Five Times Revenge

by Lindsay Eland

  And even then, in second grade, Perk had liked things short and to the point.

  It wasn’t that he’d been ashamed of Tommy. At the same time, he’d really wanted to stay friends with Adam. But, if Adam hadn’t been nice to Tommy, then Perk couldn’t have been friends with Adam anymore—he wouldn’t have been friends with him anymore.

  Adam had pulled open the door handle. “Hi, Perk. My mom made these. Wow, I like your house.”

  “Thanks.”

  Tommy had run out, his red T-shirt covered in chocolate from earlier that morning, but because it was his favorite, he wouldn’t take it off until an identical one came out of the laundry.

  Perk’s mouth had gone dry.

  Then Adam had stuck out his hand to Tommy and grinned. “Hey, I’m Adam. Do you like chocolate chip cookies?”

  And that was that.

  Not until a few days ago, when he and Adam had started trying to find out more about Pearl and Ray and Dutch, did he start thinking about what they’d think of himself.

  He knew himself as Tommy’s brother. He knew himself as Adam’s best friend.

  But now he was also just Perk.

  What did that mean?

  The thought brought a terrifying thrill to his stomach, and he ate the last bite of his burrito.

  Was it a bad thing? A good thing? Was it anything at all?

  CHAPTER 13

  Ray

  Ray started down the sidewalk, occasionally glancing down at the directions in his hands. He didn’t know how Perk had found out his locker combination, but he couldn’t say it surprised him.

  Even back in elementary school, that kid seemed to know things. Adam, too. But he’d always known that about Adam Baker, at least ever since fourth grade when he found a way to change the school lunch menu so that every day for a month was pizza day.

  That had been a great month.

  But did Adam or Perk, Pearl or Dutch or anyone, for that matter, suspect that Ray was smart?

  Adam may have thought it for a moment or two at the beginning of the year.

  Ray shouldn’t have tried so hard to fix the calculator that one day.

  He had taken a strange sort of pride in it, though. He liked fixing things, and when he saw the calculator in the “broken equipment” box in science class he thought he’d give it a try. He’d been so absorbed in it that he hadn’t seen Adam watching him until he was almost done.

  Then when the bell had rung, he tossed it into the “working” box and walked out without checking to see if he’d actually fixed it.

  Adam walked up to him at his locker. “Nice work,” he said. “How did you know how to do that?”

  Ray had laughed. “It worked?”

  “Yeah.”

  He shrugged. “I was just messing around. Lucky, I guess.”

  Adam regarded him—and it definitely was more like a regard than a look or a glance or a stare. Adam shrugged. “Huh. Seems like more than that.”

  Ray didn’t say anything. Instead, he ignored Adam and walked to his next class.

  Adam hadn’t said anything like that since.

  For a brief moment, when he’d first pulled the piece of paper from his locker that afternoon, Ray thought that maybe Adam suspected that he was more than just muscle and bulk … and he’d felt different.

  Ray glanced down at the piece of paper with Adam’s address and stuffed it into his pocket.

  It would take him about fifteen minutes to walk there.

  And food was provided.

  He’d go.

  They probably only needed him because he was big and he was strong. But maybe he’d show them that he was more than that.

  Maybe this was his chance to be big and strong and—smart.

  CHAPTER 14

  Pearl

  “Have you done your homework yet?” Pearl’s mother glanced up as she pushed fabric through her sewing machine.

  “I don’t have any.”

  “Practiced your violin?”

  “Just about to.”

  Her dad was away on a business trip … again. He seemed to be taking them more. Maybe if he was home every day, then her parents wouldn’t fight as much.

  Or maybe they’d fight more.

  Pearl pulled out a package of frosted Pop-Tarts from the cabinet, filled up a glass with ice-cold milk, and then started back to her room, balancing the snack and drink on her violin case. Once inside, she gently placed everything on her dresser and closed her bedroom door.

  She took out her violin, stroked the bow across the strings a few times, then set it back down on her bed and clicked Violin Music on her iPod, the music trilling through the speakers, just loud enough that it would sound as if she were playing.

  Of course, she did need to practice, but she couldn’t practice right now. Not with the crinkled-up slip of paper in her back pocket that told her to go to room 207 for detention. Not after what had just happened about an hour before.

  Pearl nibbled on the Pop-Tart then set it down, wishing she’d taken the burrito that had been offered to her in detention. Her phone dinged inside her backpack, and when she pulled it out, three new messages popped up.

  KAT: where were u at lunch? Need 2 get 2gether soon. Going 2 sam’s right?

  SARI: u going 2 sam’s on Sat? u should go, don’t want 2 b only 1

  DELLA: hi! Call me later…john totally likes u! we need 2 talk! I think u need 2 give him a chance ;)

  Pearl closed her phone and sighed.

  If Kat had been listening earlier that morning, she would’ve remembered that Pearl had a dentist appointment during lunch. And she’d already told Sari two times that she was going to Sam’s on Saturday, and she’d already talked to Della about John—how she could never really like him—at least not like that. Besides, wasn’t Della the one who told her that John’s parents didn’t want him to interracially date?

  Was anyone ever really listening to anything she said?

  And what about Adam and Perk and the others? If she joined in on whatever Adam and Perk were planning, would they listen to her either?

  Did she really have anything to say or anything worth listening to?

  Pearl broke off a piece of Pop-Tart and popped it into her mouth. Yes, she did have things worth saying and things worth listening to. Maybe she’d be able to prove it if she joined in with Adam and Perk?

  Adam. She knew him a little bit. He was nice. He didn’t seem to care what anyone else thought and walked around smiling at everyone—even Hill Parmar—which Hill hated. What wasn’t to like about that?

  Perk she only knew as Adam’s friend. His cheeks usually flushed red whenever anyone talked to him, and he kept pretty quiet. Today during detention was the most she had ever heard him speak. Someone, maybe Kat, had told her once that his brother was sort of a crazy person, but Kat had also told the whole school that Pearl threw up her lunch after she ate it, which was a complete lie, so Kat wasn’t the most reliable source.

  Ray? He was practically a bully himself. Sari told her that in fifth grade, he put gum in her hair and tripped her on the way to lunch. Pearl never saw that side of him, but with the way he scowled like an angry giant through the halls, she could imagine.

  The violin playlist ended, and Pearl reached over to turn it off. She would really have to practice in a minute or two.

  But then there was Dutch Walker.

  Hill’s crowd called him Dutchy Dork. He had a twitch, or maybe it was a tic, in his face that made him squint every so often—well, more than that. And then there was that old coat he wore Every. Single. Day.

  But, there was also third grade.

  It had been about five years, and still Pearl had not forgotten that third-grade afternoon. She’d been crying at the end of school, sitting on the bench in front of the school thinking that her mom had completely forgotten about her or that maybe something had happened to her on the drive over. It had been a rainy day, with thick clouds and a light drizzle that slowly began to soak into her purple pants—th
e ones that she wore Every. Single. Day. The whole day had been terrible. Her best friend, Sari, had shown everyone in the class a note that Pearl had written. Everyone had laughed at the fact that she still slept with her favorite lamb, and her face had burned when everyone tried to get her to hold hands with Chad, who she had said was cute, even though just thinking about holding his hand made her stomach flip so much that she felt like she was going to throw up.

  At the end of the day, Sari had said she was sorry, and Pearl had forgiven her.

  She was good at forgiving.

  But that didn’t mean she forgot. Forgetting was harder.

  She had been sitting on the curb thinking about what had happened when all of a sudden, there was Dutch, kneeling in front of her, not caring that his pants were most likely getting soaked.

  He squinted. “Why are you crying?”

  “My mom’s late. I think she might have forgot.” Pearl sniffed and swiped her nose. She wished he would just leave—she didn’t want anyone seeing her cry, and she didn’t even know him. Maybe he’d tell everyone in school that she’d been crying.

  But then again, she didn’t want to be all alone, either.

  “I’m sure she didn’t,” he said, squinting again. “But I’ll wait with you.”

  “Did your mom forget you, too?”

  Squint, squint. “No. I don’t have a mom. Or a dad, actually. Well, I guess I do, sort of.” Squint. “My grandpa and grandma. But they didn’t forget me. They just run late sometimes.”

  Pearl nodded.

  The drizzle started to pick up, and the cold seemed to seep inside her skin all the way down to her bones and out the other side. She shivered.

  “Here,” he said. Squint, squint. “You can wear this for now.” He didn’t hand the coat to her, but instead set it on her head. “So your hair doesn’t get wet. My grandma hates it when her hair gets wet.”

  “I understand.” And she did. “Thanks.”

  “Do you want to hear a joke?”

  Pearl shrugged. “Sure.”

  Dutch got up and sat next to her on the bench. “Knock. Knock.”

  “Who’s there?”

  “Old lady.” Squint, squint.

  “Old lady who?”

  “I didn’t know you could yodel.”

  She smiled. “I like that.”

  And then her mom pulled up to the curb, frazzled and worried and apologizing for being late.

  Pearl sighed, relieved. “That’s okay.” She hopped into the car and waved at Dutch through the slightly foggy window.

  After that, she said hi to Dutch every day for the rest of the year. Sometimes she still did, though she said it so quiet that he didn’t hear.

  She didn’t know why.

  But that joke always made her smile.

  Her phone dinged.

  DELLA: movie on sun afternoon! u in?

  Pearl sighed and looked down at the note and then at the directions to Adam’s house.

  PEARL: sorry, can’t. c u tomorrow

  Maybe, if she was caught sitting in the pouring rain again, Dutch would tell her another joke.

  CHAPTER 15

  Dutch

  1. Make Pearl smile

  2. Join in whatever plan Adam and Perk come up with

  When he saw Pearl walk into detention that afternoon, his face squinted again and again and again. He had tried hiding it by popping a piece of gum into his mouth, but it hadn’t worked. Nothing ever worked.

  And why did he still try to hide it? It wasn’t like people didn’t know. It wasn’t like they couldn’t tell. He was the kid that squinted all the time.

  He was his tic.

  But then Pearl had smiled at him. He’d seen it. It was brief, but it was there.

  Sometimes she whispered hello to him in the hallway. He always heard, but sometimes he acted like he didn’t. He didn’t know why. Already he was trying to think of a joke to tell her.

  Of course he felt bad for Perk’s brother and he wanted to get back at Hill, but he couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t mostly because of Pearl.

  “Hey,” Adam said after detention. Dutch stood waiting for Gramps to pick him up.

  “Hey.” Squint.

  “You waiting for your dad?”

  “Well, my grandpa, but yeah.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Sorry.”

  “You don’t need to be sorry.”

  Gramps pulled up to the curb, honking the horn twice. He wasn’t late today, which meant he’d probably had an afternoon nap. That, along with a good cup of coffee, meant that he’d be ready to play cards this evening.

  “Does your friend need a ride?” Gramps asked. He leaned down to see out the passenger-side window, his hat slipping a little off his head.

  Dutch didn’t really think that Adam would say yes and get into the car. But then, there they were: he, his grandpa, and Adam riding along down the street. Adam was nice, too. He talked to Dutch’s grandpa like he was a real person instead of an old man. Dutch hated when people did that, and so did Gramps. Sometimes, when they were playing cards in the evening, he and Gramps would make up funny things about what people had said to him or to Grammie before she died.

  They laughed so hard they cried.

  And sometimes Dutch wasn’t sure if the tears were funny or if they were for missing Grammie.

  They pulled up in front of Adam’s house and he opened the door. “Thanks for the ride,” Adam said.

  “My pleasure.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, Dutch.”

  Dutch squinted and said, “See ya.”

  Adam walked up to his door and disappeared inside.

  Gramps pulled away from the curb. “He seems like a good kid.”

  “Yeah. He invited me to do a project with a few other kids.” Dutch hated not telling his grandpa the whole truth, but he also didn’t know much about what they were going to do. So maybe it wasn’t really a lie.

  “That’s nice,” Gramps said. “How was the rest of your day?”

  Dutch left out the parts that had to do with getting locked in the girls’ bathroom and not having lunch because Hill had filled his lunch bag with sand. He knew that wasn’t telling the whole truth, either, but he couldn’t help it. Gramps worried about him. And now, without Grammie around, he seemed to worry more.

  And he looked older.

  “She was my backbone, the marrow, and the muscles that held me together,” he told Dutch when she died.

  Dutch wondered if there was much left.

  “But don’t you worry,” Gramps had said. “We’ll make it. You and me.”

  Dutch didn’t want to make things harder.

  When they pulled up in front of their little apartment building, Dutch hopped out, grabbed the two grocery bags sitting in the trunk, Gramps following after him. Inside, Gramps took off his hat and Dutch took off his coat, then Dutch set to heating up the tomato soup and making the grilled cheese.

  Gramps cooked last night, so it was Dutch’s turn.

  When everything was ready, Dutch took a seat at the table across from his grandpa and dealt out the cards.

  Queen of hearts, king of hearts, ten of hearts, two of spades, jack of diamonds … He smiled over the top of his cards, meeting his grandpa’s twinkling eyes. Despite Hill filling up his lunch bag with sand earlier that day, Adam and Perk had invited him to join in on a plan to get back at the Parmars, Pearl had smiled at him, he was sitting at the table playing cards with Grandpa, and there was no way that he wasn’t going to win this game of gin.

  He squinted.

  All in all it was a pretty good day.

  CHAPTER 16

  Adam

  He knew he shouldn’t.

  He really shouldn’t.

  He wouldn’t like it if someone did it to him, right?

  But then, would he? He didn’t have anything to hide. Besides, everyone was given a school e-mail address that the teachers had them use for assignments and stuff like that, but it wasn’t like anyone used it
for personal stuff.

  At least, he didn’t think so.

  Adam’s cell phone rang and he picked it up. “Hey, Perk. What’s up?”

  “Hey.” He paused. “So I see you’re on the school files again.”

  Adam raised his eyebrows. “You can see what I’m doing?”

  “Yep, when you’re on this site at least. I can see everything you’re doing. And right now, you’re snooping around like an old lady.”

  “Ha-ha. Just looking around for some more info on Pearl and Ray and Dutch. You’re not still curious?”

  “You know I didn’t really want anyone besides us. Are you second-guessing it now? We could still do it on our own if you want.”

  Even though he couldn’t make himself admit it out loud, Adam was second-guessing Pearl, Ray, and Dutch. At least a little. What if Perk was right about Pearl and she pulled a Benedict Arnold on them at the end? What if Dutch chickened out? What if Ray messed everything up?

  But then how would they be able to pull off something huge just the two of them? True, they’d pulled off their April Fools’ pranks, but that was small. Too small. If they decided to do something with Parmar’s job, or send him and Hill off to Siberia? That would take more than two.

  They needed Pearl, Ray, and Dutch. “I’m not second-guessing. Just doing a little more recon before Sunday.”

  “Whatever you say. So what do you want to look at?”

  Adam had actually hoped to poke around in their emails a little bit but couldn’t bring himself to admit it out loud. That was a borderline “Hill” thing to do. “I don’t know. Take a look at their surveys again to see the kind of food they like for tomorrow. Is there anything else that we haven’t checked out yet?”

  “Let’s see. I might have an idea.”

  Adam watched Perk move the cursor around on the screen. He clicked on a few tabs and opened up Mrs. Fenecky’s files.

  “The yearbook docs?” Adam asked.

  “Why not? There could be something in those. Didn’t they do the ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ with all the eighth graders?”

  “No, I think that was last year. I think this year was, ‘If you could be a dessert, what would you be?’”