Page 10

Kota

“N ext,” I said, holding my hand out as I stood steadily on a chair, Bridget on the floor beside me.

Bridget let out a small sigh as she handed me another tampon. “You know he’s gonna wanna kill you, right?”

I smiled. “He already wants to kill me.”

I’d seen people online pull this prank on their friends where they taped hotdogs to their ceiling.

The only differences here were that Crew was not my friend and that we were substituting hotdogs with tampons.

After I got the idea, I asked Bridget to run to the store with me to get two big boxes of tampons. She was more than hesitant, so it took quite a bit of convincing, but after twenty minutes of giving her my best puppy dog expression, she gave in.

“Have you ever thought that maybe you take things a little too far sometimes?”she asked.

“All the time,” I admitted.

“Yet you never stop and think, ‘ Hey, maybe I shouldn’t do that?’”

I gave a light sneer. “What’s the fun in that?”

Shaking her head, she handed me another tampon with a piece of tape attached to the end of the string.

“I could’ve done much worse,” I said. “I could’ve filled them with fake blood or some shit.”

B kept her voice flat, sarcastic. “Wow, how sweet of you to not do that.”

“Just think of it this way— I’m teaching Crew how to be more comfortable living with us.”

“And what happens if he tries getting you back?”

I glanced at her, the thought immediately making my blood boil. “Then I’ll get him back harder.”

“Oh geez,” she muttered. “If this turns into a full-on war, I’m staying out of it.”

“That’s fine,” I shrugged, attaching the tape to the ceiling and sliding my hand across it to make sure it stuck. “Even if Crew convinced Lane to be on his side and help him— which he won’t because Lane is too much of a little angel— but if he did, they still wouldn’t be able to beat me.”

“You don’t think so?” she asked. “Not even if it were two on one?”

“Nah,” I said confidently. “They’re not smart enough.”

B’s voice became a bit sharper. “Lane’s pretty smart.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “He is.” I hopped off the chair and looked around the room. Tampons lined the ceiling, looking like some strange room décor.

This was going to be awesome. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Crew’s face and brand the sight into my memory forever.

“Can we be done now? There are hardly any tampons left.”

“We haven’t done above his bed.”

Bridget let out a groan, gesturing towards it. “Be my guest then.”

I stared at Crew’s unmade bed, my face twisting into disgust when I remembered how many girls he’s already brought home after only a month of living here. “Actually, pass. I don’t wanna have to stand on that bed. Who knows what’s been done on that thing?”

Bridget picked up the remaining tampon wrappers off the floor while I pushed the chair back into Crew’s desk.

When the apartment door opened, followed by heavy feet against the kitchen floor, Bridget’s and my head zipped towards the bedroom door and then to each other.

Without saying anything, we both scrambled out of the room and tiptoed down the hall. I led the way, stopping at the corner and peeking my head around it.

I breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s just Lane,” I said aloud, emerging into the common area fearlessly.

His eyes shot over to us, brows inwards. “Why were you guys down our hall?”

“Where’s Crew?” Bridget asked, brushing over his question.

Lane flicked a thumb over his shoulder, studying us suspiciously. “Right behind me. He should be walking in any second.”

Bridget and I traded another glance, then rushed over to the couch and practically dove onto it, trying too hard to situate ourselves so that we looked normal.

“You guys are being weird,” Lane said.

“Shouldn’t you go shower or something?” I whirred.

He raised a single brow, unamused.

“What?” I shot at him, hands up. “You just got back from the gym. Aren’t you all gross?”

“Yeah,” he confessed. “But Crew already called dibs on showering first, so I’m gonna have to wait.”

Speaking of the devil, there he was, strutting in like he owned the place.

He tossed his keys on the counter. Typical Crew move, throwing his shit wherever.

We had a key holder hanging by the door for a reason.

But I kept my mouth shut, same with Bridget, our eyes glued painfully to the TV.

Crew stopped just short of the boy’s hall. His curly hair was a mess, and he was glistening— quite literally— the remnants of sweat lingering all over his body.

His eyes narrowed, taking in our stiff and awkward positioning. “Why do you guys look like that?”

Bridget’s small voice shook in the slightest as she responded. “Like what?”

Crew’s eyes darted over to me, growing wary.

I sat up straighter. “What are you looking at?” I spewed.

Jaw shifting for a moment, he slowly turned and headed down the hall.

We stayed quiet as Lane studied us, seemingly on edge just as much as Crew. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him open his mouth and inhale as if he were about to make another comment, but he was cut off by a deep yell.

“What the fuck?!”

My hand shot up to my mouth, covering my giggle while Bridget sank deeper into the couch beside me, shielding her entire face minus her eyes with a blanket.

“What did you guys do?” Lane asked with irritation, just in time for Crew to appear from down the hall, his face red hot.

“What the hell is all over my room?” he spat.

I gave him a casual shrug through my laughter. “You tell me.”

Bridget lowered her blanket for a moment as she spoke. “I told you he’d be really mad.”

“I know,” I laughed. “This is like Christmas!”

Crew pointed at me with a taut finger. “I know this was your idea.”

“Of course, it was!” I said proudly, still laughing.

Lane threw his hands up. “I’m fucking lost.”

“Go take a look,” Bridget said to him.

Letting out a long exhale, Lane lightly bumped into Crew’s shoulder on his way down the hall. Crew remained steady, eyes angrily on the floor, jaw still twitching beneath his skin.

An entertained holler echoed through the apartment and Lane reappeared, bending over in laughter. “Are those tampons?”

I could tell his reaction was pissing Crew off more from the way his fists drew in at his sides. “This isn’t fucking funny,” Crew muttered.

Tapping him on the shoulder, Lane said, “Bro, c’mon.”

With an insidious smirk, I asked, “You don’t like it?”

“No,” his voice raised. “No, I do not like the tampon mistletoe in my goddamn room!”

Bridget shyly raised her hand like a young child in a classroom.

“What?” Crew snapped.

“I just want to make it clear that this was not my idea, and I was coerced into participating,” she said before hiding behind her blanket again.

He sighed, shaking his head before turning all his attention and anger solely onto me. “Clean it up now,” he demanded.

“Too scared to clean it up yourself?” I teased.

“Kota,” he pushed.

“Ugh,” I groaned, giving a slight eye roll. “I just sat down. Give me a few minutes.”

He took a step backwards, eyes still targeted at me. “I’m gonna take a shower. It better be gone by the time I get out.”

I held in another giggle as he began walking away, and when he turned over his shoulder, I raised a brow. “And I hope you know I’m gonna get you back,” he promised.

I smirked in amusement. “Good luck.”