Trying isn't cool.

April had planned to spend her twentieth birthday at home doing something entertaining, like watching MTV España and drinking smoothies with beer in them. Her boyfriends thought that was ridiculous, and had emailed her links to the websites of Baltimore theme bars, such as a jello-wrestling one and one with a mechanical bull, which April had been prepared to ignore -- those only sounded entertaining from a watching-people-injure-themselves perspective. But then something game-changing came to her attention. Sarah, apparently, could control machines.

Which meant that attending the bar with the mechanical bull was a definite yes. They could not only watch, but also actively contribute to the injuries. It was a dream come true.

Getting in wasn't a problem -- the fact that it was her birthday and she looked confident about getting in clearly tricked the bouncer into thinking that she was turning twenty-one today, not twenty. As soon as she and Sarah stepped inside, April winced at the sound of deafeningly loud country music and the attire of the other patrons. She shot Sarah a look. "Holy fucking cowboy hats."

[[for the partner in crime, who will be supplying much of the crime! up early for timezones. and drunk texts might be a thing, just saying.]]