Prank Wars (25 page)

Shaking my head, I grabbed some orange sticks and arranged them hurriedly on a plate. I had been trying to get rid of them for months now. They were horrid little things from my aunt for Christmas and just perfect for Byron. I handed Tory the plate of goodies. We looked like we were on Relief Society business, nothing more. “Kali,” I called. “Watch this backpack with your life. I want to do a little investigating before I turn this over to
you know who
.”

She nodded absentmindedly.

Day 110

1013 hours

“
It’s a dreadful day when you can’t trust the enemy to do what he’s supposed to do.”

—Madeleine’s War Journal Entry (Saturday morning, June 2nd).

Rock’s drums assaulted our ears. Tory and I stood uneasily on their porch, shifting our weight. Byron’s roommate was going crazy with them and it sounded like the noise was coming from the back room. There was no possible way anyone inside could hear me knocking. Balancing the orange sticks, I tried it anyway, along with the doorbell. The drums didn’t stop and I tried again and again and again, putting my finger over the peephole for good measure.

After no response, Tory took her hands out of the kangaroo pocket of her pink hoody and tried the door herself. The door opened easily, and I shook my head. When would Byron ever learn? Tory stuffed some tissue paper into the doorknob hole in the front door then stuck some duct tape over it. There was no way the guys could lock the door on us now, well, unless they used the chain. I was sure it would only work the first time around and then they’d be onto us after we broke in. I pushed open the door.

“Wait up.”

Tory and I both turned to see a lone figure walking up behind us. His gray hood was over his head. I squinted. He
looked like one of my soldiers in olive green cargo pants rolled up above the ankles. He must be a biker because he had the muscular legs of one. As soon as his lips quirked up, I knew who it was. “Eric?”
I tried to stay focused, but a little part of me melted. “What are you doing here?” I shouted over the noise. Even after all my warnings, he couldn’t possibly be looking into staying here, could he?

“I’m waiting for…” his words were lost in Rock’s killer drum sequence.

“I can’t hear you,” I said. “Rock is on one!”

“Rock?”

“The drummer.”

“Yeah, he’s my friend!” he shouted. That wasn’t what I asked, but it answered my question anyway. At least Eric was friends with the sanest roommate in the bunch. It wasn’t saying much. I stepped over the threshold, searching for any sign of Byron.
Eric caught up to me and laid his hand over my arm. I could smell the familiar scent of his Hollister cologne. “So what are
you
doing here?” A little smile played on his lips like he expected me to say something outrageous. He eyed my plate of orange sticks.

Byron rounded the corner of the hall and almost ran into us. “Whoa.” He stopped himself in time, looking shocked. Apparently I had caught him by surprise. Byron was still in his striped shirt from work, the top button was undone and the sleeves rolled up. It was untucked over his mesh basketball shorts. The guy had some hairy legs. Seeing my discomfiture, Byron looked roguishly into my eyes. “Well, how about that? I almost got a hug.”

I turned red, trying to ignore Eric’s knowing look. It looked like the orange sticks were for Byron and I tried to pretend that I didn’t care that my honor was at stake. “In your dreams,” I told Byron, mostly for Eric’s benefit.

Byron was unruffled. “No, it really almost happened.”

To my outrage, Tory agreed from the kitchen. “Yup.” She said it absentmindedly, which only meant she was pilfering the silver.

“Knock it off, Tory,” I called to her. “We’re under a white flag. Remember?”

Byron leaned against the wall, crossing his arms across his chest. He seemed to dismiss Tory, keeping an eye on Eric like he was the dangerous criminal instead. “Sit down. Our place is yours.”

“I’m sure some of it is.” I passed our
friendship plant
on the way to the couch. The leaves were turning green and no longer drooped in its normally sad way. The crab meat we put in as fertilizer was helping, though it certainly wasn’t helping the smell. I faced Byron and his eyes met mine. “I’m here under a flag of truce, Byron.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you too,” he drawled in a truly villainous way.

“Don’t be sarcastic. I know what you’re up to.” I watched him closely, but besides a slight flicker of his eyes, he gave nothing away. He was hiding it well, whatever it was. “You know why I’m here too,” I said.

“You made me food?”

“You know I don’t cook...ever.”

That stopped the conversation dead in its tracks. “S—say what?” Byron stuttered. Even Eric stopped smiling. You would think I had committed some unpardonable sin.

“I…I’m not a great cook.” And it was completely off the subject. “I’ve got something more important to discuss.”

“Ah yes, the orange sticks.” Byron spared them a glance.

Eric accepted the plate for him, I could only assume out of politeness. As he sat down with the nasty little things, Byron brushed past him, stealing the whole plate. He tore the first orange stick apart, followed by the rest in front of Eric’s stunned face. Soon they lay in a waste of chocolate and ripped dried fruit. Byron lifted the mess to his nose and smelled them in front of our shocked eyes—my pretend shocked eyes, Eric’s real ones. “Interesting,” Byron said in some amazement. “They’re clean. Too bad. I love those things.”

Was he crazy? I made a face. By now Eric was trying to hide his laughter. For once I wasn’t the one who looked stupid. “What? You don’t think she poisoned them, do you?” he asked.

I straightened. “I told you, Byron, we were visiting under a flag of truce.”

Byron seemed amused by the statement. “I seem to remember during the last flag of truce that Rock ate a whole batch of brownies made with Methylene blue and the twins got their fill of Oreos filled with tasty toothpaste filling. Something like that is hard to forget.”

Eric looked fascinated. His friend Rock was completely forgotten (a typical guy thing). The drums had stopped and the shower was on. I took a steadying breath. “Are you still missing your iPhone, Byron?”

“A few other things too.”

“Your physics book?” Again, he nodded, but slowly. “Well, how about you borrow mine…or maybe Thanh’s? Oh wait; you don’t know who Thanh is. Our TA. Remember? The one you’re dating? You are, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

By now, we had Eric’s undivided attention. This was better than a daytime drama. I tried to forget that. “Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe I’m just wondering how you called me…if
I
have your phone?”

I got him there, but he covered up his guilt well. “When did I call you?”

“About two minutes ago. Five!”

“I didn’t call you,” he told me flatly. “But if you want me to, we can pretend I did. Now, give me the items we discussed and we’ll call ourselves even.”

“Or what? I end up on the next Police Beat? What’s your game, Byron? I mean, it’s really cute that you and your girlfriend have matching backpacks and all, but you could’ve told me about that and avoided this whole mess!”

For once, Byron looked confused. “W—what?”

“You and Thanh’s coordinated backpacks. Poor Holly will be devastated.” He still looked blank. “I have Thanh’s backpack, not yours, Byron.”

“You do?”

“Unless you own a pink cell phone, well, you don’t! And
you
called me on her cell phone anyway, so…you already knew that I had it, so quit pretending!”

Byron was already on his way out the door. “Where is it?”

I blocked his way. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t quite trust him with Thanh’s backpack with this reaction. “It’s too late, Byron. I gave it back to her already.” Byron hesitated in the doorway, watching my face for more lies. “So,” I said, “if you want
your
backpack, I suggest you ask her about it on your next date.”

Eric pushed away from the couch, jerking out his phone and quite suddenly texting. His eyes were cold. “Kids, it’s been fun, but I’ve got to get to work.” My stomach lurched, knowing I was responsible for his sudden exit. It had finally happened. I had chased him away. My blood ran to my face when I realized I had sounded like Byron’s jealous girlfriend too.

Byron refused to move from the front door to give Eric an easy escape. Eric came up to his shoulder, and he met Byron’s eyes, so the two could do that dangerous measuring-each-other-up guy thing. Why were they doing that anyway? It made me nervous, and I pulled on Byron, catching a sinewy arm to drag him back. Eric’s gaze swept past me like he didn’t see me and he hurried down the stairs. For once, he wasn’t smiling. I pushed my hair out of my eyes, feeling sick. “Thanks a lot, Byron.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want me to bring him back?” Byron seemed only mildly annoyed, but I knew better. “Maybe you should try toning down the flirting a notch. You’re painfully obvious.”

He knew very well that I was incapable of flirting. Obviously. I had ruined whatever I might’ve had going on with Eric. I sighed. “It isn’t what you think.”

“Yes, it is, so you’d better be jealous, Byron.” Tory rambled from the kitchen; her pink hoody zipped up to her neck. It was apparent she was hiding something. I rolled my eyes. We were under a flag of truce. Could she take nothing seriously?

“Empty your pockets,” Byron told Tory in a resigned voice. She smiled innocently and took out a few utensils then tried to push past him. He stood resolutely in front of the door. He gave her a hard look. “All of it.” She laughed and unzipped her jacket, dumping the rest of the contents into Byron’s hand. They were only spoons. I couldn’t believe that she would risk the mission with those. Byron turned to me. “Your turn.”

I drew back, insulted. “I’m under a flag of truce. The only thing I have is information.”

He smirked and ripped the duct tape from the doorknob hole on his front door and handed it to me. “I believe this is yours, Captain.”

I took the piece of tape with all the dignity I could muster. The door slammed shut behind us. The mission had been compromised. I didn’t even think to ask him how to contact Thanh, so I could return her backpack. And did Eric seriously hate me now? Maybe it was for the best. My hands felt shaky. I had lost them all in one day. Well, maybe two days. Tory and I headed down the stairs towards the parked trucks. The stake had relocated the charity drive to the guys’ apartment complex. The guys had added a punching bag to the pile of overflowing clothes. As soon as we reached the first truck, I let out a quivering breath, unable to bottle up my sudden depression. “Tory!” I whined. “Where did I go wrong?”

“Are you kidding? That was awesome.” Tory gave me a mischievous grin and pulled out a huge book from behind her back. She had wedged it under her hoody. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed her suddenly flat square back. The girl was magic. She waved Byron’s PHYS 121 book in front of my face with both hands.

“Tory! You can’t steal…” I stopped myself from the lecture. “Wait, but
Thanh
has his book.”

“Nope, we have it.”

“He told me that he needed his backpack so that he could study physics? He acted like he didn’t know that he had Thanh’s backpack.”

“He lied.”

“Why?” Gripping the physics book in my hand, I turned around, ready to confront Byron with it just as Kali ran past me in her bare feet.

She laughed with high-pitched giggles. Tory and I involuntarily brought our hands to our ears. “Run! They’re going to catch us!” she shouted.

Lizzie met her on the other side of the apartment complex, out of breath. She leaned against the bunkhouse apartments, her white shirt blending in with the white brick. As soon as she caught sight of me, she stomped my way, looking indignant. “Tell the twins that they
cannot
give our stuff away to charity.”

Kali’s face was pink with exertion. Her blonde hair wisped around her head like a halo. She ran for one of the charity trucks and grasped the tailgate. Using it as her leverage, she kicked her way over the top and burrowed deep into the donated clothing. “Hide me!”

I obediently piled some clothes over her. Lizzie dove over the top, tackling the pile of clothes like a leaf pile. The two wriggled around the litter looking like playful little puppies, their legs and elbows popping up everywhere. I tried not to roll my eyes,
but I did
. What would the DI workers think when we donated two of our girls to them? I threw one last pillow over Kali’s blonde hair just in time. I saw Blake barreling our way. I hoped he wasn’t here to haul the trailer away. “Hey girls,” I whispered, “…maybe this isn’t such a good ide—”

“There you are,” Blake said. I swiveled to him. He looked mildly annoyed. “Would you mind telling your roommate that if she doesn’t give me back my watch, then I’ll be forced to do something she or I
might
regret.”

Now I knew what Lizzie was talking about. This prank war was completely out of control. “I’m not your messenger girl, okay, Blake? Grow up and ask Kali out like a real man.”