The full moon hung low over Moon Valley, casting eerie shadows across Farmer Johnson's cattle field. Jessica crouched behind a wooden fence post, her heart hammering against her ribs as she watched Tiffany and the others creep toward the sleeping cows with paint cans in hand. All of them wore gray sweaters with hoods over their heads to hide their faces.

  "This is the dumbest thing we've ever done," she whispered to Salina, who was pressed against the fence beside her.

  Salina snorted, her black hair gleaming silver in the moonlight. "Dumber than that time we tried to summon Bloody Mary in the girls' bathroom?"

  "At least that only risked our dignity. This could get us arrested."

  "Then why are you here?"

  Jessica didn't have a suitable answer for that. Because Tiffany had insisted? Because she was tired of being the squad's wet blanket? Because some pathetic part of her still desperately wanted to prove she belonged?

  "Keep it down, you two!" Tiffany's harsh whisper cut through the night. "These cows aren't going to paint themselves."

  Jessica watched as Tiffany, Mia, Camella, and Amber tiptoed between the dozing cattle, paint cans at the ready. The non-toxic paint had been Camella's idea–"We want revenge, not PETA on our backs," she'd said. Now the girls were putting their artistic skills to work, carefully painting "JOHNSON IS A LOSER!" across the sides of the sleeping animals.

  "This is what happens when you mess with the Mighty Wolves," Amber whispered gleefully as she added the farmer’s face with pig ears and a snort.

  Jessica shifted uncomfortably. Last week's game still stung–watching the Pinehill Squirrels demolish their team 42-7, then dancing and jeering at midfield like they owned the place. But this felt like crossing a line.

  "You know this won't actually help us make championships, right?" Jessica muttered.

  "No," Salina agreed, "but it might get the Squirrels suspended for a game if everyone thinks they did this. Which was kind of the point."

  "That's... actually kind of evil."

  "Welcome to high school politics, babe."

  A cow suddenly lifted its head, regarding Mia with sleepy confusion as she froze mid-brushstroke. Everyone held their breath until the animal lowered its head again with a contented snuffle.

  "Almost done!" Tiffany announced in a stage whisper. "Just two more cows and we can—"

  A blinding light suddenly swept across the field. Jessica's heart stopped as a gruff voice bellowed, "WHO'S OUT THERE?"

  "Oh shit," Amber squeaked. "It's Farmer Johnson!"

  The beam of the farmer's flashlight caught Tiffany in its glare, paintbrush still raised. "YOU KIDS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY COWS?"

  Chaos erupted. The startled cows lurched to their feet, bellowing in confusion. Paint cans went flying as the girls scattered. Jessica grabbed Salina's arm and yanked her toward Amber's van, parked behind the tree line.

  "Run!" Tiffany screamed, all pretense of stealth abandoned.

  They sprinted across the field, boots squelching in the mud as Farmer Johnson's angry shouts followed them. A cow, now sporting a half-finished "JOHNSON" across its flank, charged through the fence in panic. Others followed, creating a mini-stampede that only added to the mayhem.

  "My cows!" Farmer Johnson wailed. "Come back here, you hooligans!"

  Jessica's lungs burned as they reached the van. Amber fumbled with the keys, cursing under her breath as everyone piled in. The engine roared to life just as Farmer Johnson's truck headlights swept around the bend.

  "Go, go, go!" Camella shrieked from the backseat.

  Amber stomped on the gas, and the van fishtailed onto the dirt road. Jessica gripped the dashboard as they bounced and jolted, the van's suspension groaning in protest.

  "Oh my god, oh my god," Mia chanted from somewhere behind Jessica. "We are so dead. We are so, so dead."

  "Calm down," Tiffany said, but her voice shook. "We just need to get back to town without—"

  Red and blue lights suddenly flashed in the rearview mirror. A police siren wailed once, brief but unmistakable.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "You have got to be kidding me," Salina muttered.

  Amber's knuckles went white on the steering wheel. "What do I do?"

  "Pull over," Jessica said, her stomach sinking. "Unless you want to add a high-speed chase to our rap sheet."

  The van slowly rolled to a stop on the shoulder. In the sudden silence, Jessica could hear everyone's ragged breathing, smell the fear-sweat and paint fumes that filled the vehicle. She watched in the side mirror as a police officer approached, flashlight beam bouncing off the reflective strips of his uniform.

  "Well," Tiffany said with forced brightness, "at least we got most of the cows painted?"

  Six pairs of eyes turned to glare at her.

  The beam of the officer's flashlight swept across their faces as he reached the driver's window. Jessica's heart sank further as she recognized the stern face behind the light.

  "Evening, ladies," Sheriff Daniel Tumblelee said. "Anyone want to explain why Farmer Johnson just called about vandals painting his cows?"

  Jessica slumped in her seat, already imagining her dad's disappointment when he found out about this. So much for proving she belonged with the popular crowd. She had a feeling they were all about to become very unpopular with the school administration.

  Through the back window, she could see painted cows still wandering onto the road, their decorated flanks gleaming in the moonlight like abstract art installations gone wrong. One of them–the one with the unfinished "JOHNSON"–met her gaze and let out a mournful moo.

  Jessica buried her face in her hands and groaned. Somehow, she didn't think "school spirit" was going to cut it as an excuse this time.

  *****

  The fluorescent lights of Moon Valley Police Station buzzed overhead like angry wasps, casting harsh shadows across Sheriff Daniel Tumblelee's weathered face. Jessica slumped in her uncomfortable plastic chair, avoiding her father's disappointment-laden gaze as he paced behind his desk. The rest of the squad—Tiffany, Amber, Mia, and Camella—fidgeted beside her, while Salina lounged with practiced nonchalance in the corner.

  "What in blazes were you thinking?" Sheriff Daniel's voice carried the weight of both paternal and professional authority. "Breaking into Johnson's farm? Painting his cows? Have you all lost your minds?"

  "We didn't break in," Tiffany protested, her perfect cheerleader posture somehow intact even under pressure. "The gate was open."

  Sheriff Daniel narrowed his eyes. "An open gate doesn't constitute an invitation, Miss Barns."

  "We were just trying to boost school spirit," Amber chimed in, her usually bubbly voice small and uncertain. “The rivalry team were totally unfair and-”

  "And you thought vandalizing livestock was the answer?" Daniel's hands landed on his desk with a sharp crack. "Do you have any idea how many laws you broke tonight?"

  Jessica winced. She'd seen her father angry before, but this was different. This was Sheriff Daniel Tumblelee, upholder of the law, defender of Moon Valley's peace and property rights. The fact he caught his own daughter in such a harebrained scheme only made it worse.

  "It was washable paint," Mia offered weakly.

  "Oh, well, that makes it all better then," Daniel's voice dripped sarcasm. "I'm sure Mr. Johnson will be thrilled to hear his prize-winning Holsteins were only temporarily turned green."

  Salina snorted from her corner, earning a collective glare from the cheerleaders. Jessica shot her friend a warning look. The last thing they needed was Salina's particular brand of sardonic commentary making things worse.

  "This isn't funny, Miss Carpenter," Daniel said, fixing Salina with his patented sheriff's stare. "You may think you're above all this with your... alternative perspective, but you were there the same as the rest."

  "Actually, I was just documenting the artistic process," Salina drawled, holding up her phone. "For posterity."

  Jessica fought the urge to groan. Trust Salina to make everything worse by being... well, Salina.

  "Hand it over," Daniel commanded, palm outstretched. "That's evidence now."

  Salina's smirk faltered as she surrendered her phone. "My grandmother's going to go full demon-queen-of-hell when she hears about this, isn't she?"

  "That's the least of your worries." Daniel deposited the phone in his desk drawer. "I'm calling all of your parents. Let them decide how to handle this on the home front."

  A collective moan rose from the assembled teens. Jessica slumped further in her chair, wondering if it was possible to die of embarrassment. She'd faced supernatural horrors in her other life, but somehow this felt worse.

  The station door swung open with a creak, and Principal Matthews strode in, his khakis perfectly pressed despite the late hour. Jessica's heart sank further. If Sheriff Daniel was bad, Principal Harris was worse—he had the power to impact their standing on the squad.

  "I've just gotten off the phone with Mr. Johnson," Matthews announced, his thin lips pressed into an even thinner line. "After much discussion, he's agreed not to press charges."

  A wave of relief swept through the room, but Matthews held up a finger. "However, there will be consequences."

  "We'll do anything," Tiffany pleaded, practically vibrating with anxiety. "Extra practice, cleaning the locker rooms, whatever you want."

  "What you'll do," Matthews said, "is spend Friday night in detention."

  "Friday?" Tiffany's voice hit a pitch that made Jessica's sensitive ears ring. "But we have practice!”

  "Perhaps you should have considered that before embarking on your artistic adventure." Matthews's tone could have frozen lava. "Some things, Miss Barns, are more important than cheerleading. Discipline, for instance."

  Jessica turned to glare at Tiffany, heat rising in her cheeks. This was all her fault—her brilliant idea to "show those Pinehill Squirrels who's boss" by decorating the cows to frame them.

  Now instead of a normal Friday night, they'd be stuck in school until midnight, probably writing lines about respecting agricultural property.

  "If there are no other questions," Matthews continued, "you're all dismissed. I expect to see you in Room 204 at four PM sharp on Friday. And ladies?" His gaze swept over them like a searchlight. "Don't even think about trying to skip. Sheriff Tumblerlee has kindly agreed to do periodic checks throughout the evening."

  Great. Just great. Jessica pushed herself up from the chair, her muscles protesting after an hour of tense sitting. Another night of detention, another chance for her carefully constructed normal life to potentially unravel. At least Kevin wouldn't be there to—

  "Oh, and Miss Tumblerlee?" Matthews called as she reached the door. "Mr. Lebowski will be joining you."

  Jessica froze, one hand on the doorknob. "Kevin? Why?"

  "Mr. Peterson caught him helping Bill cheat on his science test." Matthews’s eyebrows arched meaningfully. "Perhaps you can all share tips on making better life choices."

  Perfect. Just perfect. Jessica yanked the door open, ignoring Tiffany's attempts to strategize about getting their practice schedule back on track. The cool night air hit her face as she burst out of the station, carrying with it the familiar scents of Moon Valley—pine trees, distant cattle, and underneath it all, something else. Something wild called to the other part of her, the part she tried so hard to keep hidden.

  "Jessica, wait up!" Camella's voice carried across the parking lot. "We need to figure out what we're going to do about—"

  "Not now," Jessica cut her off, picking up her pace. "I need to get home before my dad decides to ground me until graduation."

  She heard Tiffany protest behind her, something about team unity and facing the consequences together, but Jessica didn't slow down. She had enough problems without adding more cheerleader drama to the mix. Between her father's disappointment, another detention, and now Kevin's unexpected presence on Friday night, her carefully compartmentalized worlds were threatening to collide.

  As she walked home through the quiet streets of Moon Valley, Jessica couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. Something was coming—something bigger than rival football teams and painted cows and Friday night detention. She just hoped she'd be ready when it did.

  The porch light was still on when she reached home, casting a lonely pool of yellow on the front steps. Jessica paused at the edge of the darkness, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Then she squared her shoulders and walked into the light, ready to face whatever punishment awaited her inside.

  After all, she'd survived worse things than being grounded. Much worse things. Even if her father and Principal Matthews never knew it.