See Me After Class(24)
“Greater than meeting your son for the first time?” Romeo asks.
“Okay, second-greatest moment.”
“Greater than—”
“We’re not playing this game,” Gunner sternly says, causing Romeo to chuckle.
Principal Dewitt hands the microphone to Arlo, who secures it in the stand on the podium. In his deep timbre, he says, “Thank you, Principal Dewitt. We’ll make this short and sweet. We have ten students who made it into the honors program and we’re going to call them up to receive their sash and pin.” He lifts the cup of water and I hold my breath as he takes a sip. Then I press the preset button.
I hold my breath.
My heart beating a mile a minute.
My lips drying.
My chest hollowing out from pure anticipation.
He opens his mouth and . . .
In the most high-pitched, nasally voice, he says, “Jessica Magnol—” He stops, his face contorting in confusion. “Jessica . . .”
Oh, dear God, it’s happening.
The entire assembly breaks out into laughter as Arlo tries to figure out why his voice is sounding like Alvin the Chipmunk.
Turning to Dewitt, he asks in a high-pitched voice, “Is there something wrong with the mic?”
Nyema taps on the mic and leans in to speak. I press the preset button on the iPad again. “Hello.” Her voice sounds normal.
I nearly die.
Oh my God, this is amazing.
Gunner and Romeo are gripping each other, barely able to stand as they roar with laughter.
Brow crinkled. He moves in front of the mic and I press the button again. “It’s not the mic?” he repeats, tapping it. He turns the mic off and then back on. Stella grips me in laughter.
“That better?” he squeaks. “What the—what’s happening?”
“That’s right, keep talking,” Gunner says in between a fit of laughter.
The entire gym is engulfed in laughter, and honestly, I’d feel a little bad about the confusion and anger written all over his face . . . if he weren’t such a dick to me.
Karma, my friends . . . karma.
Also, a slight tweak of the audio desk’s preset characteristics goes a very long way in revenge. Take notes.
Gunner: Status Report: Positively fuming. DEFCON 1 status.
Romeo: His face was bright red. I thought he was going to blow a gasket.
Greer: Oh God, do you think we should stop?
Gunner: Hell no. The next prank is my favorite.
Greer: Yes, but we also have to deal with him.
Romeo: Yes, we have to deal with him. I might have wanted to help you for my own motives, but now I’m invested. Full steam ahead, Greer.
Gunner: Agreed. I’m far too invested at this point.
Greer: Think he’s on to me?
Romeo: No way. He thought it was some kid adding shit to the water. You’re safe.
Greer: Okay, so . . . blue pee?
Gunner: Blue pee.
Romeo: I need blue pee so much in my life.
Greer: Okay, we shall commence blue pee Thursday next week.
Gunner: God bless chemistry.
Chapter Six
ARLO
“Coraline, dinner is ready,” I shout to the backyard, where my sister is buried deep in her phone.
“Can we eat out here?”
“If you come help me with the plates and drinks.”
She pops up from a lounger and walks inside. I hand her a plate of salmon, rice, and asparagus, and an ice-cold water.
“Water?”
“Your wine consumption has been heavy lately.”
“I’m getting a divorce at the ripe age of twenty-seven. I believe I have a pass when it comes to the amount of wine I’m allowed to consume.”
“There’s no pass, and there’s no wine tonight.”
Huffing, she walks her plate and water out to the back patio and takes a seat at one of the outdoor tables. I take a seat across from her and hope she’s feeling open enough tonight.
Ever since she moved in, it’s as if she’s reverted back to teenage Coraline with her moodiness and evasiveness. I worry, because she’s exhibiting the same behaviors as before she ended up in the hospital, bleeding out of her wrists . . .
I swallow hard, unable to get the image of my lifeless sister sprawled out on the bathroom floor, blood seeped into her clothing, out of my head.
“Why do you have that look on your face?”
“What look?”
“That concerned, older brother look that says ‘I’m about to lecture you, so you better listen.’”
I slice my fork through the salmon and scoop up the meat with some rice, not missing the mango salsa I decided to make last minute. “I’m not going to lecture you.”
“Bullshit,” she says with a laugh. “You fail to realize that I know you—well—and you’re about to lecture me, especially after the enforced wine restriction.”
Sighing, I push a piece of asparagus with my fork and glance up at my sister. “I’m concerned, Coraline.”
“Ah, do I know you, or what?” she asks, placing a piece of asparagus in her mouth.
“Do you blame me? Your behavior is erratic—”
“How so?”