Prank Wars (11 page)

I scrambled to my feet. That was it. I didn’t care if anyone saw me now. I made a dash for the door and froze when I heard it. A long scratch. It trailed from the top of the closet to the bottom, slowly, like a long fingernail dragging painfully on the other side of the door, sounding worse than against a chalkboard. My heart beat rapidly, but instead of running like I told myself, I wrapped my hand over the handle of the closet door. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew I
really really
shouldn’t, especially when I ripped the door open and saw two eyes staring back at me.

I screamed.

Tory screamed.

I screamed and hit her.

She doubled over laughing.

“How could you!” I shouted, but I was too busy laughing at myself. For some reason, Tory felt it was her duty to keep me on my toes with scary exercises like these. “Oh.” I took a shaky breath. “Save it for the enemy, Tory! What were you thinking?”

Tory couldn’t answer. She held her stomach, her red hair escaping from her black hoody. No wonder I had a streak of white hair. It was shell shock from all the time spent with these crazies. One thing was for certain: Tory kept my reflexes catlike in times of war. I just wasn’t sure how I’d survive it.

Day106

1856 hours

“
I was a true revolutionary. I couldn’t live in a place where wrong overcame right and darkness defeated the light. Nothing felt as it should be. And yet, the winds of change hung on the precipice of my life. I could feel it.”

—Madeleine’s War Journal Entry (Tuesday, May 29th).

Cameron cuddled with his latest fling on the couch near the entryway. Another beautiful blonde with orange skin and indeterminate color of eyes. He gave her a quick squeeze before letting her go. His thick leather wristband slid across her cheek. “Thank you,” he told her in a low whisper, “for letting me use you.”

She giggled. I frowned. I was caught between the doorway and the hallway on my way to ward prayer. Not only had the bishop changed the meeting to Tuesday nights, but he had also decided to hold it at the Dog House, and it truly was. This was where my ex resided. Normally, I would never trespass these unhallowed halls, except for one sweet thing, revenge.

The winter cold was having a hard time letting us go this spring. Rain mixed with sleet misted the night air outside. I checked the time on my cell phone. Ward prayer started in less than five minutes. Maybe if I gave Cameron and this girl until then, they’d clear out...but why did he do this at the door before ward prayer started? If I didn’t know better, I’d think Cameron wanted me to witness his latest conquest.

“Hey cuz, what are you looking at?” Too late, Byron peered over my shoulder, slapping his wet hair back.

I shrugged him away before he could see my ultimate shame of an ex-fiancé. “Nothing.”

By now, the usual flock of adoring fans surrounded Cameron. It would make it easier for me to slip by unnoticed. Melanie, a girl with shifty eyes and whose name no one really had to remember, sat next to him on the thick brown couch and mischievously tied the shoelaces of his leather shoes together. He was loving it.

My gut wrenched, and I swiveled away. Byron caught me with firm hands. He was still wet from the rainstorm outside. “Are you crazy? You don’t want to miss this. Melanie just messed up Cam’s hair. Don’t worry though. He got her back,” he narrated the scene. “Oh, sick. Now they’re…” I hit Byron back. It wasn’t one of those flirty hits either. He let out a surprised grunt and let me go. “Wow Mad, how did that guy ever have the guts to break up with you?”

My hands flew to my hips. Who had Byron been talking to? “What makes you think
he
broke up with
me
?”

“Because you’re mad at him.” Byron pressed his palm into the entryway, surveying the room with a bored look. Leftover rainwater dripped down his face. Despite the soaking, he looked like he could fit into a more romantic era, instead of ward prayer.

I tried to look just as casual as he did. “Well, it’s all part of my strategy really. Get the guy to break up with you and you never have to worry about him again. If you break up with
him
, he’s always calling and whining, and—” I flinched. Cameron was now wrestling with half the girls on the couch. “Anyway, I’m just happy he’s leaving me alone.”

“No, you aren’t.” Byron checked the time on his silver Fossil watch...like...like he didn’t just say that.

My mouth fell open. This was the worst torture imaginable. I was forced to watch my ex flirt it up with every girl in the ward, and now my worst enemy was rubbing it in my face. “Byron,” I finally found my voice, but it was too shaky. “Do you even have a heart? I mean, do you know how it feels to…to…” For once I couldn’t make a good argument for myself. I was so flustered. “I’m not stupid, okay? I
was
stupid…before. But…I’m strong now. No one can hurt me anymore—” I wasn’t making any sense. To top it off, I heard the catch in my voice. Why was I getting deep with Byron anyway? His eyes didn’t leave mine, almost like he was taking me seriously.

“So, how did you get him back?” he asked. “A girl like you would take her proper revenge?”

“No.” It hurt to admit. “I cared about him, okay?” I couldn’t get anything else out. We were going to get married on June 6th, less than two weeks from now. Even if I gave into my anger and hurt, any further moves against him would mark me the bitter, desperate ex who couldn’t move on with her life—though it was very clear that Cameron had moved on with a vengeance. Then he would win. If nothing else, I had my pride. Barely.

Byron studied my face for a moment then his strong fingers slid through mine; it helped that they were still wet from the storm outside. “Just go with it,” he said. Before I could object, he tugged me through the crowd of surprised girls. “
Madeleine!
” he called in a loud voice. “Hey beautiful, I was looking everywhere for you.” I saw Cameron’s head turn at that surprising declaration, but that was all I could see because Byron leaned over my ear, “Let’s remind the man what he lost, shall we?” Was it my imagination or was there a slight accent to his words? It sounded slightly British? Maybe?

“Byron,” I hissed in a warning. “
He doesn’t care
that he lost me.” I tried to push him away and he stole that hand too. Now Byron was getting me all wet. It was all I could do not to give away our crazy cover until I saw Cameron’s face. It was full of unexplained anger. Was he actually jealous?

AmyLee stood by the door in her oversized short-jacket. Her eyes widened at us and I saw the scene through her eyes. Here I was holding hands with the biggest flirt in my acquaintance, and I just hoped I hadn’t given away that I liked it because then my whole cause against men would unravel. Tory stepped into the doghouse, dressed all in black. Her lips formed an O. Of course, my shame wouldn’t be complete without Lizzie seeing too. She followed her and covered her smile with a hand. Kali was otherwise occupied. Honestly, I wasn’t vain enough to think I was the complete center of attention in our singles’ world.

Byron lifted my hand to his lips and brushed my knuckles with a light kiss. It meant absolutely nothing to him—I recognized that devilish look—but no one else would see it like that, particularly President Wilkes. He sat next to the announcement girl, his gaze fixed on us with a slight smile. I couldn’t take the false hope in his eyes. Of all our leaders, he cared the most about reclaiming me from my not-so-bright future.

Byron took one look at him and released me faster than he had grabbed me. I stepped back, feeling a little damp—and a little dumped. The night was not going the way I had planned. “Byron!” I gave him a dangerous smile, but with certain eyes on me, that was all I could do. He didn’t seem sorry at all. I grabbed his wet shirt and pulled him closer, which I’m sure, only added to our illusion of intimacy. “What’s your problem? Are you crazy? Is that it?”

Byron’s eyes danced. “Why can’t your ex stop looking at you? Do you want me to talk to him?” My gaze followed his to where Cameron sat. For a moment, the girls around him were forgotten. As soon as he saw my eyes, however, he turned back to his women, only he didn’t look as into it. Byron shrugged. “Maybe he admires your shirt. What does MAD stand for anyway?”

“Me against dummies.”

“Really? I thought it was the nickname I gave you.” Byron’s leather flip flops collided as he sat down on the light blue carpet. He tugged on the strings dangling from my black knickers. “Sit down,” he called loudly. The announcements were starting and I was the only one standing up in a sea of heads.

I flopped down next to Byron just in time to hear AmyLee’s lecture. “Okay, listen up!” AmyLee already looked annoyed. She shook the tattered sign-up sheet at us. “Some of you think that boyfriend-for-the-week is just the presidency forcing us to get married or something. But let’s be honest. It’s just their desperate attempt to get you out of your apartments. Guys, video games are stupid, okay? And girls, Edward and Jacob are
not
real men.” Murmuring broke out. “Move your lazy…”

President Wilkes put a loving hand on her back. “Thank-you, AmyLee. I’ll take it from here. First of all, brothers and sisters, we’d like to stress how proud we are of
all
of you. Sister Wilkes and I are delighted with your accomplishments. At the same time, we feel inspired to encourage you to fit this program into your schedules. It’s a great opportunity to get to know other singles in your stake.”

I bit my lip, trying to ignore the stirrings of conscience as he talked about what the program would mean to us, as if we were supposed to be doing something more with our lives...like maybe date. Byron didn’t seem to care. “What do you say about my conditions?” he whispered,
sotto voce.
“The letter for the cushions?”

“First things first,” I told him. “Did
you
steal our cushions?”

“What makes you think I’d go to the effort?”

I bit down a smile at the familiar. “Okay, then second, do you still disavow all knowledge of that letter?”

“It isn’t relevant. Do you want us to give you back the cushions or not?”

“No, we’re good.” I smiled inanely at him.
We would get them back ourselves.
Byron’s eyes narrowed at me. Any outsider would think we were lost in each other’s eyes, but I recognized that warlike glint in Byron’s. He wasn’t happy with my answer. For some reason he wanted that letter, but for now it was in Kali’s protective custody.

“Next week,
Battle of the Bands
will be playing at the school.” I heard a girl announce in the front. “Our very own Bunk House boys will be competing in it. Byron! Byron!” The unknown girl tried to get his attention. “The name of your band! Tell us the name?”

“
26Down
,” a deep masculine voice answered behind us. One of Byron’s roommates. I think it was the drummer, yet another man we had to distract from our mission tonight.

“
26Down
?” I asked Byron, hoping to divert him. “Is that your band’s minimum age requirement?”

“Guess that means you can join—about five years ago, right?”

No way would I give anything away today, especially my age. We automatically closed our eyes as someone gave a blessing on the refreshments. No amount of blessing would keep Byron safe from me...or make the chocolate fudge cake good for us. I stood up after the chorus of
amens
, seeing Sandra break through the crowd. There was nothing like surrounding myself with former exes to keep Byron properly occupied. “Sandra,” I called to her. “Byron wants to tell you something!”

“Really?” There was a slight smile on Byron’s lips. “Are you sure you want to do that?” He motioned with his hands. Enter the twins. I found my path effectively blocked by two short Brad Pitts. They stepped on either side of Byron, crossing their arms and breaking into identical smiles—very mischievous ones at that. One had a deeper dimple than the other, but without that give-away; no one could have told them apart. Strangely enough, the twins never seemed to care.

“What’s this?” I asked Byron. “Your back-up?”

“My bodyguards.” They were almost half his size. What were they going to do?

Sandra sauntered closer. She was fuming. “Byron.” Her finger wagged at him at an impossible speed.

“Sandra.” One of the twins, the overly-confident one, Adam, I think it was, sauntered over in pristine white Vans to talk to her. It was fascinating to watch…in a sick way. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh yeah! What?” she spouted. I wasn’t sure how he managed it, but the twin completely changed her course, heading her towards the dessert table. She didn’t even eat desserts!

“He’s my wing man,” Byron explained.

“Wha—? What’s a wing man?”

“In social situations, the wing man is the designated guy sent to flirt away the undesirable girl, so that his friend can flirt with the girl of his choice, or in this case, let us finish our negotiations.”

“Lame.”

“It’s a sacrifice all men will make for their mates.”

Mates? He made the word sound so Australian. Why did I never notice this accent before? Never mind that the wing man concept would make me rethink all the social experiences of my life, but at least I had a few wing men of my own to throw at him. I gestured Lizzie forward and she swept in. “Hey Byron. How’s it going?”