Copyright © 2019 by Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.
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Darby Creek
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Main body text set in Janson Text LT Std 12/17.5. Typeface provided by Adobe Systems.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Pratt, Jeffrey, 1967– author.
Title: The prank / Jeffrey Pratt.
Description: Minneapolis : Darby Creek, [2019] | Series: The do-over | Summary: Reeling from the repercussions of a prank gone wrong, Audrey takes the opportunity to do her day over, but doing so makes her see more about the day and forces her to make serious changes to how she decides to go forward.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018015838 (print) | LCCN 2018023034 (ebook) | ISBN 9781541541931 (eb pdf) | ISBN 9781541540309 (lb : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781541545526 (pb : alk. paper)
Subjects: | CYAC: Practical jokes—Fiction. | Guilt—Fiction. | High schools—Fiction. | Schools—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.P699 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.1.P699 Pr 2019 (print) | DDC [Fic]—-dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018015838
Manufactured in the United States of America
1-45235-36617-9/10/2018
1
“We could maybe put bees in her locker. Like, lots of bees. Angry bees,” Rachel suggested.
“Kinda extreme, don’t you think?” Audrey shook her head. She loved her friends, but sometimes they got carried away. She knew she had to be the voice of reason as they plotted revenge against Hope Barcomb for the smallest of reasons. They were all gathered in Melicia’s backyard around a small fire pit and, amazingly, were actually considering the angry bees plan. “No bees,” Audrey added firmly, mostly for Rachel’s sake.
“Whatever,” Rachel sighed. “But we have to do something. Hope Barcomb has to be stopped.”
“Here’s a crazy idea,” Audrey said. “How about: Ig. Nore. Her.”
Rachel stood. “You weren’t there. If you were, you would think we should do something too.”
Audrey rolled her eyes. Then, she looked for some help from Melicia, who was sitting cross-legged on the front end of her lounge chair. Melicia was hunched over her laptop as usual. Her fingers moving rapidly over the keys.
“How bad was it?” Audrey asked.
“I don’t know,” Melicia said, not looking up from whatever she was working on. “The usual, I guess.”
Audrey slid her gaze to Bryant, and he shrugged too. He was leaning back on his elbows, his long legs stretched out. “Yeah, the usual,” he agreed.
“So,” Audrey looked back at Rachel, “then it’s not really a big deal. Why are we still talking about this?”
“Because how and when did this become ‘the usual’?” Rachel asked. “Why does Hope Barcomb get to say and do whatever she wants?”
“She made a fart noise at you,” Audrey replied.
“Yeah,” Rachel said. “Every time I walk by. She’s been doing it all week. It’s gross and stupid. And, of course, all her stupid friends think it’s the most hilarious thing they ever heard. And that’s just one example—the latest example. Sheila Faller transferred out of school because of Hope. You know that, right? And have you somehow forgotten the time she got into your gym locker and filled your sneakers with hair gel?”
“Classic,” Bryant smiled.
“Don’t even start, Bryant.” Rachel glared at him before turning back to Audrey. “Because I haven’t forgotten. She’s just an awful person.”
“The Sheila Faller thing is a rumor. I think she had to move because her mom got a new job. And, as for the hair gel, that was more than two years ago. And it’s kind of unimportant, all things considered. Why get into a thing with her?”
“She thinks she’s a big deal because her dad is the dean of students,” Rachel spat back.
Audrey shook her head. “She thinks she’s a big deal because, at Clara Barton High, she is a big deal. Why get so upset over it?”
“I just think she’s a bully,” Rachel argued. “She makes her stupid comments and then says she was just joking. The number of times I’ve heard her ask ‘Can’t you take a joke?’ is ridiculous. And since daddy’s always got her back, the school’s clearly not going to do anything about it. So someone else should.”
“Okay, then do something,” Audrey said. “Write a post about it for the blog. Not about her, specifically. But maybe something about bullying at the school. Or when ‘joking around’ can go too far or—”
“Boring,” Rachel grunted.
Audrey laughed. “Apparently not to you. I think it could actually be a good article. And I bet the comments section would blow up.”
Rachel shook off the idea. “No, what we should do is put something up on the blog about her specifically. Something nasty. Then tell her ‘Just joking! Can’t you take a joke?’”
For almost two years, the four of them had run a blog that covered everything from the rising prices in the school cafeteria and phone-app reviews to “Top 8 Valentines’ Day Ideas for the Terribly Truly Lonely.” The Espresso had started as something to do one weekend but had turned into a regular thing where they took turns adding new posts every week: long essays about some social justice or news item by Audrey, reviews of some kind from Mel, Rachel’s infamous Top 8 lists, and Bryant’s funny cartoons—including an ongoing series called The Pi Chronicles about a one-eyed dog and his neighborhood friends.
It was surprising how much fun they had working on the blog. It was even more surprising how many people actually read it. It had basically become the unofficial news source of the school. And once kids started posting about it on social media, it even got a decent amount of attention beyond the school.
Part of the attention was from people trying to figuring out who at Clara Barton wrote the blog.
All posts were anonymous. And they used some special software Melicia had found to conceal their location and real email addresses. Plus they usually used the local library computers instead of their own laptops to be on the safe side. All four friends played along like they had no idea who it was, either. When they all graduated next year and stopped posting, people would probably be able to narrow it down easily enough. But for now, Audrey thought it was a good idea to keep the blog more neutral, which meant not attacking one person specifically.
“Or we post something about her that just might be true?” Melicia suggested, looking up from her laptop. “Enough to get people talking.”
“Yes!” Rachel squealed. “I love it!”
“You’re both terrible,” Audrey said, hoping her dismissive attitude would shut them down.
Bryant perked up. “I don’t know. That could be kind of cool. I mean, what’s the point of having an anonymous blog if we can’t use it for stuff like this?”
Audrey raised an eyebrow. “You mean lies? We’ve never put fake stuff on the blog before.”
“What about Bryant’s cartoons?” Rachel pointed out. “Or your, ah, satiric articles about wizard schools and zombie apocalypses.”
“Those are jokes,” Audrey corrected. “Satire. It’s all just for fun.”
“Then write this one for fun,” said Me
licia.
“Hang on, how is it that I’m now the one responsible for writing this?”
“You are the best writer . . .” Melicia said.
“Guilty as charged,” Audrey grinned. “But no thanks.”
“Then I’ll write it,” Rachel declared.
“I vote yes,” Melicia added, popping her head up again.
“Ditto,” said Bryant.
Audrey was clearly outvoted three to one. But she wasn’t quite ready to give up on trying to show them what a bad idea this was. “Then why stop there?” she asked sarcastically. “Why not aim higher? Let’s go for her dad.”
Bryant’s eyes widened in the firelight. “Dean Barcomb?”
“Sure,” Audrey said. She kept hoping they’d see how ridiculous they were being. After all, nobody had a problem with the dean, other than the fact that his daughter was obnoxious. “Take them both down at the same time. Write something about how, I don’t know, he faked his resume and whatnot. Lied about his diploma or work experience. That kind of thing.”
“Yes!” Rachel cheered.
Audrey tried to backtrack. “No! It was another joke. I was trying to—”
Rachel stopped her, grabbing both her shoulders. “You, Audrey Zimmer, are a total genius. And we should totally do it.”
Audrey scowled. “Hope’s right. You guys really can’t take a joke. Forget it.”
“Too late,” Rachel replied. “You already put it out there. Can’t forget now.”
“I’ve found a couple of his social media accounts . . .” Melicia typed away at her laptop keys with even greater speed than before. “And a professional jobs and business connections account.” She looked up with genuine joy. “He posted his resume.”
A sick worry coiled in Audrey’s stomach. “If we get caught, we’ll be expelled. Maybe even worse. Sued or something.”
“If we get caught,” Melicia said. “And we won’t. The blog’s completely anonymous and untraceable. No one will ever know who wrote it. No one’s getting in trouble and no one’s getting sued.”
Bryant was still grinning, excited. “We should say that he takes bribes, like fifty bucks gets you off probation. We could even make up a criminal record with mugshots and all. Here, look!”
He held up a rough cartoon of Mr. Barcomb’s mugshot. It had numbers below his face and all. The drawing was already spot on and he’d worked on it for about two minutes. Audrey knew the finished one would be a masterpiece.
“Um, maybe stick to your zombie drawings,” Audrey said.
“I prefer vampires,” he answered. “I wonder if Mr. Barcomb would make a good vampire.” He went back to his sketch pad, his face mostly lost in the darkness.
Audrey shook her head. Now things were just getting ridiculous. Who would believe Mr. Barcomb was a vampire? The idea of him even taking bribes was, frankly, just as absurd. But suddenly Audrey saw a sliver of an opportunity. Bryant’s idea might actually be a good thing. The more outrageous the claims, the more it would look like a fake story to everyone. Especially with the cartoon mugshot. It was probably best to skip the vampire angle, but if Audrey worked it out right, no one would take it seriously anyway. Rachel would have her revenge, but the whole thing would blow over as soon as Melicia posted her next review of some lame horror film. Maybe this could work.
“It’s going up whether you help us or not,” Rachel said.
“Fine,” Audrey agreed. “Let’s do it.”
2
The blog went up.
CLARA BARTON CRIME LORD: SCHOOL DEAN EXPOSED
Rachel thought it was the greatest thing ever.
But apparently no one else cared.
The post got a couple of likes but no comments. Two days went by, then three, and still no one at school had brought it up. It was as if the story had never been posted at all. Hope Barcomb marched through the halls of Clara Barton as she always did, making jokes and fart noises to her heart’s content.
Audrey was honestly a little surprised.
They’d spent all weekend pulling the post together and it was pretty well done. She’d written that Dean Barcomb didn’t have the background he said he did and added fake quotes from students who claimed to have paid Barcomb to get out of trouble. They’d even created and posted some fake documents. It was ridiculous.
Still, the fewer people who saw it, the better. Audrey had been pushing Bryant to finish his next Pi Chronicles cartoon so they could get another post up as soon as possible. And there was probably some new binge-worthy series that Melicia could write about. Audrey figured it was only a matter of time before the Barcomb post would be lost beneath all the newly posted articles.
On the fourth day, however, someone commented claiming he’d paid Dean Barcomb $100 to get out of trouble for trying to leave school grounds without a pass.
Then more comments started appearing: “not surprised” and “bet they didn’t even check his resume.”
Another: “This school will hire anyone! SMH.”
The link popped up in a group chat Audrey was in. Then Dean Barcomb’s picture—his real picture, not the cartoon one Bryant had drawn—showed up as a meme and made the rounds.
Audrey didn’t say anything to Rachel, Mel, or Bryant, and they returned the favor. Usually they didn’t talk much about old posts—it would be too easy to be overheard and caught.
But by the end of the week, even with Melicia’s new movie review posted, people were talking about the Barcomb post all over the school. They all seemed to be wondering if it was true. Audrey couldn’t tell if the story’s comments were real or if others were just joining in on the joke. For her part, she mostly ignored the talk or laughed about how stupid it was.
When her dad asked how school was, like he did every night at dinner, she didn’t bring up the gossip. Usually, she gave him a full report. It was just the two of them—her mom had left for good when she was little—and they had always been pretty open. But not about the blog. Not about this.
Still, Audrey was confident that all she and her friends needed to do was make it to the weekend. Gossip and stupid memes had short shelf lives. A day or two at most. One weekend would put an end to it, she was sure.
Mostly sure, anyway.
* * *
Audrey and her dad went to visit Audrey’s grandma over the weekend. It was a good distraction. She didn’t have to think about the blog. And she was glad to not have to face her three friends until this mess was all cleared up.
But by Monday, it had only gotten bigger.
Four more people had claimed online that they’d paid off Barcomb.
Another wrote Barcomb once “joked about having a degree in Poultry Science.”
Hope Barcomb now walked down the hall to the sound of chickens clucking.
You could almost feel her anger, like something out of Greek mythology. The lockers practically shook as she passed. It was amazing but also awful.
“Nope, she clearly can’t take a joke,” Rachel beamed after school when they all gathered at Melicia’s house.
“We should delete the post,” Audrey argued. “Like, right now.”
“Why?” Bryant asked, shrugging. “It’s obviously fake. And it’s working exactly the way we wanted it to. Did you see Hope today? Even her own friends are giving her a hard time.”
“Good,” Rachel said. “That’s what she gets for having such lousy friends. Let her get a taste of her own medicine for a change.”
“I agree with Audrey,” Melicia said quietly. “It’s probably good to take it down now.”
“I thought you said no one could figure out who put it up,” Bryant said, turning toward her with a frown.
“They can’t,” Melicia said. “But we don’t want anyone looking too hard either. If it turns into a thing . . .” She trailed off.
“Like a legal thing.” Audrey couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.
“Right. Maybe the cops could . . . I don’t know.” Melicia looked a little nervous. “They’ll may
be figure it was loaded from the library and get security footage or something.”
“Oh, please.” Rachel waved off the idea. “No, they won’t.”
Bryant’s voice was a little too high and strained. “I thought you used that special software stuff.”
“I do, but,” Melicia shrugged, “why mess around with it? Let’s just delete it and be done. Audrey’s right. Hope’s been knocked down a peg. Let it go.”
“I vote yes,” Audrey said quickly. “Take it down.”
“Me too.” Melicia turned to Bryant. “I’m not even gonna ask dear Rachel.”
Rachel grinned. “I think we should publically accuse her mother of witchcraft.”
“Now who’s the bully?” Audrey glared.
“It was a joke!” Rachel laughed. “Jeez, lighten up. Fine. We don’t even need Bryant’s vote. Take it down.”
“Good,” Audrey said, relief washing over her whole body.
“Who wants to go to the library with me?” Melicia asked. Her tech skills made her involvement almost mandatory. She was the only one who knew how to use the special flash drive she made with the software that messed with the coding to keep the posts anonymous. But it didn’t seem right to make her go alone.
“I have a shift at the supermarket soon,” Rachel said quickly.
Bryant shrugged. Audrey guessed that was a no.
“I’ll go,” Audrey said.
* * *
Audrey knew she was just being paranoid, but she felt like everybody at the library was watching them as Melicia logged into a computer. Her eyes darted from person to person—an older woman who lived a few houses away from Bryant, a girl she recognized from her math class, one of the kids she played soccer with when they were little—all of whom would be able to identify her.
The nerves that she had when they first started posting on the blog, nerves that had gone away after the first couple of months of making these regular trips to the library, were suddenly back. To cover her uneasiness, she started talking to Melicia a little too loudly about her English class. The librarian looked up from what he was doing at his computer, and a guy with a Clara Barton baseball T-shirt gave her an odd look. Audrey realized she was just calling more attention to herself and quickly shut up.
The Prank Page 1
