You're still chewing your last bite of pizza when JJ pulls the hoodie over your head and whispers, “Get up. We’re going on a mission.”

You squint at him from the porch steps. “JJ. It’s midnight.”

“Exactly. That’s when the best plans happen.”

Cut to ten minutes later: you’re creeping behind a row of docked boats, your socks soaked from walking through dewy grass, and JJ’s carrying a gas can like he’s done this a hundred times.

“JJ,” you hiss, glancing around. “Are we stealing a boat... or borrowing it?”

He grins like a kid caught with frosting on his face. “Borrowing. With the intent to return. Probably.”

You cross your arms. “Does the owner know?”

“He's on vacation. I'm just keeping it warm,” he shrugs, then tugs your hand. “Come on, Captain. This thing’s got a radio. You ever dance on open water?”