• i
    It sounded like a good idea
    at first.
    And I knew that he would be there,
    taking part in this little prank that the others had
    dreamed up,
    this little prank that could easily change
    into something defiant and delinquent.
    But I knew that he would be there,
    and so I had no choice
    but to go
    because he would like that.

    ii
    We were almost done,
    giggling, feeling clever, sneaky
    almost invincible,
    but also trying to stop that warm, sticky feeling
    of guilt. At least I was.
    and he was talking to me, laughing at my jokes
    and telling me how cool it was that I was doing this
    because he hadn’t pegged me for that type,
    when somebody yelled something about a car
    a cop car
    possibly two of them
    and we dissolved into panic
    running from authority
    like deer
    from wolves.

    iii
    A few got away
    but not all of us.
    I didn’t.
    He did.
    They made us call our parents,
    stood there while we dialed
    and talked.
    I closed my eyes as I told her what had happened,
    as if that would help
    as if that would make her less mad.
    That warm, sticky feeling
    guilt
    washed over me
    along with a second wave
    a wave of knowing I was in trouble
    that kind of thick, opaque trouble
    that you can’t do anything about