Prank Wars (28 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Fowers

BOOK: Prank Wars
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There was a collective catcall and I was momentarily distracted from Thanh. Someone had padded the box with Cameron’s name. My first guess was Tory. Cameron froze on his way back to his girlfriends. The MC laughed. “Hey, you got caught, buddy.” He drew out another name. “Cameron again!” Everyone laughed. A few murmured angrily. Yup. Tory. “Okay, we’re gonna have to pull out all of Cameron’s names from the box before we pick another winner,” the MC said. “Meanwhile, how about we have a little
Battle of the Sexes
?”

Everyone cheered and jumped up around me, blocking my sight from the exits. There was no way to tell which way Thanh had gone. She was just too short. I needed higher ground.

“Now is your chance. C’mon, guys, girls. It’s open mike night. Anything goes. He’s hitting on your best friend, let him have it. She’s spending all your money? Well, you won’t take it.” Even though the MC couldn’t possibly see me, I gave him an annoyed look. Why did some guys think women were just after their money? All the money in the world wasn’t worth dating a guy we didn’t like.

The crowd went wild, especially when the MC handed off the microphone to a guy waiting in the wings. He had a cocky grin and a knit skull cap. He had the makings of a jerk. “Hey, peeps!” he shouted down at us. “You girls whine and complain about not getting married, but let’s talk about why it hasn’t happened for you sweet little things, shall we?” He had better not go there. “How about the number one thing that will get you dumped. You wanna hear it!” Even the girls were screaming to hear it. Traitors. Somehow they thought they were exempt from these insults. “You are way too desperate, women. Why do you say things like
when will I see you again?
Where are things going? We’ve got to talk.
You girls are way too focused on commitment. Chill out. Get it through your thick skulls; we’re just dating, babe. And don’t even get me started on return sister missionaries…”

Some of the guys shouted out in appreciation around me. My glare was completely wasted on them. Their attention was on the weasel above us. A few guys gave their girlfriends weak smiles. “Get this,” the guy complained above us. “We’re paying for the dates. We’re paying for the ring. We give you our name and our money and for what? After all the bleach and fake bakes, your looks are gonna fade like a nasty tattoo.”

To be fair, I noticed a few guys’ mouths hang open at that. “Whoa!” a guy shouted up at him. “Your girlfriend’s gonna kill you, dude!”

Laughter spread through the room. The punk on the stage brought the mike to his lips. “You’re thinking it. I’m just saying it. In a few years, they’ll be just like their moms. Why do you think we run away screaming like little girls when we meet the future in-laws? It’s not that we’re afraid to commit, we’re just afraid to commit to
that
. So, do yourself a favor, girl, and keep the family hidden.”

No, he didn’t!
I turned viciously on him. “Your mom!” I shouted back through the crowd. At the moment, the stage was the highest place I could think of to locate Thanh. I stalked up the steps, taking two at a time.

“Oh,” the MC called. “Looks like we’ve got a contender.”

I wrestled the microphone away from the MC before he could say anything else stupid and pointed viciously at the guy with the skull cap. “Congratulations. In less than one minute, you made sure that no girl in this room will
ever
date you.”

The girls cheered. The jerk smirked back at me. I wouldn’t leave until he cried. “So, Mr. God’s gift to women, what makes you think you’ve got anything to offer the ladies, huh, besides that amazing skull cap you’ve got to hold your big head in? So far, you’ve mentioned your bags of seemingly endless gold? Even if you have money, which I seriously doubt, it would never make up for being stuck with you. So, what else do you have to offer the girls besides your dark and hollow soul?” I lifted my brow at the guy.

“Why don’t you ask the girls who won’t leave me alone?” he answered smoothly.

“That’s called Stockholm Syndrome. They need their heads examined so that they’ll know they don’t need you. Anything you do, we can do
much much
better. Face it, little boy. Girls can make their own money. We can make our own fun. We can do more with our life than get tied up with some nut job like you. The only thing that can entice us is love. Oh, so maybe that’s why you’re so mad? You’re not that loveable, are you?” I made a little moue with my lips. “Did some girl dump you on your head like you deserved?”

The guy didn’t seem at all upset. Of course not, he still had poor misled girls wrapped around all his fingers. And besides that—I was so gullible—this guy had to be a set-up to get the crowd riled up. Not even Cameron was as bad as this. From the corner of my eye, I saw Thanh disappear into the exit at the far side of the ballroom. I might never find out if her backpack had been returned to her. I stuck the microphone back in its stand. The girls shouted for me to continue, but I couldn’t. “Do yourself a favor, girls,” I said as a parting shot. The guy with the skull cap would never be moved, but at least I could help them out. “Don’t go for a guy like this. Go for a nerd. I’ve heard tale that he’ll love you, never take you for granted, and treat you really well.”

“Are you sure about that?” I swiveled at that familiar voice. It was Byron. Another jerk had taken skull cap’s place. Byron still wore his bass strapped over his shoulder and looked calm like he was ready to do battle. “Or will he just play video games all day and ignore you?”

“Even better,” I retorted. “Then he won’t be around. Sounds like the perfect man to me.” I was losing Thanh. I backed away.

“At least go for the jerk,” Byron said. “Then you’ll know what you’re getting into. That’s what
we all are
to you in the end, right? Jerks?” I rolled my eyes, turning away. “This world will never make you happy, will it, Mad Dog?”

That stopped me short. “Not while you’re in it, Byron,” I retorted. The crowd made a mock noise of shock. The microphone was somehow back in my hand. “In case you haven’t realized, players are a dime a dozen these days. I’m tired of players. I’m ready for a change.”

The girls cheered.

“And what exactly is a player?” Byron asked, stopping my grand exit yet again. Was he kidding? He might as well ask a missionary what our church was about. He knew he’d get a soliloquy from me with that.

“Ooooh!” That was Cameron making catcalls in the front.
Great.
Now my honor was at stake.

The microphone tightened in my hand. Byron asked for it. “Definition one: a guy who doesn’t think that the girl he’s dating is human. He lies, uses, and throws the baggage away. Sound familiar?”

“Girls do that too.”

“I have never treated anyone the way guys have treated me.”

“Neither have I.” He said it with that stupid accent that I was starting to like. “Here’s my piece of advice for you, Mad. Get over it. And one other thing; if you think I’m such a jerk then leave me alone.”

I stared at him. What? The girls watched breathlessly below us like this was their favorite soap opera. The guys grinned uneasily. I tried to register what Byron was saying with all those eyes on me. Did I even think he was a jerk anymore? Right now I kind of did, but lately? I wasn’t sure. Could I like a guy without him turning on me in the end? Tons of songs on the radio talked about love—a whole enterprise dedicated to it and I never really felt what they were talking about. And if I had, it never turned out to be real. Did that mean something was wrong with me? Or was this love thing just a trick and there was something wrong with all of us? “You’re right,” I told Byron. “I should never open my heart. Happy?”

I tried to retreat, but he wouldn’t let me. “Who says? You?” I stiffened. With all those eyes on me, I wasn’t about to admit that my only experience with love was to be used and thrown away. “What happened to love suffereth long, is kind, is not puffed up, Madeleine? If you can’t open your heart...you’re broken.”

He just called me broken. I could add that to his long list of insults against me. And in front of the majority of the school? I took a deep breath. “You are wrong. I am so happy.” To my horror, my voice broke. It was a terrible way to prove my point.

“You don’t sound like it.”

My eyes narrowed. Byron was crazy…and I would prove it, gladly, except…my eyes went to the exit where Thanh had disappeared.

“Relationships are messy.” I heard Byron say. “None of us are going to get it right.”

“No, we’re not,” I agreed, sliding the microphone back into its holder. “Especially you…and me. You want me to leave you alone? I’ll leave you alone,”—
with a vengeance.
I took the stage steps two at a time away from Byron, so he could see for himself how serious I was—I never wanted to see him again! I plunged headlong into the crowd. They made an amused path for me. I felt a few pats on my back and shoulders. Some guys just grinned at me, but no one got in my way. I felt my face flush beat red. I had lost...badly. I wasn’t sure where my usual focus in the heat of battle had gone. The next band came on stage and the MC introduced them with a relieved voice.

I took a deep breath, not believing that I had just told Byron off. It felt good and very wrong at the same time, and I tried to push it back to the part of me that couldn’t hurt. Tears glistened in my eyes when I remembered Byron’s face when I had called him a player. He did not look happy. What had possessed him to come to the aid of men everywhere anyway? I was tired of being on opposing sides. I didn’t want to fight him anymore.

I broke out of the ballroom, my footsteps echoing across the empty hall. My conscience wouldn’t leave me alone—it lectured me like it was Lizzie, and I tried to wrestle it down, so I could focus on Thanh. It was useless. I couldn’t bring myself to care if she got her stuff back or what she might mean to Byron. What did I think I could do for her anyway? I couldn’t control everything, or how Byron felt about her...or me—well, I
could
make him hate me. I could call him a jerk in front of the entire school. I groaned. Was it too late to apologize? Sort of. There was no way I wanted to face those people in the ballroom again. Or Byron. I leaned against the wall to the atrium, finding the darkest corner with the bushiest leaves I could find, Byron’s words stinging me all over. Obsessed. Unhappy. Broken. I didn’t want him to be right, but was he?

I took a deep breath, listening to the music from the ballroom. It sounded distant. Behind the sound, I caught the faint snatches of whispers that formed into words. I wasn’t alone in the atrium. I listened to the hushed voices.
“…not here.”
I glanced around the corner into the atrium and stiffened when I saw one of the voices belonged to Thanh. I half-expected to find a glass slipper in her place, not the actual girl. Her small frame blended into the shadows.

“Where are they? Do you have them?”
s
omeone asked her. The lights were dim, and I couldn’t get an ID on whoever talked to her. Whoever it was had a stiff set to her shoulders and long hair. I couldn’t make out the exact color in the darkness. Thanh’s eyes swept carefully around, and I pulled back into the shadows. The last thing I wanted to be caught doing was eavesdropping. “You can give them to me now,” the silhouette whispered harshly to Thanh. “I’ll make sure they get into the right hands.”

Thanh shook her head. “I don’t know who to trust.” This was a weird conversation. The rest of their words were lost in a murmur. I tried to get closer without being seen. A branch smacked me in the face.

“You’ll be hurt. Come back. We’ll take care of you.”

“I need to talk to him.” Thanh said in a louder voice.

“Did you make contact with him? Does he have
them
?”

“I tried to…Tuesday night, but there were some students, and then—please, where is he?”

The girl talking to Thanh shifted. I still couldn’t see her face. She seemed a part of the shadows. “Stay here. We’ll protect you...he’s coming.”

“Who?” There was real fear in Thanh’s voice.

Too late I heard the footsteps come up behind me, and I reacted to that fear. My heart closing in on my chest. I had nowhere to hide…except the coat closet across the way. Being June, there weren’t that many coats in there. A few slickers. I scurried across the hallway and ducked inside just as I saw the legs stalk past. The owner of them hesitated when he passed the closet and turned...to look straight at me. My stomach sank. Of course it was Eric. He had found me in another compromising position. The way things were going, he’d find me in an asylum next. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Thanh’s whisper died and I heard a scuttle of feet like mice running away with cheese from a trap. I managed to give Eric a weak shrug. He leaned against the closet, watching me with heavy-lidded eyes. He extended his hand, and I stared at it. “You hiding from your roommate again?” he asked. Compassion laced his voice. “I thought I saw you coming this way.”

It was a pretty good excuse and I nodded. “Tory’s been really, um…” I crawled out of the closet, dusting off my black dress while I was at it, “I’m trying to figure out, um…” I really had no idea what I had overheard to be honest and I couldn’t concentrate on what I was saying.

“I know. I saw.” Eric pointed the general direction of the ballroom. He had witnessed my little
Battle of the Sexes
for himself. “Are you okay?”

I heard more footsteps, and knew they belonged to the one Thanh had been frightened would come. I scuttled back into the closet, but not before I grabbed Eric’s arm and dragged him down with me. He was stronger than I thought, but he grinned and let me muscle him in. “What are you doing?” his voice was muffled in the closet. He readjusted himself and pushed closer to me. I got a good view of his hazel eyes; they watched me with more emotion than I could read. The band playing in the ballroom had shifted into a slower song—if we weren’t stuck in a closet, I’d get lost in it. “Well, it’s not every day I’m alone with the hottest girl I’ve ever seen,” Eric said softly. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. “Your name tag,” he reminded me.

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