Dirty Deeds

Skater Boi

"He's just a boy / And I'm just a girl / Can I make it any more obvious? / We are in love / Haven't you heard / How we rock each other's world"

—Skater Boi, Avril Lavigne

If there's one thing I can say about Scuz, the man delivers. Sunday morning, when I found myself back at Java the Cup, working on homework while sipping a cappuccino, I was approached by a very well-dressed man somewhere in his early 50s. His grey suit was perfectly tailored, with a crisp white shirt underneath. Silver cufflinks that twinkled like stars held the look together. He introduced himself as Mr. Ruben Julius. Then he handed me a lovely green velvet box with a gold latch and a hand-written note on card stock taped to the top.

Better than new, cuz.

— Scuz

Though I'd told Calvin to meet at headquarters—the massive treehouse Keith put together in our yard, if you can call it a yard. It's an enormous space with a garden, a pool and a deck. The stone path that weaves in and out of the yard leads to the back fence, lined with massive sycamore trees that hide it. The trees reach high, providing the perfect shade on hot summer days. After my mom and Keith married, he commissioned a treehouse for me and Aidan, saying it was meant to be our own space.

I absolutely hated it. What was I, five years old? It was only when Riley, back when we were friends, pointed out that it was the perfect place to get drunk away from the 'rents I started to see its use. In those days, we'd hang out drinking bottles of WKD and Smirnoff Ice purchased by someone's older brother or downing whatever booze we could sneak out of our parent's liquor cabinets. Mom was so busy with Keith and the twins that she never realized what we were up to.

Now, I use it to meet with Calvin and to hide from the twins, though they try desperately to climb in at every opportunity.

After Mr. Julius dropped off the package, I waited around, finishing my drink. And yeah, okay, maybe I was waiting to see if the cute barista, Cole, was working again. I wrapped things up after half an hour and 10 texts from Calvin.

I don't know how Scuz knows Mr. Julius, and quite frankly, I don't want to, but the man is a miracle worker. The egg looked perfect. No one would know it had ever had a date with the floor.

So when Monday morning came, I entered school with a considerable amount of pep in my step. I'd managed to rock the Benjamins by taking out Dylan, and I walked away with a crazy payday all because Madison Parker has more dollars than sense.

Since my first class was a spare, I managed to make it to my locker without running into any of the Benjamins (another score), yet as I grabbed the books for my morning classes, I couldn't help but notice a strange feeling in the hallways—the school was buzzing. Kids ran back and forth between lockers, whispering excitedly when the bell rang to signal the end of first period. Maybe there was news about Homecoming. With just a week to go, the daily announcements are a constant stream of updates about the big, dumb dance.

As I have the misfortune of being only three lockers down from Madison, I knew my lucky streak would come to an end imminently. As soon as I started to pull books from my locker, Taylor and Cherry Vasceccio, a second-tier Benjamin and Taylor's latest lackey, descend on Madison.

"Did you hear the news?"

"About Dylan? Oh my God, Taylor, that was so last week." Madison says, rolling her eyes. The two of them are more frenemy than friends. I don't think Madison ever forgave Taylor for stealing Dylan from her last summer. She's probably full of glee at his downfall.

"Dylan, who?" Taylor says, returning the eye roll. Honestly, not to sound like my mother here, but if they keep this up, there's a strong chance their eyes will get stuck like that.