Pretty Dirty Trick

by Tabatha Kiss

  Sally spins in the direction of our table. In one stride, she drops the professional, perky smile and her eyes fill with devious intent. Sure, she’s Sweet, but that’s in name only.

  “Here are my boys,” she says.

  She lands a kiss on David’s cheek and blows one more at the rest of us.

  “Hello, Sally,” Thad says, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s staring right into her cleavage.

  David wraps his arm around her waist and yanks her closer. “I was wondering how long you were going to try and ignore me tonight.”

  She scoffs. “I am the student body President. It was my duty to perform my responsibilities first before getting to the really fun stuff.” She leans in close to Carter’s face and nips at his earlobe.

  Thad grins. “And I have been waiting for weeks to get to that fun stuff.”

  Sally’s grin grows in size. “Oh, I know you have.”

  “Wait…” David furrows his brow. “You’ve been texting him, too?”

  Carter scoffs. “She’s been texting me since the fourth of July.”

  “Max, too,” Thad says.

  I silently shake my head. Classic Sally.

  David loosens his grip. “What the hell, Sal?”

  “Oh, no.” She throws on an unconvincing pout. “So many players, only one of me. I can’t possibly take you all home…”

  I sigh. There’s only one place this is going.

  “Let’s play a little game,” she says.

  David’s annoyance fades as he imagines the possibilities, of which there are many. The others begin to relax as well, warming up to the idea of once again submitting to Sally as her nightly playmate.

  I pick up my drink. The last thing I want to go through tonight is another one of Sally Sweet’s little games.

  “I’ll pass,” I say.

  “Come on, Maximillian,” David says, smacking my shoulder. “It’ll be just like Prom Night, and the Winter Ball… and the Spring Fling. Wow, Sally, you really got around, didn’t you?”

  “Guil-ty,” she sings.

  Thad chuckles. “Give it up, Dave,” he says. “Max here has turned over a new leaf.”

  I clench my jaw at David’s grin.

  “I guess that explains it, then…”

  I take the bait. “Explains what?”

  He swigs his drink. “Nothing. Just your dad mentioned something the other day about you going soft.” He laughs. “Didn’t think that meant below-the-belt, too.”

  “Having a conscience doesn’t mean I’ve gone soft,” I argue.

  “It does in our business.”

  “Now, now, boys…” Sally says. “You two aren’t going to fight over little, old me, are you?”

  “No,” I answer, annoyed.

  “Why not?” David smirks. “You know you’ll lose? Maybe your old man was right. You are useless.”

  I grit my teeth. “On second thought, Sally, what exactly did you have in mind?”

  She perks up. Delight spreads across her face and she bites her lip. Clearly, I was the one she really wanted here. The rest of them are consolation prizes.

  “I want to play Belle and Switch,” she says. “Two teams of two. The winners get to take me home and do whatever they want to me. The losers must attempt to take home someone else here tonight. Winner’s choice.”

  “That’s filthy!” Thad nods and takes a slow, thoughtful sip from his glass. “I like it.” He taps my shoulder. “You sure you’re in?”

  I lean closer. “Let’s ruin the bastard’s night.”

  “Nice.”

  David points a finger. “Winners choose a woman only,” he says. “No dudes.”

  Sally scoffs. “That’s not nearly as fun but if all players agree—”

  “We do,” we all say.

  “Then, fine.” She spins around and walks to the bar, returning about a thirty seconds later with four large steins of fresh, cold beer. “A simple drinking contest, boys.” She distributes one to each of us. “First team to chug their glasses to the bottom wins the prize.”

  I slide my glass a little closer, silently hating myself. We’re almost thirty, for Christ’s sake. This is pathetic and stupid but I can’t resist a chance to wipe that fucking smirk off David Larkin’s face. Guess some things will never change.

  Thad bounces on his toes, shaking out his limbs for a second before hunching over his glass. Carter cracks his knuckles while David stands there, staring at me.

  “On your marks…” Sally says, settling between the teams at the table’s edge. “Get set… drink!”

  We launch for our glasses, shaking the table and drawing eyes from around the gym. I tilt the glass over my lips, pouring in as much as I can take before gulping it down. My tongue rattles and my throat stretches. I’m not eighteen anymore, that’s for sure…

  But I can’t let David have this to lord over me, too.

  I keep going, squeezing my eyes closed and blocking out Sally’s inane cackle as it echoes through my ears.

  I see more and more of the bottom of my glass with each rough gulp. Something clinks against the table. Someone pounded their glass down already but my senses are too fucked up to tell whose it was. I hope it was Thad’s.

  Another clink. Just two more big gulps and it’s all over.

  I take in the last drop and move to slam mine down. I tilt forward just as David does, too...

  His glass touches the table first.

  David and Carter throw their fists in the air, yelping and belching in victory.

  Fuck.

  “Well,” Sally says, fanning herself, “I am officially turned-on.”

  I wipe my wet lips, avoiding Thad’s disappointed face as my guts swirl.

  “Congrats, guys,” Thad mutters. “Good game.”

  “Well, hold on, now…” David grins with beer still smeared along his chin. “We’re not done here yet. You lost, so you gotta pay up.”

  “Oh, come on,” I say. “If we won, we wouldn’t have made you pay up.”

  “Bullshit.” He rubs his palms together and scans the room. “Now, let’s see…”

  Carter leans in to whisper in his ear but David shakes his head.

  “We can do better than that,” he says.

  Sally shakes on her toes, bouncing her sizeable chest up and down. “This is so exciting. I love a good Belle and Switch!”

  David’s eyes land on someone across the gym. He slaps Carter’s shoulder and he follows his pointing finger with a grin. They both nod, pleased with the choice.

  “All right, boys,” David says, turning back to us. “Meet your new date for the night.”

  He points through the standing crowd, past the open bar, to a table near the front entrance. Two women stand there, each with shot glasses and their own tall bottle of booze. Smooth dresses and strappy heels.

  “Which one?” Thad asks.

  “The one in red,” David says, smirking.

  “Who is she?”

  Sally’s jaw drops with delight. “That is Phoebe Pink.”

  I search my memory, coming up short through a haze of alcohol. My liver will hate me tomorrow. “Who?” I ask.

  “Peepee Pinkeye herself,” David says.

  Pieces snap into place in my head. There aren’t many but the puzzle starts to take shape.

  “The voucher girl?” I ask.

  Thad exhales. “Oh, come on. Really?”

  David puts on a shit-eating grin. “Really.”

  “You want us to try and sleep with her?”

  “Who’s trying? This is taking candy from a really fat and ugly baby, my friends.”

  They laugh while Thad chews on his regretful lip. I stay quiet, squinting across the gym at the girl in the red dress.

  Phoebe Pink? If I were her, I can’t say I’d ever step foot in this place again. She was the butt of every joke around here. The walking punchline two lockers down from me.

  “No,” Thad says. “Pick someone else.”

  “No can do, buddy.” D
avid throws up his hands. “Rules are rules. Besides, isn’t this your thing nowadays, Max? Helping out losers to feel better about yourself or some shit?”

  I glare at him, holding back the spike of rage with a closed fist.

  “Go on,” he continues, gesturing across the gym toward Phoebe. “I’m sure you’ll make her entire fucking life.”

  The others laugh even harder than before but Thad and I bite our tongues. Sure, ten years ago I might have found this just as hilarious. I’m not proud of that. I’m not that guy anymore.

  But I’m not going to sit silently, either.

  I take a step back from the table. “Come on, Thad.”

  His eyes widen. “Dude.”

  I turn away from them and their smiles fall a little. Was David expecting me to call his bluff? It’s possible. Too late to back out now. Not that I would.

  “Max.” Thad catches up to me but quickly hits the brakes with short, slow strides. “Really?”

  “We’re just gonna talk to her,” I say.

  “Why?”

  I look at him. “Because she’s a person.”

  He considers it, his eyes flashing with a touch of compassion. “Okay, but… we’re not really going to try and sleep with her, are we?”

  As we drift closer to the table, I make eye contact with her. Red hair tumbles over her shoulders, not at all like the greasy brown locks I vaguely remember. That dress leaves her neckline completely exposed, along with dozens of freckles circling her throat. Her class portrait stares back at me from the badge above her breasts but it’s a total stranger compared to the woman standing in front of me now.

  Her eyes quickly drop away and her cheeks flush a bright, crayon pink. Goosebumps fire up her forearms and I feel them dance down my spine, too.

  I don’t answer Thad’s question. I try to but I can’t.

  Phoebe Pink grew up.

  And she’s beautiful.

  Six

  Phoebe

  Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god.

  Max Monahan is walking toward me. He’s looking at me. Is he still looking at me?

  I flick my eyes upward.

  Yep. Still looking. Still walking this way.

  Oh, my god. Oh, my god.

  “Hey.”

  Oh, my fucking god.

  “Hello there,” Jackie greets him. “And who might you gentlemen be?”

  My neck twitches my head back up. I didn’t even notice Thad Hemsley towering over his shoulder.

  Turns out, Max isn’t the only Belle Academy hunk to get a little better with age. I remember Thad as that bumbling sidekick in the back of the class that heckled the teachers. Shaggy, dirt-blond hair that always fell over his sunglasses. He must have discovered a barber at some point… and a very chic tailor.

  They both stand on the opposite side of the table from us, their eyes locked on me.

  Max leans forward an inch and my heart stalls. “You’re Phoebe, right?” he asks me.

  I nod. “Ye— Yeah. I’m Phoebe.”

  “I’m Max.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Thad waves a stiff hand. “Thad.”

  “Yeah, I know that, too…” I clear my throat and gesture at Jackie. “And this is my friend, Ja—”

  “Bone,” she says over me, offering her hand to Thad across the table. “Jackie Bone.”

  He shakes it slowly. “Well, that’s an interesting name.”

  She nods. “It’s been screamed at many, many ceilings.”

  He blinks with amused confusion.

  Max continues staring at me, his eyes soft and oh-so-green. “So, what have you been up to?” he asks me.

  I hold up my empty glass. “Drinking,” I say, letting a piece of my giggle slip out before I shut it down.

  “No…” He chuckles. “Not tonight. Since graduation. I think you’re the only one here that doesn’t plaster my feed with updates.”

  I lay my palm on the table to keep from falling over. “You want to know what I’ve been up to?”

  He nods. “Yeah. That’s what tonight is for, right?”

  “I guess so,” I say weakly.

  “So, tell me.” Max holds my stare. “What does Phoebe Pink do now?”

  “Uh…”

  My mind goes blank and I’m eighteen again. The last ten years never happened. I have no idea who I am. I’m just that pockmarked loser gazing at Max down the hall while Sally hangs on him in a skirt that barely covers her ass.

  Jackie kicks my ankle beneath the table.

  “Books!” I spit out, wincing at the sudden shock.

  “Books?” he repeats.

  “Yeah.”

  “You do books?”

  I pause. “I think so?”

  He squints, but smiles. “Well, I do law.”

  “Yeah,” I say, my voice squeaking on the way out. “Monahan.”

  “I do planes,” Thad adds, holding a phantom steering wheel out in front of him.

  “You’re a pilot?” Jackie asks. “How cool.”

  “First Officer,” he says with a nod.

  I slump a little against the table. Just five words and she’s far more articulate than I am.

  Keep it together, Pink.

  Jackie grabs her clutch off the table. “Well, if you’ll excuse me…”

  I snap in her direction. “Where are you going?”

  “To the lady’s room, clingy.” Her words are rough and pointed, obviously indicating me to stay and talk like a damn human being. “Back soon.”

  She turns and walks off. Thad’s head spins about one-hundred and eighty degrees as her hips sway away but Max’s gaze never wanders far from me.

  “So, that girl…” he says, gesturing over his shoulder. “Is she your…?”

  His voice drifts off but I easily pick up the rest of the question.

  Oh, good. Questions. Questions require answers. Answers require words that come out of my mouth. I just have to say one word at a time without tripping over my tongue. At least he seems interested, for some reason…

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “We’re not… together. She’s my assistant.”

  “Your assistant?” Thad snaps back. “Why do you need an assistant?”

  “I run a publishing company in Burbank,” I answer.

  His brow rises with interest. “Which one?”

  “Fortnight Press.”

  “No shit?”

  I nod, pausing to study his wide-eyed stare. It’s not exactly the reaction I usually get. “No shit,” I repeat.

  He leans in, stealing my focus from Max. “That’s so weird. I’ve—” He stops mid-sentence, his gaze briefly landing on Max before sliding right back to me. “I’ve never met a publisher before. That’s cool.”

  “Oh, it’s not nearly as much fun as it sounds,” I say, feeling my stiff shoulders loosen up a bit. “Not like being a pilot, I’d imagine.”

  “Eh…” He waves a hand. “Flying is a whole lot protocol. You get too creative in the cockpit and you get fired.”

  I glance at my empty drink. “There’s not a whole lot of creativity in what I do, either, unfortunately. It’s a lot of dream-killing, to be honest.”

  Thad’s eyes grow softer on me. “Are you a writer?” he asks.

  “Yeah but I’ve never been published.” I chuckle as my nerves build up. “I don’t get a lot of time to write anymore with my hours but I love my job, don’t get me wrong…”

  Max taps my hand and fire shoots up to my elbow. “What are you drinking?” he asks.

  I pull my eyes off Thad and point a quivering finger at the bottle by Jackie’s chair. “We were working on that thing,” I say with a quick giggle, “but it is a fierce beast.”

  “Want some help?” he asks.

  “Sure.”

  Max spins around and walks to the bar, leaving me alone with Thad.

  “So,” I say, “are you a writer, too?”

  He blinks. “Me? No.”

  “No?”

  “No, no. Me? No.
Not a writer. No way.”

  I raise a brow at his fumbling response.

  Max returns and lays two new shot glasses down. “All right,” he says. “Let’s tame this beast, eh?”

  I slide the bottle toward him, keeping one eye on Thad but he avoids my gaze. Max fills our glasses along with Jackie’s for whenever she finally gets back from wherever the hell she really ran off to.

  He sets the bottle down and looks me straight in the eyes as he raises his shot glass. “To growing up,” he says.

  I lose myself in his stare. I’m not sure if it’s the major dent I’ve already put in this bottle or if it’s just the effect he’s always had on me. Maybe both.

  Howling laughter steals my attention. The blurry world around him comes into focus as I follow the sound to the table across the gym. Several people sit around it, each one twisted in their chairs, and staring at me.

  Sally Sweet. David McNally. Carter Queen. Names that always seem to creep from the back of my brain and roll off my tongue tasting like battery acid. Thad Hemsley, too. And Max, I suppose.

  The group spins around the moment they realize they’ve been caught. That dread in my insides spreads throughout my body as I lower my glass to the table.

  Max pauses. “You okay?”

  This isn’t real. There’s no way Max Monahan and Thad Hemsley wandered over here just to see what I’ve been up to these last ten years. Part of me knew that already. I just needed to hear the howling of hyenas to make myself accept it.

  To growing up?

  Guess not.

  I shift back from the table, glancing from Max to Thad to my shoes. “Jackie’s been gone a while. I’m gonna go find her. Excuse me…”

  Max turns to look over his shoulder, instantly confirming my suspicions as he stares directly at the table of jerks. I’m not sure what bullet I just dodged but I’m not going to stick around and find out either.

  I head toward the hallway and another round of laughter grows behind me. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. Maybe someone just told a funny joke that had nothing to do with me at all but the girl with braces just wants to bury her face in her locker and die.

  The hallway is empty and quiet. The old music fades off as my heels clack beneath me. Memory guides me down the hall to the nearest bathroom.

  This place. Belle Academy. Ten years have gone by and it still hasn’t changed at all. I thought I’d changed, though. I thought I’d created a bubble strong enough to block out the bullies and haters but apparently not.