimal time for coin retrieval had to be a weekend, sometime in the early evening, after the facility shut down for the day—not as many staff people around, less traffic and fewer witnesses outside the building.

Now we just needed to, you know, plan an entry and escape route.

Well, the extra bonus was that this little trip allowed me to dodge yet another jail visit. As far as my mom knew—at least from what I'd told her over our oatmeal that morning—I was going to Zack's house to hang out. Never mind that Zack and I weren't really talking. Either my mom truly bought the excuse or she was tired of fighting with me, because she didn't say a word when she left.

There was hardly any traffic on a Saturday afternoon, and we made it into the city in fifteen minutes. We exited I-676 at Fifth Street and met Benny at the Starbucks at Third and Arch. He was standing outside. Alice honked and pulled up to the curb.

He nodded at us as he opened the back door. “S'up, guys.”

“Hey,” Dakota said.

He just stood there, smiling at her.

“Get in,” I said.

“Is it too tight there?” Alice asked. “This car was designed for smalls like me.”

“A little bit.” He tried to fit his legs in, awkwardly bending in half so his knees were practically up to his chin.

I knew I should offer to switch with him, let him have the front, but doing that would point out that I was at least five inches shorter than the guy, and I didn't need to remind anyone of that, especially with girls in the car. “It'll be a quick ride,” I said.

From there, we circled around the block, going back up Arch to the Mint building's south side. The façade of the building was all rectangles of concrete with a few skimpy windows at least thirty feet up from the sidewalk. It really was like a fortified castle. Once we were inside, we could use our counterfeit IDs, but how the hell were we gonna get in there in the first place? I tried not to show my doubts, though.

Along Fifth Street, there was the visitor entrance with its giant lettered sign, revolving door, and security post. Next to it was a staff entrance. None of those were options—they would obviously be closed after-hours.

“We could try to go in early, then hide somewhere and wait,” Alice said.

I'd already thought of that. “The problem is where?”

“A stairwell?” Benny suggested. “A closet?”

“No. They do entire building sweeps every hour, starting at ten minutes past the hour, then at twenty past on the next hour, then forty-five, and back to ten, ” Dakota said. “Anyone who's inside has to look like they belong there.”

“Turn here,” I instructed Alice, so we could check out the north side. “There's a door—or something.”

I was pointing to a pink painted metallic panel. It wasn't part of the wall, that was for sure, and there was a concrete barrier in front of it, suggesting that it was a sensitive security point.

Alice slowed down so we could have a look. “There's no handle,” she said. “Someone has to open it from the inside.”

She accelerated slightly and turned right on Sixth. Here, a few cars were parked on the sidewalk, and there was a guard booth with an arm gate. “Bingo,” she said.

As we closed in, we saw that on the other side of the gate was a driveway that went into some sort of underground garage.

“Yeah, that's gotta be it.” Benny leaned forward from the back seat, grabbing the back of Al's headrest. “That's our way in.”

“Can we park somewhere?” I asked.

Alice turned down a tiny street that probably could have held a horse and buggy back in the day, but was too big for more than a compact car. I silently thanked Alice's parents for buying her a Mini.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Dakota asked when we stopped. “What if a cop comes?”

“We'll say we're lost and reconfiguring our GPS,” Alice said, ready as usual with the right answer.

We sat there for two hours, taking turns in fifteen-minute shifts to watch the Mint behind us through the binoculars I'd brought. But there was nothing to see. Nobody came and went. Nobody.

My legs were cramped up from sitting, and I was getting ready to give up, head for home. “Maybe Saturday isn't a good day to get in. Maybe we need to come back on a weekday,” I said.

I still had my doubts about whether we could actually pull this whole thing off. It just seemed so daunting, and I didn't know if we could really do it. I'd wondered a few times whether we should just quit while we were ahead.

“Isn't the point of a stakeout that we wait until we actually see something?” Benny asked.

“Yeah, but how long? Are we gonna stay overnight?” I asked.

“I'm actually supposed to get my hair cut,” Dakota admitted. “And then there's a party . . .”

Alice slapped a palm on the steering wheel. “So pencil us in between your dye job and an eyebrow wax. You guys realize that our time is running out, right?”

“We have a couple of months, Alice. No one said this was going to be an all-day thing,” Dakota said. “I do have a life, you know.”

I felt bad then, seeing Alice's face. Because Dakota was basically saying that she didn't. “You don't need to remind us, Cunningham,” I said.

But if Alice was upset, she seemed to recover quickly. “Okay, fine, I'm not going to hold you all hostage if you'd rather be doing Jell-O shots. Let's just go.”

She put the car in reverse and I turned around to help guide her, to make sure she wasn't going up on the narrow curbs.

And that's when I saw it. A van heading for the gate “Wait wait wait!” I said, my heart galloping. “Stop!”

Alice hit the brakes and the others turned around. There it was, a white service van with blue lettering.
hansen hvac performance.

We watched as it approached the security booth. The driver inched down his window and said something to the guard. Then the arm lifted and a gigantic metal garage door rolled up and the van disappeared underneath the building.

“He's in. What time is it?” Benny asked.

“Four forty-five,” Dakota said.

“There you go,” Alice said, nodding. “I'll get a hold of the security log, and if they come back on a regular basis, that's our ticket.”

Fist bumps were exchanged. This shit was
on
.

On the way home, Alice insisted on dropping me off. “Are you sure?” I asked. “I can walk.”

“It's no problem.” Then she paused awkwardly. “Unless you're trying to commune with suburbia or something.”

“No, no. This is great. Thanks.” I looked at her car stereo and wondered what kind of music she listened to. Probably something interesting and obscure, something from another country and time. Or maybe she was into math rock. She was into math everything else. Maybe sometime I would make a playlist for her. Of course, that was usually something I only did for girlfriends, but she was cool.

There was no more business to discuss—we'd already agreed to meet up tomorrow to go over some technical details. “So what are you up to tonight?” she asked. “Are you going to that rager?”

“What rager?” I asked.

“You know, Junibel's party, a.k.a. the reason for Dakota's salon appointment.”

I wasn't. Back in the day I might have gotten an invite—I was peripherally friendly with those people, or maybe it was convenient to include me when they wanted a good weed source. These days, though, no one asked me to do anything. They pretty much just defaced my belongings and called me homophobic names.

I idly wondered if Zack would be invited. Probably. I wished I could be like Alice, above it all.

I shook my head. “I'm just gonna hang out. You?”

“Me too. I'm meeting up with some friends. Not that I was invited.”

“Yeah,” I said, realizing that she had a better social life than I did. Why did I always assume she didn't? Because of that stupid hat? And then, for some reason, I just let it slip, “My friends aren't really talking to me these days.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed, a little too loudly. “What happened?”

Ugh. Why did I have to do that? Now I looked like a loser. “The band broke up, and all the stuff with my dad . . . It's okay. I mean, it's not a big deal.”

She seemed to get that I didn't want it to be a drama, because she stepped it back. “They're all lemmings—you know that, right? If it wasn't you, it would be someone else. I've been there. You just have to let it blow over.”

She hadn't even brought it up, so I knew I had to. “I heard what you did the other day, with the rat. Thanks for that.”

“It wasn't a big deal. I enjoy the little creatures. I named him Chip.” Now she looked embarrassed. “Hey, you're welcome to come out with me if you want. We're just going to Greg's house.”

It was sweet of her, and for a moment I considered it. Maybe it would even be fun. But it would be really lame to tag along with her, just to have something to do. And if I was still hanging out with Zack and those guys, would I have even considered it? Probably not. That would make me a hypocrite.

“No worries,” I said. “I've got to take care of some stuff.”

“Well, you have my number if you change your mind. Otherwise see you tomorrow?” she said.

“Right,” I said. “Tomorrow.”

She pulled away from the apartment complex. I stood there watching the Mini disappear down the street. It was funny how normal it all felt, hanging out with Alice, and how for a moment I wished she wasn't leaving yet.

Nineteen

DAKOTA

Dylan was running
late. I paced around my living room, waiting for him to show up. Then, because I didn't want him to see me pacing or know that his lateness annoyed me, I went back up to my room.

What a strange day. I felt so awkward being with Benny and the rest of them, but especially Benny after I'd gone and done that stupid thing the other night. I mean, why did I have to kiss him? It was this crazy out-of-body experience, like something my lips did without prior authorization from my brain. Because if I'd thought about it all? It never would have happened. Just remembering it now made my cheeks hot with embarrassment.

Must. Not. Think about that.

I tried on some hoop earrings, then changed them up for diamond studs. I brushed my hair and rearranged my bangs flat, then swept to the side.

Finally, Frieda called up to tell me that Dylan was at the door.

Let him wait for me
, I thought.
Let him wonder
.
I brushed my hair a few more times, reapplied my powder, and then slowly made my way down the stairs.

“There you are,” he said with his crooked smile.

For the tiniest little second, I felt grateful for him, that he was so cute and so put together. Grateful for what a good couple we made in photos. I mean, there wasn't anyone else at HF I would have wanted to call my boyfriend. I stood up on my toes to kiss him.

“Wow,” he said. “Someone's horned up.”

“It's just a kiss!” Why did he have to make everything about sex? Then I thought of Benny again. Damn it.

“Well, I like it. I like it. I haven't seen enough of you lately, babe. I've missed you.”

I told Frieda I'd be back by my curfew, which was midnight. My parents were out at some gala, so I'd probably be home before them.

“Don't drink and drive,” she said, because she was like another parent to me.

“We won't,” Dylan said, because I'd probably drive us home.

And with that we were off in his Beamer.

Junibel lived in Wayne, practically the other end of the Main Line. By the time we got there, the party was super packed—there was already a line for the keg snaking out of her garage.

I found Junibel in her living room with Dylan's friend's Justin, her sometimes-hookup. They were locked together in some kind of swaying hug.

“Thank God,” she said as we came in. “The party needs you.”

It actually looked like everyone was doing fine without us—Junibel especially, who was hanging on to Justin by the back pockets of his jeans.

“Yo, we
are
the party,” Dylan said. “So where's the good stuff?”

She giggled as she broke away from Justin. “Hello to you, too. Look in my dad's study,” she said. “He's got some whiskey in there.”

“Let's go, bro,” Dylan said to Justin.

“But you just got here,” Junibel said.

“We've gotta catch up,” Dylan said, and he and Justin went off in the direction she'd indicated.

“Sorry, that was rude,” I said in their absence. I was used to making excuses for Dylan. The truth was, he could do whatever he wanted and there'd always be a girl who'd go out with him. Might as well be me, right? “So things are good with Justin?”

“For the moment.” She looked anxious. “I'm so glad you're here. I've missed you.”

I smiled. “What do you mean? I see you every day.”

“Not really. You're never around. Are you okay? I mean, are you mad at me?”

“Of course not.” I felt bad so I gave her a hug. “I've just been busy.”

Sometimes I wondered if we'd be friends if we hadn't known each other since we were ten, or if we went to a bigger school, where there were more options. Because we didn't have all that much in common anymore. I tried not to think about it too much, though. Who else would I even hang out with?

“Dude. Guess who's here?” Justin said as he and Dylan came back into the room, carrying a squat bottle of bourbon.

“Who?” Junibel asked, rolling her eyes. “Those Berwyn Prep kids again? I told them not to come back.”

“Naw,” Dylan said. “Benito. We just saw him in the kitchen.”

Junibel grabbed the bottle from Justin and took a gulp. “That kid from the football team? How did he get to my party?”

My breath caught in my chest. Benny was here? That was highly unusual. From what I knew, he never went to HF parties. I had to see this for myself.

“I'm going to get a beer,” I said after a few more beats of conversation, not wanting to be super-obvious. “Does anyone want anything?”

“Not me,” Junibel said. “Just make sure no one's breaking anything or eating anything.”

I crossed through the living room and into the open kitchen/dining room. And there he was, standing by the center island talking to some football dudes. He was wearing a red sweater I'd never seen before, which made his chest look extra broad and his dark hair extra dark.

I don't know why I was so surprised. I mean, I'd been hanging out with him just a few hours earlier. Well, not really hanging out, but whatever. Still, it was like seeing a ghost. A ghost with an incredibly sexy jawline.

Was I . . .
attracted
to him?

He looked up as soon as I walked in.

“Hey,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged and that tiny smile unfurled across his face. “Same as you.”

“Later, Ben.” He watched as the two other guys drifted away, off to go find some girls, I was sure.

“Well, don't let me keep you,” I said, anxious all of a sudden. “I mean if you want to hang out with your friends.” Maybe he didn't want to be seen talking to me in the same way I probably should have not wanted to be seen with him.

He gave me a look, like
come on
. “You're my friend.”

I stared into the dark fringe of his eyelashes and felt a pleasant tingling, like when you come in from the cold and the numbness in your fingers and toes starts to wear off. Then I remembered the kissing.
Oh.
Shoot
. Was that why he showed up? Because of me? It couldn't be, could it? I felt embarrassed all over again. And awkward, too.

“Sure,” I said finally, not sure how to respond. I hoped it wasn't some kind of test. “I'm your friend.”

That's when Dylan came into the room, and I was almost relieved, because it broke the moment of us staring at each other thinking our private thoughts, the tension of which was getting to be unbearable. “Dj'you get your drink, babe?” he turned to Benny. “What's up, Benito?”

“My name's Benny,” he said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Benjamin, actually.”

“Oh yeah? Benjamin Yizar the Fourth, I presume.” Dylan did a fake, mocking bow, and I was mortified.

“That's my name,” Benny said. “But there's only one.”

“And that makes you special?”

Benny shrugged. “It makes me . . . me.”

“But you do think you're special, right? You're the wonder kid on the scholarship? We're supposed to roll out the red carpet for you when you show up at our party?”

“I never said that.” I could see Benny's jaw pulse slightly. He probably didn't like being called out for the scholarship thing.

“Well, you act that way.”

“Look, there's no need to be a dick,” Benny said quietly.

Dylan got in his face. “Did you just call me a dick, new guy?”

Gauntlet thrown. This was bad. Dylan lived for this kind of stuff, and when he started with someone, it was hard to calm him down. I wanted to do something, say something, but I was afraid, I guess, because I didn't want to call more attention to the fact that I knew Benny better than I was supposed to. Much better, actually. Wouldn't they all know something was up if I defended him now? There was no good excuse as to why we'd be friends. But there was another reason, too. I was worried what people would think—about me, I mean. He wasn't the kind of guy anyone else would envy me being with. He was practically a foot taller than me—we'd look terrible in pictures. He was, as Junibel would say, a nonentity.

So instead of trying to stop it I just stood there, worrying and watching the conversation bounce back and forth.

“Just step off,” Benny said, but I noticed the hands came out of his pockets. “I'm minding my own business.”

Dylan laughed. “Minding your own business. In Junibel's kitchen. Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay what?” Benny asked, and I could see the anger starting to crack through.

Benny took a few steps toward him, and that's when
I
felt scared. I didn't want anyone to get hurt, and I didn't want anyone to get in trouble. If they fought, it was likely both things would happen, not to mention the possibility of cops coming to break up Junibel's party, which was bad for all of us. At the same time, I almost wished Benny would defend himself. Dylan
was
being a dick. He deserved what was coming to him.

“Okay, let's go.” Dylan gestured for the back door leading to Junibel's patio. Others were watching now. Kids from the lacrosse team, and a couple of junior girls. They'd all stopped what they were doing when they sensed what was happening in the kitchen.

Benny paused for a moment, like he was almost considering getting into it. I could see his eyes registering the situation. He looked around at all the people watching, and he could see like I could that they were aching for a fight. They wanted more than anything for this to get ugly.

Then he shook his head, clearly trying to take the high road. “Forget it. I'm not gonna fight you.”

“Why?”

“Because then I'd be doing exactly what you expect me to do.”

Dylan tensed up beside me. “So?”

“Dylan, let's go play quarters,” I said, finding my voice all of a sudden. “You said we could play quarters tonight.”

He was still staring at Benny, hard, and I grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away. “So?” he asked again.

Benny shrugged. “So it would just be too easy. Let's keep your pretty face clean, huh?” he said mockingly. Quiet but fierce.

“What the fuck? I'll hurt you.”

But I could tell Dylan was hesitating. “Come on, Dylan,” I said. “Forget it.”

“Yeah,” Dylan said after what seemed like an eternity. I felt his arm muscle relaxing. “All right. Get your beer, babe. I'll meet you in the living room.”

I waited a few beats for him to stalk off, and then I looked at Benny. “Sorry . . . he's not always like that.” How many times would I have to do this tonight?

“Forget it.” Benny shook his head. I could no longer read him, and that was almost worse because I felt guilt weighing on me. Why hadn't I done anything? Here Benny was, making the rest of us seem like assholes. He just had that way about him.

“I'm serious. He's just . . . insecure.” I don't know why but I wanted to make it okay, I wanted to make sure he knew that I had nothing to do with the way Dylan was acting. Kissing Benny had been a mistake, I knew that now, but it wasn't too late to fix things so we could still be okay around each other.

Benny's face revealed nothing. “Don't worry about it.”

“He wouldn't really fight you. I'm sure he was just joking—”

Benny cut me off. “—I said, don't worry. Go ahead. Go play your game.”

“I'm just trying to be nice.”

“You're looking out for you,” he said. “Do you need me to tell you it's all okay so you don't feel bad? Grow up, Dakota. Quit pretending to be something you're not. You're not as good at it as you think.”

“What did you just say to me?” I whispered. Everyone else had cleared out of the kitchen by now. No fight; nothing to see. It was just me and Benny.

“Don't worry about it.”

I slammed my hand down on the counter. “No. Tell me! Say it!”

“Little Miss Perfect. No one here cares about the real you anyway, right?” he snarled. “Isn't that what you said?”

I couldn't believe he was turning my own words against me. “No, I said no one
knew
the real me.”

“Same difference, right? It's all an act.”

“It's not an . . . act. It's just—it's hard—”

“You said you fake it. You pretend to be someone you're not and meanwhile you've got all your little secrets. What would they think, Dakota? What would they think if they found out?”

Oh god. Did he know about my throwing up? How the hell could he? Nobody knew about what I did all alone. Then I remembered, the day he saw me coming out of the bathroom. Benny might have been quiet and on the fringes of HF, but obviously he was tuned in to what was going on.

But I don't,
I wanted to say. I hadn't in weeks. I was crushed. He must have thought I was so . . . pitiful.

And then I felt mad. Why should I have to justify myself? I mean, what did I do? But I knew. When it actually had counted, I'd done exactly nothing. I stayed quiet and let Dylan insult him in front of everyone at the party. I'd sold him out.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered.

“Save your apologies,” he said. “We're not friends.”

The way he said it was so cold, I wanted to die right then and there, and I knew no matter what happened at this party, from here on out, the night was ruined. Spoiled. Poisoned, actually. The words echoed in my head as I walked away:
Not friends.