I smiled evilly as I looked down at the sleeping Dyson, happy that my plan had actually worked. His upper lip read “Place d*ck here” with an arrow pointing down to his mouth. I drew on hot pink eyebrows and a black dot on the side of his nose, making it look like a piercing along with dots on his ears with the same affect. I wrote different things on his arms, making me silently laugh to myself. I covered his hands with whipped cream and his face. I also was nice enough to do his makeup for him with cherry red lipstick and purple eye shadow. To top it off, I added feathery pink bunny ears and snapped a picture before heading off to the music store, this time with the skateboard. Today, I was in pajama pants, a tank top, and lovely froggy slippers. Sure the prank seemed a little cheesy and immature, but I wasn’t a natural prankster and it was funny enough. That's what he gets for pushing me into the stinky fountain.
Luckily, today my head was feeling much better but there was still a soft headache roaming around my skull. There was a small butterfly bandage over top of the cut that I saw in the mirror this morning and around the cut, there was a nasty bump. At least it wasn’t a concussion.
When I got to the music store, I grabbed the familiar guitar and quickly tuned it before starting to play a song that I knew.
“You, got me caught in all this mess. I guess, we can blame it on the rain. My pain is knowing I can’t have you, I can’t have you. Tell me does she look at you the way I do, Try to understand the words you say, and the way you move? Does she get the same big rush, When you go in for a hug and your cheeks brush? Tell me am I crazy, or is this more than a crush?”
I played Blame It On The Rain by He is We. It had nothing to do with my emotions right now, but I love that song. I hit all of the notes and when there was a strong part, my eyes would flick closed as I sang.
“Tell me does she look at you the way I do, Try to understand the words you say, and the way you move? Does she get the same big rush, When you go in for a hug and your cheeks brush? Tell me am I crazy, or is this more than a crush?”
I played the song until the end and then put down the guitar beside me.
“I didn’t know you could play guitar.” I heard Dyson’s voice behind me.
I let out a loud scream and spun around to see Dyson standing in the doorway of the music store with a big smirk on his Sharpied face. I stood up and looked at him with a horrific expression. “I-I don’t.” Was all I could say as my heart pumped loudly in my ears. I couldn't even laugh at his messy, makeup smudged appearance.
He chuckled and took a step into the store. “I just heard you, it was good, I don’t know why you’re so embarrassed.”
“That wasn’t- I didn’t- It didn’t- It’s not-“ My panicking self couldn’t think of anything to say as my face flamed red. The only thing I could do now was run. Luckily, I had the skateboard with me this time.
I grabbed the skateboard from beside me then ran past Dyson, out of the store and down the hall before dropping the skateboard beside me and stepping on it, gliding as fast as I could down the hallway and ignoring Dyson’s calling my name from behind me. I didn’t stop until I was on the other side of the mall and back at the Macy’s. I fell back into my bed and let out an embarrassed scream into my pillow before going into the bathroom and sanitizing myself, thinking of something to explain what Dyson had just seen. I couldn’t come up with anything.
When I came out of the bathroom, Dyson was nowhere to be seen, so I decided to have Cinnabon again this morning, hopefully by myself. Two reasons to avoid Dyson today: He’s out for revenge. He heard me play the guitar. And sing. I'm in deep crap.
Once I got to the Cinnabon, I made my way behind the counter and jumped two feet in the air when I saw that the coffee pot was on, making a pot of coffee.
I paused then silently tiptoed backwards towards the exit. Maybe he won’t notice me if I’m quiet enough. That thought process was killed when Dyson appeared in the doorway of the Cinnabon, closing my escape with a smirk on his face.
“Surprise.” He said evilly.
I ran back behind the counter, trying to create distance between us, but in reality, I just cornered myself in.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Dyson asked innocently, following me behind the counter to where I couldn’t escape.
“Not hungry.” I muttered, looking up at his face, it was pretty funny. The Sharpie marks were still there, but faded, which means that he tried to wash it off. All of the whipped cream was gone and so were the bunny ears but the makeup was still faintly smudged on his face. I tried, but failed, to hold back my laughter at the sight. His hair was also sexily messed up on top of his head.
“What’s so funny?” He huffed.
I shrugged. “N-nothing.”
“If nothing was funny, you wouldn’t have laughed.” He said, taking a step closer to me with one hand behind his back.
He’s going to give me whatever he has planned, so I might as well just say it. “Y-you look so funny.” I squeaked, trying to hide my laughter.
“I wonder who’s fault that is.” He snorted.
“Hey, I was getting you back for throwing me into the fountain. So whatever you do, just know that I’ll have to get you back again. So just don’t do whatever you’re about to do and we can call it even.” I reasoned.
He shrugged with a smug smile then took the last step towards me so that he was only inches away from my face. “I don’t play to get even.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are such a child.”
Instead of answering, he brought the hand up from behind his back and raised it above my head the second before I felt something cold, wet, and sticky smother my hair and slither down my neck and back. I gasped and put my hand up to my head then brought it down to my eyes.
“You cracked an egg on my head?!” I screeched.
He stepped back and winked. “Smell ya later.” And with that, he was running away from the scene and out of the store.
I let out an aggravated sigh and slowly walked back to the Macy’s, planning a revenge plan, once again, while I turned on the sink faucet and tried my best to get the egg out of my hair. An hour later, it was all out and my hair was shampooed. I got dressed in a pink Victoria Secret hoodie and jean shorts before making my way out of the bathroom, now really hungry since I haven’t eaten yet. As for the revenge plan, I came up short. I could have started the whole seduction thing again, but that didn't turn out well last time and I didn't think I wanted to try a second.
When I got back to the beds, Dyson was sitting on his with a burrito in front of him and eating. I noticed two cinnamon rolls on a paper plate on my bed as I walked up.
“You made me breakfast?” I asked slowly, sitting on my bed next to the cinnamon rolls. “What’d you do to them?”
He smiled with a bite of burrito in his mouth, making me look away. “I didn’t do anything to them. Honest.”
I sighed then brought the plate up to my face, sniffing the suspicious cinnamon rolls but all I could smell was the delicious cinnamon and frosting smell, just making me even more hungry.
“If I keel over and die, I will haunt you forever.” I muttered, putting the plate back down and tearing off a steamy strip of the pastry and putting it in my mouth.
Dyson chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s fine.” He paused before continuing. “The police department called while you were in the bathroom.”
I looked up at him excitedly with a huge smile on my face. “Well what’d they say? Is the storm ending?”
“Not exactly.” He said slowly. “They said that the storm is a lot bigger than what they originally thought. It’s going to last at least another week.”
My stomach plummeted. Another week here? “Th-that’s a long time.” I choked.
He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
“Why don’t you seem bothered by this? We’re stuck here for another week!” I shrieked.
“Yeah. We are in the mall. We can do whatever the fuck we want with no supervision. Sorry for not seeing the negative in this. Except for the fact that you’re here.” He muttered.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, whatever.” I mumbled.
He chuckled softly. “How’s your head feeling?”
I shrugged. “It’s fine. Just a little headache.”
I nodded. “If you need aspirin, I put it on the table over there with your other pills.” He nudged his shoulder towards the small white night stand on the other side of the isle from the beds. On top of the night stand, there were two pill bottles. How can he be so aggrivating one second and then sweet and caring the next?! It's so... frustrating!
Wait... did I just call Dyson sweet and caring? No. No, I didn't mean it. He must of drugged the cinnamon rolls or something because I would never say that willingly. Never.
“Okay.” I finally muttered.
“So you skateboard, sing, and play the guitar, huh?”
“No.” I snapped.
“Oh, right. You also play soccer.”
“I don’t play the guitar.” I snapped. “And I don’t sing.”
Dyson laughed. “I heard you playing.”
“Why were you even at the music store?” I asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
“Well yesterday, you mysteriously disappeared in the morning, so-“
“I just went for a run yesterday.” I interrupted.
“Riiight. Anyway, so I decided to follow you this morning and when I woke up, I found you at the music store.”
“It wasn’t me.” I said quickly. It was all I could think of in my panic.
“Why are you so shy? You weren’t bad.”
“I don’t sing.” I said firmly as I finished my first cinnamon roll.
“Stop saying that.” He said with a chuckle.
“It’s true. I don’t sing. I don’t play guitar. I skateboard and I play soccer. That’s it.” I insisted.
He sighed. “Yeah, alright. So what are we going to do today?”
I shrugged. “Day three. What do you want to do?”
Dyson smirked. “Let’s have sex.”
I rolled my eyes. “Classy, Dyson. And not blunt at atll.” I muttered sarcastically.
“Well do you have any better ideas?” He asked.
“Yeah, I do. Like gag myself with a switch blade.”
“See what I mean? Prude.”
“I’m not prude!” I squealed. “Just because I’m not a whore doesn’t mean that I’m prude.”
“Let’s play hide and go seek.” Dyson said with a childish grin.
“How do you go from sex to hide and go seek?” I asked with raised eyebrows.
He shrugged. “How ‘bout it?”
“That’s so childish.” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Says the girl that slept with a Pillow Pet last night? C’mon, it’ll be fun.” He said, standing to his feet. “And then you can make lunch.”
Don't do it, Tyler. Don't agree to it. Just read a book or something. Yeah, let's just read a book today. I never did finish the Hunger Games series. “So what’s the bet?” And my mouth is a traitor. I guess Katniss is going to have to wait a while longer.
“What bet?” He asked innocently.
“There’s always a bet with you.”
He smiled smugly. “Okay, how about, if I find you within five minutes, you’re doing something with me tonight.” I gave him a look of disbelief and when he could see my shock, he rolled his eyes. “Relax, Miss. Prude. Not what you think.”
“What is it?”
“I can’t tell you or you’ll say no.”
“I’ll say no anyway!” I shrieked.
“Chicken.” He declared.
“Dyson. Stop being so immature.”
“Stop being such a chicken.” He said with a smug smile.
I huffed. “Fine. And if you don’t find me?”
“I’ll tell you what you said that night after you kissed me.” He said confidently.
I stopped and thought about it. It has really been killing me lately so I just nodded. “Deal. I get three minutes to hide.” I said, standing up.
Dyson nodded. He took my walky talkie and pushed a few buttons then handed it back to me, I looked at it and it had an eight minute timer on it. Three for me to run, five for him to find me, and then he handed me the ring of keys. “Time starts now.” And with that, I took off out the door, my mind bouncing with ideas of where to go. I just knew that I had to get as far away from the Macy’s as possible. I kept going through the different stores in the mall. Victoria Secret, FYE, Hallmark, Starbucks, GAP… Justice! That little girl store, it’s perfect! Dyson would never go in there! I turned the corner and passed the sports store before passing a few other locked stores. I quickly unlocked the Justice store’s gate and slid inside before shutting the gate again.
When the gate slid back down, it stopped about two inches before it was supposed to. I pushed down harder but the gate wouldn’t budge. Crap, it’s been three minutes. He should be on his way any minute.
“Oh, come on.” I whispered to myself as I jiggled the gate, trying to get it back into place. I lifted it up and then slammed it back down, hoping that the force would shut it, but no luck. I jumped when I heard Dyson’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “Shit, shit , shit.” I cursed, trying to get the gate to shut all the way.
When I decided that his footsteps were too loud for comfort, I left the gate how it was, two inches above the other gates and hurried into the back of the store, hoping to get into the back of the store that led to the store next door and I could hide in there. It would totally throw Dyson off. But to my luck, the door that led to the back was locked. His footsteps were growing louder and louder as my panic grew stronger and stronger. My last attempt at safety was the dressing rooms. I raced from behind the glass display counter to the dressing rooms and slid open the fuzzy pink curtain then stepped inside. It was small with a full length mirror on one of the walls and hooks on the other with a small lime green stool in the corner.
I shut the curtain and sat on the stool, bringing my knees up under my chin so that my feet weren’t visible and held my breath, listening to his footsteps and trying to recognize where he was in the hallway.
I quietly sighed in relief when I heard his footsteps growing quieter as he continued down the hallway, away from me. I covered my mouth with a shaky hand so that my breathing would be silent as my heart rate slowed back down as his footsteps became quieter and quieter. I leaned my head against the wall behind me and let my breath catch up with me while I checked the timer on the walky talkie: Three more minutes.
Okay, Tyler. You can do this. Just stay quiet. I told myself.
I sat in the corner of the tween dressing room and watched the walky talkie dwindle down. Only a minute more between me and victory.
I jumped when I heard his footsteps again, but this time quicker and becoming louder at a rapid rate. “Crap, crap, crap.” He ranted in a panic, realizing that his time was shrinking with every second.
I smiled proudly to myself, forty more seconds.
His rambling stopped in the hallway and I listened closer to why he stopped panicking.
Instead of Dyson panicking, my panic started to set in when I heard the metal gate slide open. Stupid gate! I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep silent. C’mon, just twenty more seconds.
He quickly walked around the store and I could see his shadow as he hurried through the short shelves and then behind the counter. I crossed my fingers and kept my hand over my mouth. Not. A. Sound.
10… 9… 8…
My heart stopped when he made his way over to the dressing rooms. Shit, shit, shit.
He opened the first one out of four and I was on the edge. I can do this.
7…6…5…
He tore open the next one and then the next one. No, no, no.
4… 3… 2…
And then the curtain swung open and I looked up to Dyson’s proud smirk. Busted.
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