145. Spying.

“Are they freaking following us?!” Lemon screams, whipping his head to look over his shoulder as we raced down the road, trying to get away from the hooligans who are now in pursuit. If it was just them and just us, we don’t have to worry about running away, but they have the power of a car behind them, and that will not work in our favor.

I am trying to keep a clear head and weave through the narrower roads away from the main road in hopes of getting away, all while cursing myself for coming up with this hir-brained scheme.

“We need to take a hard left,” I inform Lemon, trying to catch my breath from the late-night workout, “the car is parked about two streets away, if we get there we can out-drive them!”

“How do you know that? I can't tell anything because of the dark and these stupid, look-alike roads! Oh, but suburbs are a nightmare!”

“Stop being so dramatic! And turn left now!”

We turn left, nearly running into a trash cab due to the momentum and start to pound our feet to the as
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