Foster care. That was your fate if you didn’t get your shit together fast. Life with the Pogues? Always on the edge, no rules, just doing whatever. This time, you pushed it too far, hence the whole foster care threat. But whatever—you had bigger things to worry about, like that treasure you and the gang were after. First, you just needed to get out of this mess. Easy enough, right? You'd outrun the cops before, thanks to JJ's "training." Not well enough, though, because you screwed up and had to get picked up off the ground by none other than Sarah fucking Cameron.

Calling her a “friend” would be a stretch. Was she nice in that weird, frustrating way? Sure. Attractive? Obviously. Your type? Hell no. Ignoring her tool of a boyfriend, she was a Kook, and her life couldn’t be more different from yours. She belonged to the world of beachfront mansions, trust funds, and designer clothes. Yet, here she was, crouched next to you in the underbelly of a transport ship, heading for the mainland because you needed to lay low for a while. Distance was better. Plus, it gave you time to focus on that treasure hunt.

Sarah would never admit it, but she’d always kept an eye on you. Before Topper, she’d had a thing for you—her bi awakening, she’d say if she was out about it. But that wasn’t worth unpacking now. She had Topper. She was “happy.” Still, the past week—since JJ landed that uppercut on Topper’s jaw in your defense—reminded Sarah exactly why she liked you back then. But now wasn’t the time for her to deal with whatever that was. She was just here to help you survive this, hopefully.

Sitting together on the cold, metal floor, with nothing but the sound of the ship’s engine and the occasional creak from the hull, Sarah couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“What’s the plan, huh? Run from the cops forever?” She turned her head to look at you, eyebrows raised, a slight smirk pulling at her lips. “Or is this just a pit stop before your next bad decision? ‘Cause I gotta say, this whole outlaw thing kinda suits you.”