I had a friend betray me once.
Well, he was not a friend but more of an annoying acquaintance. The kind of annoying acquaintance that has to be the teacher's pet and follow all of the rules of authority. A real bore if you ask me.
His name? Paxton Reese Copeland.
I have no idea where his parents had messed up, but they knew they had messed up not long after he was born. Why else would they have felt the need to make him a middle child?
His brother, Nash, is the type to break practically every rule in the rule book and smooth talk his way out. Rae Lynn, his sister, is the baby of the family. I have witnessed first hand just how fierce she can be with standing her ground. Both are completely opposite of Paxton.
How was I betrayed by Paxton Reese Copeland?
He wrote a whole letter to our principal snitching on me for stealing the bucket of dry ice from the chemistry lab. I really wanted to see how the dry ice would react when placed in water, but Paxton just would not budge. Out of all the reasons I gave him for scientific discovery, he decided to not be a doormat for a change.
So, naturally, I have to get rid of the evidence as soon as possible. And what better way to get rid of the evidence than at eleven o'clock on a school night?
"Risse, I swear to Mother Nature, I am going to dunk your socks and shoes in the pool." Georgia, my equivalent to Paxton, hisses into my ear.
"You were supposed to stay in the car," I hiss right back.
Our game plan was that I break into the school and Georgia waits two blocks away in the getaway car. Noah, our not so little brother, was supposed to be keeping lookout for any signs of the cops. I have picked many locks before and picking the lock on Paxton's locker is a piece of cake.
Sure, I know Paxton's locker combination by heart, all thanks to Nash, but I might as well have a little fun tonight. At least, I was having fun up until Georgia decided to abandon our original plan.
"I can't just stay in the car when my older sister is being an idiot and dragging our little brother into her mess!" The passive aggressive anxiousness in her voice is slowly starting to get on my nerves.
I could have had this locker opened ten minutes ago, but Georgia has yet to shut her trap.
"Shut up, Georgie," pausing with the bobby-pin in the lock, I turn my head to the side to stare directly at her.
I want her to see just how annoyed I am by her persistent pestering. "We could have been home safe and sound eons ago, had you just stuck with the plan. Now you won't shut up, and it's preventing me from getting in and out in a timely manner!"
Looking a bit taken aback by my sudden outburst, Georgia opens her mouth and shuts it closed again. All she can manage is a disappointed shake of her head and turns to finally leave me in peace.
I turn my attention back to the locker and start to jiggle the bobby-pin around. The sound of the locker clicking and slowly creaking open sets off my excitement. I cannot believe this is actually going to go my way! Nothing can stop Clarisse Eleanor Messer from getting rid of evidence not even...
"Drop the bucket and put your hands in the air where I can see them!" An authoritative voice booms from behind me.
Yeah, dropping this bucket is the last action an intellectual person would want to take. Not that I claim to be one of those people; I barely get by with a C average each grading period.
"Didn't you just hear me? Drop the bucket and put your hands up in the air where I can see them!" he orders again.
Setting the bucket down in Copeland's locker is the only option I have. Funny how that worked out in my favor.
Quickly opening the locker a little bit more, I slip the bucket inside and hold my hands up in the air.
"Good," he satisfactorily states. "Stay put."
His heavy footsteps come closer to me, and I feel his presence directly behind me. I have no time to react, before he grabs both of my hands together and swiftly spins me around to face him: pinning both of my hands up above my head against the cold steel of the locker.
I should have known the "authority figure" had a familiar voice, but I rarely hear Nash's serious voice.
Out of instinct, I narrow my dark brown eyes at him. "Pull a stunt like that one more time and see how fast Rae Lynn becomes an only child."
He leans in closer with an amused smile on his face. "You know you would miss having me around, Messer. Who else would be getting you into college parties without any questions being asked?"
"Me, myself, and I." I quip.
"Uh huh," his fingers tighten around my hands and the amused smile is replaced with a sly smirk. "How come you always ask to tag along?"
It was my turn to smirk at his words. If I had really wanted to, I could have broken free from his grasp as soon as he had grabbed my hands. Instead, I chose to be a willing prisoner under his touch.
"Someone has to make sure you come home in one piece," I nonchalantly state.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Messer." Nash releases my hands and takes a step back.
Our eyes stay locked on each other and break when the sound of sirens can be heard about two blocks away. Nash's eyes move to the bucket sitting behind me. As if out of natural instinct, Nash nudges me out of the way and shuts the locker.
He grabs my right hand and we both make a dash for the auditorium. The door backstage leads out to the open football field. Neither of those areas are lit up so anyone can blend into the dark night with dark attire. The amount of scandals amongst the theatre tech students is way more than the scandals amongst the football players and cheerleaders.
There always seems to be tech crew missing from the theatre productions. Always running off into the night to go vape, drink or hook up somewhere outside. I guess when you get kicked out of the sound booth for adding sound effects into Mary Poppins, you have to settle for the next option.
We ran in silence to the edge of the woods where we could safely walk the rest of the way home.
"You know you are going to get into serious trouble, right?" Nash asks without looking at me.
I stare straight ahead at the baseball dugouts a few feet away. The thought of being busted for my crime never crossed my mind since I thought I had covered all my bases. Of all people to point out this major flaw, Nash Copeland had to be the one. Then again...
"My dear Nashy, public school security cameras are absolute garbage. Their quality might as well have been checked by Walmart, because you know H-E-B would have made sure they were 4K."
"Hey! Don't you dare disrespect my favorite store!" Nash snaps in faux outrage before mumbling to himself. "Where else am I supposed to find cheap food in this economy?"
I could list a number of places a person can get food at a reasonable price. I mean, if there is one useful piece of information I have learned about this wonderful state, it would be that there are plenty of regions that offer farming.
What kind of crops can be farmed in any of those regions is beyond me. I conveniently had to take a restroom break during those presentation slides.
"Why were you in the area?" The Copeland residence is nowhere close to Judson High School and neither is The University of Texas at San Antonio where Nash is supposed to be residing.
"I just thought I would stop by and say hello to my favorite high school senior. Thought that my face would be a friendly reminder that graduating is better than a jail cell." He glances over at me with that protective older brother look.
You know, that look that is disapproving but gives you the confidence that mom and dad will never find out about your recent adventures. Not that my parents care that much about what I do. My mother is currently stationed overseas and Dad is always working the night shift at the hospital.
"You could have just said that Georgia snitched and you would miss your personal wing woman. Even Greyson Anders can't get you a lady."
Nash waves off my comment about his buddy but doesn't bother to refute any of my claims. Instead, Nash decides to go right in for the kill of my ego.
"The ladies only come my way because they find it charming a guy like myself would try to protect them from the stinky high schooler."
Stinky high schooler? Is that what he really thinks I am?
Even though I generally don't care what other people have to say, I subtly lift my arm up to my nose and take a quick whiff. Nope, he must be smelling the decomposition of his popularity status.
The remainder of our walk is done in pure silence. Neither tense nor peaceful, just there existing.
If only I had taken advantage of that silence when I had the chance, but hindsight is always there to kick you right in the shin.