Getting Caught by Mandy Hubbard Page A

thumbs-up toward Bryn, who I’m sure is smiling back at me through the closet door. I can’t help but feel this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership.
     

Chapter Twelve
    Jess
     
    I’m trying to scoop a fake bloody index finger out of the goldfish tank when Gavin rushes in, screaming. He has a red-stained tissue covering his hand. “Hospital,” he gasps.
    I chuck the finger at him and go back to sweeping the floor as it skids, slimy and wet, across the linoleum. “I got it out before the fish could eat it.”
    “Oh, you found it!” he sighs, relieved. “I’ve been looking—”
    “Gav, give it up,” I mutter, not even bothering to take my eyes off the floor I’m cleaning.
    He grimaces. “You do not have a pulse.”
    “You do not have an imagination,” I shoot back.
    “Oh, so a fake Harvard interview makes you Prank Goddess?”
    “I must be. After the lame retaliation I got from Peyton a couple weeks ago, it’s clear who the winner is.”
    “Oh, yeah?”
    “Yeah. She put a message on the scoreboard in the gym about how I have B.O.”
    He looks down at his wounded hand then stretches out all five of his perfectly fine fingers, tosses the tissue in the garbage, and runs his hand under the faucet. “Damn. That makes a bloody stump joke look like pure genius.”
    I nod and run a hand through my hair, which I dyed the color of red wine yesterday. It was a little more traditional, but then I bleached some strands in the front platinum. “It’s a definite step back. She was supposed to outdo me. But maybe she couldn’t think of anything better. She may be book-smart, but when it comes to creativity she’s totally limited. I’d declare myself the winner now, but we still have almost three months left of school. Without our war, life would be incredibly boring.”
    He leans against the counter behind the register and crosses his arms in front of him. “So, what’s your plan for the next prank?”
    A devious grin spreads over my face. “ I’m not stepping back. That’s for sure.”
    “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Do tell.”
    “Well, Willow High’s production of Grease is next weekend, and guess who’s playing Patty Simcox?”
    He seems excited. “Peyton Brentwood?”
    I shake my head. “No, unfortunately.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “The part of Patty Simcox will be played by ‘Pays For Bent Wood’,” I say proudly, enunciating every word.
    “You little minx,” he says breathily, raising his eyebrows, urging me to go on.
    I do a little twirl in my destroyed denim mini and purple tights, then bat my eyelashes at him like a supermodel. “That’s me. Remember last week when you sent me to the Kinko’s across the mall to pick up your business cards?”
    He nods.
    “So, one of the drama geeks was in there, dropping off the program. It was pure serendipity. I couldn’t not take advantage.”
    “So, you…”
    “I just waited until the drama geek left, then told the girl at the counter I needed to make some changes. She gets paid minimum wage and couldn’t give a rat’s ass. Voila.”
    There was a chance that I could get caught, but it was small, and despite the obvious risks there was no way I was missing out on this kind of opportunity. Public humiliation is high on my list of priorities. Her humiliation. I mean, hello , this is a prank war. Like I can pass this up.
    “Brilliant,” Gavin says, nodding. “However, not as good as Harvard, I’m afraid.”
    I rub my palms together. “Do you think I’m stopping there?”
    “You’re not?”
    “Of course not. What do you take me for? If she’s going to be up on stage, I can’t waste that opportunity. You see, I’m going to—”
    I’m silenced by the bell above the door jingling. The Pet Pantry is a cute store, but I can’t say we’ve ever had more than two customers in the place at once. On some Saturdays, we won’t get a single customer all morning. Even though it’s after 11:30, this is our first.
    If