They hear sirens

Wee-ooh! Wee-ooh! Wee-ooh!

Izzy and Peter both looked up at once, past the house to where the sound of a police car was clear. Immediately the blaring dance music from inside died down.

“Ah, shit…”, Peter swore.

“What?”

He patted a faint bulge in his pocket. The crinkling of a plastic baggie could be heard. “Haven’t just been drinking…”

“Oh… And I’m only eighteen”, Izzy realized.

The sirens turned off. Over the now silent house, they heard the sound of car doors opening then slamming shut.

Peter gestured at the back fence. “Want a hand over?”

Growing pale, Izzy quickly said, “Y-yes please!”

Peter re-did his belt, then put his hands together for Izzy to get a foot in. She mounted with her left. Turning her head back briefly, she could see similar activity across the backyard; some fence-hoppers, some evidence-stowing, and…

And Gwen, frozen on the back porch, eyes wide and terrified.