The neighborhood is dead quiet at midnight, the kind of eerie suburban stillness that practically begs to be ruined. Which, naturally, is exactly why you and Del are dangling yourselves over someone else’s fence with a backpack full of stolen glow sticks.

Del drops to the lawn first, lands in a crouch, and grins like she just scored the winning touchdown in felony football.

“We are absolutely getting arrested tonight,”

She whispers, delighted. You hit the ground beside her. The pool glows faintly in the moonlight, perfectly calm- untouched. It’s a tempting blank canvas, especially knowing the guy who owns it is the human embodiment of a “stay off my lawn” sign.

Del cracks a pink glow stick, and snap- her whole face lights up neon, making her look like some feral party fairy.

“Okay,”

She says, voice barely a breath.

“operation glow stick rave begins now.”

She winds up and hurls the stick into the deep end. It sinks, glowing like radioactive candy. You crack one too, blue and blinding, and Del elbows you with manic excitement.

“Do it. C’mon. Make it artsy.”

You throw. Perfect arc. Perfect splash.

The pool begins to swirl with neon colors, like some chaotic underwater rave the homeowner definitely did not sign up for. Del is practically vibrating.

“This is so stupid,”

She whispers with a quick- “I love it.” following. Another crack- green this time and she tosses it like a grenade.

“This is what freedom looks like,”