She shrugged. “Sure. Maybe.”
FOR AN EARLY dinner before science fair, Dad heated up some leftover lasagna.
“You look nice, Soren,” said Mom. “Very unusual.”
“SOREN GROOM!” chimed in Ivan. He had a coloring book about royal weddings, and he thought wearing a tie meant you were getting married.
“Never,” I told him.
“Aren’t you excited to present your project?” said Mom.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t sound very excited. Nervous?”
“I guess so,” I said. Bothered was more like it. Preoccupied. What was going on with Alex and the triplets and the paper dolls?
Flynn came downstairs. He was wearing blood-red dress pants, a shiny gray shirt, and a silver bow tie. “Wow,” said Mom. “Very, um, different.”
“Thanks!” said Flynn.
“DODGE, SOREN!” yelled Dad.
Fortunately, I have the self-protective instincts of a gazelle on the savanna. I ducked, and a clump of lasagna sailed over my head. Ivan chortled. “I’ll run you guys over to school,” said Mom, glancing between Ivan and my crisp white shirt.
“I’ll come early too,” said Ruth, pulling on her backpack.
“The audience doesn’t need to be there for another hour,” Mom said. “You don’t want to stay here with Dad and Ivan?”
“Nah,” said Ruth. “I’ll be a sixth grader someday. I want to watch them set up so I can start thinking about my own project.”
Dad stood and applauded. “What forethought!” he cried. “What a stand against procrastination! I hope you’re taking notes, Soren.”
Ruth was a bigger procrastinator than anyone. Unless Dad made her, she never started projects until the night before. She didn’t even think about Christmas presents until December 24. Sometimes stores were already closed and she had to wrap stuff from her junk drawer.
She was up to something.
“Ready?” said Mom.
“Ready,” said Ruth and Flynn.
“Yeah,” I said, “I’m ready too.”
* * *
—
“I FORGOT ALEX WAS VISITING!” said Mom in the school lobby. “Did you see her at school today?”
“Yep.” She was with the triplets again. I waved, but they didn’t see me.
“I wonder how long they’re staying,” said Mom. “We should have her and her mom over for dinner. And the Andrezejczaks, too.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Let’s go set up,” Flynn told me.
“Yeah,” I said, not taking my eyes off Alex and the triplets. Ruth had joined them. They were in a tight circle. All you could see was ponytails and backpacks.
Okay. It was official. They were definitely up to something.
“Come on, Soren,” said Flynn. “We have to get everything ready before the judges arrive.”
We set up our board and fish tank in the zoology section of the gym. The triplets came in to set up their projects. Alex and Ruth followed. I kept an eye on them. Over in chemistry, Ms. Hutchins was yelling at Freddy, who was sheepishly rubbing a towel over a large puddle of what smelled like gasoline. In psychology, Lila and Jéro were fighting over the angle of their board. “Come check out our ballista,” Tabitha called to me from engineering. It was ten feet long.
“In a sec,” I said.
“It works so well that Chloe’s dad wants to buy it off us for deer season,” said Billiam.
I’d lost track of Alex and Ruth. Ms. Hutchins opened the doors, and the parents and siblings and judges streamed in. “I’ll be right back,” I said to Flynn.
“You can’t leave!” he said. “Our first judge is coming!”
“But—I’m worried—”
“Focus!” hissed Flynn. “Here she is!”
I straightened my tie. Dr. Adams approached. She’s been my pediatrician all my life. “Why, hello, Soren,” she said in the exact tone she uses when I’m naked and wrapped in paper on the exam table. “And you are…”
“Flynn. Flynn Skaar. I’m Soren’s cousin.”
“It’s a pleasure. Now, tell me about your experiment.”
We hadn’t practiced, but it went well. “Would you do anything differently,” said Dr. Adams, “if you were doing this experiment again?”
“I’d love to have more cockroaches!” I said. Flynn jabbed me. “Ouch—what? I like cockroaches. They make great pets. And the more the merrier, right?”
Dr. Adams made some marks on her clipboard. When she left, Flynn said, “Did you have to mention the biggest problem with our experiment?”
“What do you mean?”
“The fact that we only had two cockroaches. Sample sets of one. It’s a huge flaw. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice.”
“Oh.”
“So when our other judge comes, how about you don’t point that out?”
Parents were milling around the gym. Judges were peering at clipboards. Kids in ties and dresses were gesturing at graphs. Some kids.
Some kids, it seemed, were missing.
“I have to check on something,” I said.
“You still can’t leave!”
“I’ll be back in five seconds.” Before he could protest more, I wove through the crowd to psychology. “Jéro!” I said. “Where’s Lila?”
“I don’t know. Bathroom, maybe? It’s awesome. She told me I wasn’t allowed to speak when the judges came around, but hey, she wasn’t here, so—”
I was gone, ducking and dodging my way to earth science. “Tori!” I said. She and Olivia had done something about the hardness of rocks. “Do you know where Olivia went?”
Tori rolled her eyes. “She had to nervous-pee. If you’d ever been in a play with her, you’d remember that every time—”
I sprinted off. Engineering was my last stop. If Tabitha wasn’t there, I’d know.
“Billiam!” I panted. “Where’s Tabitha?”
He gave me a slow look. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just tell me!”
Billiam can be kind of a jerk. If you want something fast, he takes his time. Finally, he said, “I don’t know.”
“Thanks, so helpful—”
“She went out that door. A while ago now. Fifteen minutes, maybe.”
AHHH! Fifteen minutes? You could do a lot in fifteen minutes. “Okay. Thanks.”
I ran back to zoology, getting a lot of dirty looks from parents and judges along the way. “Flynn,” I said, “I’ve got to step out.”
“But we have another judge coming any minute now!”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“You’re leaving me to defend our project alone?”
“I know. I’m really sorry. But it’s an emergency.”
Images flashed through my head: Ruth on the video chat with Alex. Ruth following the triplets up their driveway after school. The five of them hunched together, the murmurs, the backpacks…
Flynn’s eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to prank science fair, aren’t you?”
“No!”
“I’m supposed to believe that?”
“Flynn.” I stared into his eyes. “Please. I know you don’t trust me—but please. Believe me. Give me a chance. I’m not trying to prank science fair. I’m trying to save science fair.”
He looked at me for a long, excruciating moment. “Fine. Go.”
“Wait. What? You really—”
“Go. I don’t know why I trust you, but I do. I’ll cover for you. Go.”
I HAD A detailed digestive excuse all ready, but no teacher intercepted me as I dashed out of the gym and into the empty corridors of the school.
Where had those girls gone?
I rattled the doorknobs of the kindergarten rooms. Locked, all locked. I tu
rned down the next hallway, tried the first-grade doors…
Think, Soren.
I leaned against a first-grade bulletin board (HOW DID WE CHOOSE KIND TODAY?). I took deep breaths and thought.
They would have already planned the prank. The video chats, the after-school meetings, the huddles today—the planning stage was over. So if they’d all snuck out together, it was because they needed a launchpad. They needed a place to prepare supplies before their massive prank.
A private place, but a place they could get into.
I started running again. I skidded to a halt outside the tiled entrance to the two bathrooms.
The boys’ was empty. Of course. I shouldn’t have wasted time checking.
I paused outside the girls’. Did I dare? I’d never gone into a girls’ bathroom, and I had hoped I never would.
I set a foot inside, and then I pulled it out. I couldn’t do it. “Hello?” I called. “Is anyone in there?”
Goldie’s mom popped out, shaking wet hands in the air. “Soren! May I help you? Did you want paper towels for the boys’ room? Because they’re out in the girls’, too….”
“Um,” I said, “actually, I was looking for, um, my sister? My mom told me to find her because they need to go home early—she just got a phone call with, uh, test results, and Ruth is very ill, strep throat, I think, and it’s so contagious that she needs to be quarantined immediately—”
“Oh!” said Mrs. Grandin, taken aback. Darn. As usual, I’d tried to lie and ended up babbling. “Goodness gracious. I didn’t think anyone was in there, but let me take a look.”
I waited. She came out. “Looked under all the stalls,” she reported, “and it’s empty as a bird’s nest in winter!”
“Okay, thanks, bye!” I took off down the hall.
“Give your sister my best wishes for a speedy recovery!” she called after me. “I’ll be sure to spread the word about the strep outbreak!”
Great.
I took the stairs, swinging on the banister to make the turn. On the first floor, I’d been able to hear faint noise from the gym, but the second floor was eerily quiet. I grabbed a few doorknobs just to make sure, but the classrooms were locked up here, too. If they weren’t in the second-floor bathrooms, I didn’t know where they’d be. I doubted I’d be able to find them in time to stop whatever they were planning to do.
I slowed as I approached the bathrooms. There was a yellow plastic sign propped on the floor: RESTROOMS CLOSED FOR CLEANING.
Hmm.
I tiptoed into the boys’ room. It was clear, as I’d expected.
I hovered outside the girls’ room.
There was definitely water running. It could be a janitor.
But then I heard a familiar sound. A very familiar sound. A giggle I’d been hearing for over nine years now.
I burst in.
“The girls’ bathroom has a mirror?” I said.
And the five girls who were gathered around the sinks, who were pulling water balloons onto the faucets, and tying them, and throwing them into a tall, deep laundry hamper, which was almost full of colorful blobs—they all jumped. They shouted, “SOREN!”
“THIS IS THE GIRLS’ BATHROOM,” said Ruth. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”
“Didn’t you see the sign?” said Lila. “This restroom is closed for cleaning.”
“Oh, you’re cleaning?” I said.
“How did you find us?” said Tabitha.
I shrugged. “I knew something was up. You didn’t cover your tracks very well.”
That got to Alex, I could tell. She finished the knot on her balloon with a sharp snap. “We weren’t trying to hide our tracks from you.”
“You sure were secretive, then.”
“You retired. We weren’t about to blab all the details to someone who’d retired.”
It kind of made sense. But then I saw Alex worrying the earpiece of her glasses. She was lying. I babble; she plays with her glasses. It’s like the sunrise. Couldn’t stop it if you tried.
“Oh,” I said, realizing what was going on. “You’re still mad at me.”
“Maybe I am,” said Alex. “So?”
“So you left me out.”
“Now you know what it feels like,” said Ruth.
“No offense, Soren, but you wanted to be left out,” said Tabitha. “You literally told us you were done with pranks.”
But being left out stinks. Even when you’ve chosen it.
“Let’s keep going,” said Alex, checking her phone. “We only have ten minutes to finish filling these balloons. We’ve got to get the laundry hamper to the catwalk before the awards presentation starts.”
“What about him?” asked Lila.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said.
“At this point, he’ll just have to help,” said Alex. “Congratulations. We’re un-leaving you out.”
“No, I—”
“Here’s the plan. You know that catwalk above the stage? The door’s only a few yards down from this bathroom.” She jingled something in her pocket. “And I got the key.”
“How?” I said.
“That’s classified. Anyway. We fill the rest of these balloons. Then we all pull this huge hamper to the catwalk. It’s going to be really heavy. Then you and the triplets go back to science fair. Ruth stands lookout, and I’ll be on the catwalk by myself. The instant Ms. Hutchins starts the awards, wahoo! Look out below!”
“But everyone’ll know where the balloons are coming from,” I said. “You’ll get caught so fast.”
“I can throw a lot of water balloons in the time it takes Principal Leary to get up a flight of stairs.”
“You’ll get in so much trouble.”
“What are they going to do?” said Alex. “Expel me?”
In the past, we’d always had one major constraint: we couldn’t get caught. Suspicion and detentions, fine. Evidence and suspensions, no thanks.
But now…
“Leary’ll tell your mom,” I said.
“And I’ll tell her it’s her fault,” said Alex. “If she hadn’t made us move, I’d still be doing nice, normal pranks with you.”
She had a point.
“Now let’s get a move on with these water balloons.”
“It’s going to be out of control,” I said. Hundreds of bright bulbs hurtling down from nowhere, like God had given up on locusts and decided to send a plague of water balloons instead. “It’ll be chaos.”
“It’ll be amazing,” said Alex. “Probably our best prank ever.” She checked her phone again. “Enough talking. Soren, can you tie? Our fingers hurt.”
I took up position next to Tabitha’s sink. I tied a balloon.
This wasn’t what I’d intended.
But the prank was simple. It was glorious. I was a lifelong prankster, and this was the prank of a lifetime. Saying no to this prank would be like an ice cream connoisseur saying no to the best ice cream in the world just because he was full from dinner. And water balloons were harmless. I’d tell Alex to take aim far from the science-fair projects so none of the boards would be ruined. People would get wet, sure, but people can dry.
This was the true Dream Team. This was my chance to prank with Alex and the triplets and Ruth, the five most devilishly clever people I knew. Besides, I wouldn’t get in trouble. I’d return to the gym, and when Flynn said, “Did you save us?” I’d say, “I hope so. I tried. I did my best.” And if something happened anyway, well, I’d be as shocked and angry as he was.
I tied another balloon and tossed it into the hamper. It landed with a wet plop. I wiped my hands on my dress pants. “I can’t do this,” I said.
“Tying water balloons is hard,” said Olivia sympathetically.
“No. This. I can’t do this prank.” I thought of Flynn
saying he trusted me. I thought of Dad telling me he believed in me, how he thought I could figure it out, this pranking thing, and I thought of Mom telling me to act like the person I wanted to be. “It’s not fair,” I said. “It’s not fair to ruin science fair for everyone.”
“Nobody’ll get hurt,” said Tabitha. “They’ll just get wet.”
Sometimes, wet was bad enough. “You guys don’t know what it’s like,” I said. The spelling bee had been my fault, and I’d learned my lesson. “You don’t know how guilty and awful you’ll feel. I’m telling you, it’s not worth it—”
“Leave,” said Alex.
She stared me down. She’d left a water balloon attached to a spigot, and it bobbled around in the sink as it filled.
“Leave now,” she said. “You were never here. You didn’t see a thing.”
“I can’t let you do this prank,” I said.
“You think you can stop us?”
I stood in front of the hamper and crossed my arms. “I’m going to try.”
“No, you’re not,” said Alex. “You wouldn’t do that to me. Because I’ve been waiting for this day for months, Soren. This is the only happy thing in my life right now. Moving ruined everything—”
“That’s not even true!” I said. “That’s just what you keep telling yourself! Alex, you like Minneapolis! You like paper dolls! You like Ol’ Bu—you like Sophia!”
Alex’s fists clenched. I made sure I’d squarely blocked the hamper. “Don’t try to tell me the move was a good thing.”
“I’m not! But it wasn’t a bad thing, either. Some parts are bad, yeah—I miss pranking with you, Alex—I miss you, I really do—but some parts are good. You wouldn’t be friends with Sophia if you hadn’t moved. You wouldn’t be friends with the triplets.”
“You wouldn’t even be talking to me,” pointed out Ruth.
“I can’t believe you’re happy I moved,” said Alex.
I opened my mouth to protest, but she lunged forward and shoved me. I fell back—
—butt-first—
—right into the deep laundry hamper.
“AHHH!”
Here Comes Trouble Page 20
