The bass thumps loudly from one of them. A guy hangs out the window of the other truck, screaming what I think is, “We have arrived!” Clover gets out of the bass-thumping truck. If I didn’t have A.J. Gonzalez standing next to me, I’d probably be scared out of my freaking mind to have these guys all coming at me at once. Clover laughs as one of the other guys whoops and hollers like an idiot. “You made it,” I say to Clover as he nears us. I wasn’t sure if anyone could really help us on a Wednesday night with such short notice. He nods. “Pretty easy to find. So, uh, this stuff we’re going to pick up, we’re stealing it, right? Like this is illegal?” he asks, his dark hair shielding his face in the glow of the streetlamp. “Um, no,” A.J. says. “The city said we could have the stuff if we got it out of there tonight, which is why we needed fast help.” “Ohhhh,” Clover says. He eases in closer, so only we can hear him. “Don’t tell the other guys. Kieran wouldn’t do anything illegal.
