It had been a while since I drove a motorcycle, so my skills were a little rusty. Nonetheless, I still enjoyed gripping the turns and exceeding every speed limit by at least 20! The whole way back to Peter's, I wore a huge grin on my face—a look I could only get if I was on a serious adrenaline high. Peter was also having the time of his life, even though it was still a bit slow for him. After wheeling the bike into his garage, Peter pulled out all the paints I had told him to get.

"Your mom's not here?" I checked.

"At a dance recital for my little sister," he answered plainly as he popped the lid of a paint can.

"You have a little sister?" I quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, and a twin one," he added.

"You have a twin?" I laughed, plopping down at the other end of the bike, "Does she look like you?"

"Not really," he shrugged, "She doesn't really like to associate herself with my anyway…seems like that's most of my family,"

"Hey, welcome to the club," I smirked.

Peter only chuckled and rolled his eyes. We set to work on making the bike totally unrecognizable—he took the right side and I took the left, painting cyan blue over the original red. I had even dug out an old license plate I had stolen a while back. One might say I took it off the car by impulse, but I liked to think I was saving it for an occasion like this. That way it could at least look like it wasn't swiped straight from the dealer.

As we went onto the third coat, I began to notice something gnawing at Peter. He seemed way too invested in the spot of paint he was working on, like he was trying to avoid thinking about something else. Eventually, he started giving irritated huffs and scratching the back of his neck. When he gave in, he slumped his shoulders and set the paint roller down. Maybe all the tedious work was boring him.

"Wanna take a break?" I offered, peering over the motorcycle at him.

"What?" he looked up from the floor, "Oh, no, just um…"

He was silent for a few moments, wondering whether or not he should ask. It seemed a little out of the blue, but the curiosity was just burning away at him, so he went ahead and asked.

"So, you dated a girl?" he tried to say as casually as possible, "Must've been pretty crazy,"

"Not really," I shrugged, "Like dating a guy, but prettier—though I guess I wouldn't know. I've never dated a guy."

"So like…" he mumbled, still trying to place his words tactfully, "What's it like?"

I couldn't help but smile and shake my head, "You wanna hear about my girl-on-girl shit so you can get off to it later?"

"What? No!" he said quickly, "I'm just…I just wanna know what it's like, y'know? I don't get to talk to girls who have dated other girls often,"

"Not that you know, anyway," I teased him.

Setting my paint and gloves to the side, I stood up from my side and walked over to his. I sat down next to him, hugging my knees to my chest.

"If I tell you about my past love life, you gotta tell me yours," I smirked.

"Deal. I have never dated ever. Done, now you go!" he smiled curtly.

The little chucklefuck. Of course he never dated. I rolled my eyes and thought back to my days as a high school freshman.

"Her name was Serah," I began, "We sat next to each other in half of our classes and seeing each other was always the highlight of our days. She was into competitive video gaming, too, and would have local tournaments at the arcade. You know that one game the arcade has—Sinistar?"

"Yeah,"

"It's been years since she last played that game and her name is still number one on the high score list. If you go and check, you'll see it."

"Sounds like a nerd," he joked.

"She kind of was," I shrugged, "But we were both social weirdos, so we got along pretty well. But we both had our obsessions and eventually they tore us apart. Serah was addicted to video games and I was addicted to petty thievery. Over time, we started caring less about each other and more of when we could get our next fix."

Peter noticed my tone shifted to a sadder one as my eyes fell to his garage floor and studied the cracks in the ground.

"I guess it was lack of interest that broke us up? But she moved away shortly after, so it wouldn't have worked anyways," I continued, "But Serah was still an amazing friend. She was fearless. She always had a snarky comeback for everything. She was so short and cute. She made the best food…"

As I spoke, my voice grew softer and softer. I slowly let my thoughts take me back to when I was sixteen, eating Serah's homemade cookies while she taught me how to play Galaga. I would later steal my own copy of the game later that afternoon. The garage became very quiet all of a sudden as Peter watched me stare off into space and reminisce.

Then I added out of nowhere, "She…was a mutant."

"What?" he gasped.

He had not seen that plot twist coming! I blinked and glanced up from the floor, looking as just a shocked as he was.

"Yeah. I still hardly believe it myself," I ran a hand through my hair, "I mean, she never told me. It wasn't until after she moved away that one of her friends brought it up. She was just really good at hiding it, I guess."

"What were her powers" Peter asked.

"Her friend gave it a name…something techno…oh—technokenetic!" I remembered, "Yeah, she had control over machines and computers. Maybe that was why she was so good at video games. But I wish she had told me herself…she was probably afraid."

Peter spoke carefully, "So…you would have been fine dating a mutant?"

"Yeah, why not?" I said, "It's who someone is, not what they are that matters to me."

After a few more seconds of living in the past, I snapped out of it and looked over at Peter. He seemed to be lost in thought as well as his expression dropped and his eyes glazed over.

"Why do you ask?" I spoke up.

"Huh?" he snapped back to reality, "Oh, just wondering."

"You're awfully nosy today, Peter," I gave him a dubious look.

"I just wanna know more about you," he smirked, "What's wrong with that?"

"Come on, I've told you about my parents, my sexuality, my past love life," I ranted, "It's your turn! Let's go, Maximoff, story time!"

"My dad left when I was a kid, I'm straight, and like I said before: I've never dated," he went down the list, "See? We're even."

Giving a huff and crossing my arms, I pouted, "Whatever. Let's hurry up and finish this bike before your mom gets home."

After the job was done, it was almost dark. I drove the bike out someplace for dinner, taught him how to walk out on a check without using powers or getting caught, then showed him where we'd be keeping the bike. Since neither of us could keep it at our houses without our parent/guardian being suspicious, I picked out a spot in an abandoned gravel lot that was overrun with bushes and ivy. We hid the bike under a tarp and shoved it into the overgrowth. We parted ways after that and I walked home triumphant. I had finally fulfilled my childhood dream of stealing a motorcycle!

Peter walked home thinking about Serah. He tried to imagine what it would be like to date me; to be in Serah's place. Would I get flustered when Serah complimented me, or was I the one to make her blush? Did I ever take her out on heists like I did with him? What was it like to kiss me—And not just a joke kiss, either? He quickly shook the thoughts out of his head, though, realizing that he had been walking a normal pace home. Just thinking about it was making him slow down. Instead, he tried to focus on making his best poker face for his mom if she asked where he had been.

When I got home, Jordan was in the living room playing cards with a few of his friends. Since I was feeling a little peckish for dessert, I stopped by the kitchen where I found Thomas. He was helping himself to our carton of chocolate ice cream, spooning it right out of the container. I made a mental note to only to eat the vanilla. Upon seeing me, he stopped eating and gave me a wide-eyed look…like he knew something I didn't.

"What?" I grunted.

"Oh uh—hey Robin," he greeted me awkwardly, wiping some chocolate from his face.

I responded with a curt smile and a small wave.

"How was your day?" he asked.

What was he: my dad? Since when did he care about how my life was? All he cared was that I didn't eat his favorite foods from our fridge.

"…Fine?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Right—um," he set the ice cream on the counter, "Did you ever get your wallet back from that Maximoff guy?"

"Oh, yeah!" I remembered my old bluff, "I did, no problem."

Thomas just slowly nodded, obviously not buying anything I was saying. He was starting to make me nervous.

"Cuz, y'know, I saw you hanging out with him today," he said nonchalantly.

My eyes went wide and my shoulders slumped. I had always assumed that as long as I kept Peter a safe distance from the house, we wouldn't get discovered, but I forgot that we could still be seen around town.

"Are you dating him or something?" he asked.

"You cannot tell my brother—" I started to growl.

"Wait, you are?!"

"No!" I hissed, "We are not! We're just hanging out for the summer is all. Nothing major."

"Sooo that rental motorcycle you were driving was his?" he smirked.

He just had to see us before we painted the bike and added the false plate.

"God damnit," I fumed and slammed my fist on the counter, "Thomas, mind your own fucking business."

"Hey, I'm just saying, it looks like you're doing some major stuff to me," he chuckled.

"If you tell my brother…" I started to threaten him when he suddenly held up a hand.

"I'm not gonna," he said more seriously, "But I'm just trying to warn you that you gotta be more careful. Now, I don't entirely agree with Jordan's view on mutants, but if he finds out you're hanging out with one, you're gonna be stuck inside for the rest of the summer. So all I'm sayin' is that if I saw you today, who's to say he won't? I'm lookin' out for you here, Robin."

I crossed my arms, considering everything he said. He wasn't wrong and I was thankful he wasn't ratting me out. Now I was angry at myself for being so careless. If I wasn't careful like he said, I could end up ruining our summer for good, and I had already put Peter through enough trouble.

"But you should really just stop seeing him altogether," Thomas advised, "I mean a klepto's influence on another klepto can't be good."

"I'm not trying to be good," I sassed then stormed out of the kitchen.

AN: For anyone who follows the story and hasn't left a review, please do so~ I'd love to hear your thoughts/feedback!