We stay slouched against the wall for at least ten minutes, waiting for the inevitable, but we never hear any car doors slam. The cop just sits in his vehicle watching the building. Through our whispered chatter, we've determined that this cop has probably been stationed here to keep trespassers out. Too bad he showed up a little too late—or too early in our case. I don't think he even realizes that we're in the building at all.

Once we come to this conclusion, Jamie and I begin making our way towards the stairs. I'm on all fours as I crawl along the filthy ground, but Jamie is basically crab-walking across the floor, only he's got his legs dragging behind him and has to keep taking breaks to rest his arms. The lights from the police car outside offer wonderful guidance as we maneuver our way through the rickety old structure. Finding the stairs to the basement, we creep our way down as quickly as possible.

We backtrack until we spot the broken window that we'd entered, and that's when we see them. Well, their shadows anyway. Normally, I'd be spooked out of my mind at the site of three dark, human-shaped images in the distance, but with the police standing guard outside, all fear of the paranormal has vanished.

A hissing noise from Jamie's direction has me pausing to ask if he's okay.

"Yeah," he mutters, though his voice sounds slightly strained. "Just stepped on something. Let's keep going."

I don't question him further, too anxious to get out of this stupid place to be bothered.

Finally approaching the rest of the group, the five of us try our best to come up with some kind of brilliant plan of escape. The best we can think of is to climb out the way we came and then crawl our way beneath the headlight beams.

I've never done anything so epic and thrilling as trying to sneak past a cop. It's a beautiful moment. As my elbows dig into the ground and my legs press me forward, I peer over at the vehicle idling not even ten meters away. I feel all James Bond and Jason Bourne minus the cool confidence. It might not show on the outside, but I'm quivering like a leaf in the breeze as I do my best to shuffle, undetected, beneath the headlights. There's barely even a foot of leeway, so if I lift my head even a fraction too high, we're caught.

The house we just vacated stands halfway inside an alcove of trees, and now, as we slither gracelessly across the ground, I'm wondering if I'll ever make it into the wooded protection. Those trees scream freedom, but they feel miles away.

Not a word is uttered as five teenagers do their best to not get caught breaking the law. And somehow, we manage to survive. Once we're all safely inside the tree line, we break out into a run. I'm not even sure if we're headed in the right direction, but Dillon's got the lead and I find myself trusting his mental map.

Reaching the edge of the property presents another obstacle. Apparently, the entire Ably land is protected by a wire fence. Not a simple wire fence though. This thing looks mean with barbed wires sticking out at all angles ready to impale any intruders. I don't realize that Jamie's lagging behind until I hear him approaching a moment later, his breathing ragged and his steps exaggerated by a limp.

"We're just going to have to do it," Rosa tells us, clearly not rattled by the idea of having her skin shredded. "Or, we wait out the cop and backtrack the way we came."

"My mom's gonna kill me," I mumble to myself.

"Maybe not," Jamie says, smirking, even though there's a pained look beneath the smile. "She liked your hair. Maybe she supports law-breaking too."

"I suppose it's possible," I agree. "Though, not likely."

"Aren't you sleeping at Justine's house tonight?" Dillon asks.

"Oh, you don't know her parents," Rosa tells him, her voice dark and ominous. "They once organized a search and rescue team for Justine..." she pauses for dramatic effect, "and she was only an hour late."

Dillon hums in response, his brows lifted high in surprise.

Taking a vote, we decide to risk it and find a way through the fence. Justine's parents are scary strict, and if we're out past curfew, I'm positive they'll have my mom and Rosa's mom on the phone within seconds devising a plan on how to properly punish three irresponsible children. And then we'll all be denied the privilege of sleep-overs until the summer's over. Deciding that a few scratches are worth the pain, we prepare ourselves to crawl beneath the nasty fence.

Dillon and Jamie pull the wires up high enough for us three girls to fit through. Then, I take over Dillon's spot and hold the wires while he crawls through. Jamie has the most trouble and I hear that same painful hiss press against his teeth when one of the wire claws snags his shirt.

"You okay, man," Dillon asks.

"I'll be fi—" Another hiss. "Dang it! How'd you all make it through without a scratch?"

It's a rhetorical question, and based on Jamie's obvious irritation, he's not interested in a response. So, we all just watch as he struggles his way through the wires and finally makes it out on the other side.

"You're bleeding," Justine observes, her eyes raking over several red strips along his back.

"I know."

"How did you manage to get so torn up?" Dillon wonders, his eyes taking in Jamie's injuries. "I'm way bulkier than you."

"Dunno, man," Jamie shrugs, his eyes hiding humor within them. "I'm prone to injuries. Kinda surprised I didn't lose an arm this time."

Dillon chuckles and then jogs to meet up with Justine and Rosa who are several meters ahead of us. The trees have started to thin out, and I can see cornfields in the distance. Can't say I'm thrilled by the idea of walking through them, but it's better than having handcuffs thrown around my wrists—though, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't have been arrested for entering an abandoned house... right?

"You're limping!" I suddenly notice, spotting Jamie's awkward gait out of my side vision.

"Yep," he responds shortly.

At first I worry that it's his prosthetic causing him the problem, but then I realize that he's focusing his weight onto the prosthetic to keep pressure off the right.

"Did the barbed fence snag your leg too?"

"Nope."

"What happened?" I question, not caring that he's clearly not in the mood to discuss it.

"Stepped on something."

Oh yeah. He'd mentioned that when we were in the basement. I just hadn't realized the extent of the damage.

I nod slowly, my eyes scrutinizing his face to see if I can register how much pain he's in by the subtle grimace he keeps trying to hide. My face softens as I watch him stumble, and he must sense my sympathy because his shoulders stiffen and he attempts to mask the severity of his limp.

"Are you mad at me?" I ask softly, confused by the irritation that seems to be so directed at me.

"What?" He turns sharply to look at me. "No. Of course not." He takes a breath, turning his face toward the sky for a moment and then mutters a quiet, "sorry."

I follow his gaze, relishing in the vastness of the dark that cloaks itself around us. "What's wrong then?"

He doesn't respond for awhile and I wonder if he will. Instead, he drops his gaze to his hands before shoving them into his jean pockets.

"Just trying to deal with some stuff," he offers vaguely.

"Stuff?"

"Yeah."

His single-word response immediately shuts down the conversation. As much as I'd love to push and pry for a reason, I refrain. Truth is, I think I might be the 'stuff' he's dealing with. He's only been snappy with me tonight, and I've noticed a strange tension between us. His humor is gone, replaced with a sullen attitude that's making me uneasy. Because, for the first time since we've officially become friends again, I don't comfortable with him.

I wring my hands together, wishing I could abandon him to his dark mood and run up ahead where I can goof off with my friends. The sound of their laughter echoes through my ear canals like a siren luring in her prey. I feel antsy with the need to escape Jamie, but I can't. It's not in my nature to leave someone to deal with their thoughts alone. So instead, I decide to be the silent support that he hopefully needs right now.

We finally get back to the car and we're all just about to pile in when Jamie speaks up for the first time in five minutes.

"Does anyone happen to have an extra piece of clothing on them that they wouldn't mind ruining?"

"Uh, odd question, but no," Justine answers before slipping into her original spot in the backseat next to the window.

"No," Dillon says, analyzing Jamie for a moment. "For your back, you mean?"

"Uh, no," Jamie tells him, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I think I stepped on some glass back in the basement. It punctured clear through my shoe."

"On your right foot!" Dillon's clearly concerned by this news. "Gosh Jamie, you're a mess."

"I know," he sighs, glancing around distractedly as if looking for another solution. Giving up, he sighs and pulls his own shirt over his head.

"What are you—" I start to ask, but instantly shut my lips when I get a pretty view of his impeccable physique. He doesn't have the drool-worthy six-pack like most girls would hope, but there's obvious firmness. He's got those muscle lines that lead from the bottom of his ribcage down into the waistband of his jeans. He looks solid but thin... in the very best kind of way.

He ignores my gawking and slips into the driver's seat, leaving the door open and his legs planted on the gravel road so he can wrap his T-shirt around his bleeding foot. I watch him remove his shoe and can actually taste acid on my tongue when I get a view of the sliced tissue.

"Uh, Dillon?" Jamie says as his eyes digest the level of damage done to his foot. "I think you're gonna have to drive."

"That bad?" Dillon's already in the passenger seat, but he leans clear across the center console and peers over Jamie's shoulder to get a look at the injury. "Oh, sick, dude!"

"Yeah." Jamie just sighs as he leans sideways so his shoulder is rested against the back of the seat.

He looks tired. My bet is that our little adventure took a much larger toll on Jamie than the rest of us. Considering he had to drag himself around the entire haunted house using just his arms while the rest of us crawled around like dogs, and then he had to walk nearly a mile and a half while his prosthetic supported his bloodied foot. Just thinking about it makes me tired.

Since Jamie can't hop around the vehicle on his prosthetic, Dillon has to drag him across the console and into the passenger seat. With the amount of grunting coming from Dillon, you'd think he was dragging a cow. Then again, Jamie is all muscle and no fat, and I've heard muscle weighs more.

Dillon's got this hands under Jamie's armpits as he heaves him backward across the car, and as Jamie passes the gap between the front seat headrests', he winks at the three of us in the back. Justine barks out a laugh while Rosa and I just stare. Honestly, I'm not seeing the humor in all this. I'm a bit perturbed by Jamie's ability to switch on his good mood around everyone but me. So, rather than chuckle along with Justine at the sight of Dillon struggling to lug one-hundred and seventy pounds of deadweight, I turn my attention towards Rosa's window where I gaze at the haunted house in the distance.

What started off as a night of adventure and flirty fun, somehow diminished into me sulking in my own private bubble. I feel drained. Physically and emotionally. I've got no clue how I'm supposed to deal with Jamie anymore, and as much as I want friendship, I'm not sure if I can do it. Not if it's gonna be like this. Though, maybe it's my fault. I'm just bad at being friends with guys I have bigger feelings for. I can't fake it and pretend that him giving special attention to other girls doesn't bother me. My feelings don't work like that. I'm not exactly the jealous type, but it still hurts.

"So," Jamie starts to say a few minutes into the drive back to Wendy's, "Did you guys get to explore much of the third floor?"

The car goes quiet for a moment as Dillon turns back to shoot perplexed glances at Rosa and Justine before returning his attention to the road.

"Uh," he quickly glances at Jamie. "We never made it to the third floor."

Now it's Jamie's turn to turn and face me, our faces perfect mirrors of each other: eyes wide, mouth's slightly agape.

"You're messing with us, right?" Jamie laughs, but when nobody else joins in, his face falls. "Seriously?"

"Seems we got a real life, haunted house on our hands," Rosa says beside me, and even though she's practically whispering, I'm sure everyone hears her.

By the time we arrive back at Wendy's, I swear I've lost two years off my life. Or, with the speed Dillon was going, maybe we outran the speed of light and I'm somehow actually younger now. Either way, Dillon drives freakishly fast and I even though I hated it... I also sort of loved it. So thrilling and invigorating. Seems I'm all about the thrill-seeking tonight. I never saw myself as that kinda girl.

Jumping from the vehicle, Rosa spouts a few nasty Spanish obscenities at Dillon for his recklessness—I only know this because she taught me all her favorite Spanish curse words a few months back. There was quite an extensive list. Justine, on the other hand, simply stares at him as Rosa attacks without mercy. I swear her eyes are filled with hopes and dreams as she watches him stuff his hands in his pockets as he simply absorbs Rosa's verbal attack. And then with a simple 'goodnight, ladies', he drops back into the driver's seat.

"Do you think he heard a word I said?" Rosa asks, irritated.

"Doubtful," I answer.

"He doesn't know Spanish, you dimwit," Justine barks, yanking her keys from her purse and jingling them around her finger. "Wanna grab some chocolate milkshakes through the drive-thru before we head home?"

"Yes." Our simultaneous response has Rosa and I glancing at each other as we try not to crack a smile.

Just as we slip into Justine's car, I risk a glance back at Dillon and Jamie where they sit idling as they wait for us three girls to get safely into our vehicle. Dillon's not even watching us, too focused on drumming a rhythm into the steering wheel. But Jamie's definitely looking this way and his eyes are riveted to me.

When he sees that I've caught him staring, he drops his gaze briefly, as if in thought, and then glances back up at me. His expression is serious, like he's trying to decipher something, and then without a nod of acknowledgment or a wave goodbye, he turns away from me and mutters something to Dillon before the two of them peel out of the parking lot. And I'm left standing here, more baffled than ever.

Jamie Gallagher, what's going on with you?

---

The true story:

This actually happened, only it was on Halloween night and a cop had been stationed outside the abandoned building to keep kids out. This building was once a nursing home where several patients had died and been buried in unmarked graves on the same grounds. We'd all heard these rumors about doors shutting while people were in there. Some of the ppl who'd claimed to hear it had been friends of ours, so we thought it would be creepy and fun to see if this was true.

Anyway, my friends and I decided to wait out the cop by hiding out in the trees beside the house. When he left, we all climbed into the home through the basement window because the front door was boarded up. While we were inside, the cop came back. We were all on the 2nd floor trying to figure out how to escape when we heard a door slam downstairs. At first we thought it was the cop entering the house. Later realized the cop never even got out of his vehicle. Seems the rumors were true. 😱👻👀🧟‍♂️

The whole crawling across the ground army style beneath the cop's headlights was totally true. We all wonder if the cop actually saw us that night but was too entertained watching us trying to escape to bother doing anything about it. Haha!

I found a video someone posted on the building we explored. It's posted at the top of the page if you're curious about the inside. Below is a picture of the building. :)

That large basement window on the left is where we crawled in.