I stood in Belle's room at 10:47 PM dressed head-to-toe in black like some kind of budget ninja, which given the circumstances wasn't that far off from reality.
Jordan slouched on Belle's bed in a black hoodie and dark jeans, his grey eyes barely open. He'd been complaining non-stop for twenty minutes about how this was stupid, how we were all going to die horribly, and how he should have stayed in his room where it was safe and didn't involve breaking into faculty offices.
"I hate this." Jordan's voice was flat. "I hate all of you. I hate heists. I especially hate—"
"We understand." Belle stepped out of her bathroom wearing tactical black leggings and a fitted black tank top. "You hate existing. Revolutionary observation."
My higher brain functions shut down immediately.
