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Education
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PHASE THREE
Weston tilts his head back in laughter as I tell him the predicament that has fallen in my lap due to Chris. “You have GOT to be kidding! Chris, you are a genius!”
I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s not funny, Weston.”
“You’re right, it’s not. It’s hilarious.” Weston laughs harder. “You and Jackson paired up on a project for two weeks? The opportunity to trash Jackson’s education has been sitting in front of us the whole time, but it took Chris to pull it through. This couldn’t be more perfect.”
Chris ignores Weston. “Look, Addelyn, I really am sorry. But Margaret had already changed the grades back before I could get a hard copy. I figured that the only way that I could get proof of Jackson failing is if you are paired up with him and the both of you fail. That way, if Margaret changed Jackson’s grade, there’d be proof that she is lying because you would’ve failed and that would mean Jackson should’ve failed too, since the two of you were working together. But I can understand if you don’t want to go through with it.”
“Oh, she is so going through with it.” Weston says. “There’s no way she’s passing up on this one.”
I stare at him. “After all I’ve been through with Jackson, the last thing I’d want is to be paired up with him for two weeks working on a project outside of school. Do you know of some of the horrors that can happen?”
“I know all too well. That’s why you need to go through with it.” Weston says.
“Is this just some big joke to you or something?” I ask.
Weston shakes his head. “You don’t see it, do you? God, Addelyn you are so blind! Think about it. Having Jackson in your house for two weeks. It’s the perfect time for you to get your revenge. Yesterday, Jocelyn was talking about how lackluster our plan was. With this, now we can spice it up a bit.”
I frown. “Explain.”
“You make sure Jackson gets to your house to study. We set up a few pranks beforehand, make sure he falls for all of them, and next thing you know, you have your satisfaction, and Jackson will get a little taste of all that’s coming to him. I mean, come on, Addelyn. This is your chance.”
He makes a good case. Nothing would be sweeter than hearing Jackson cry out in pain. Plus, I guess I need a little something to relax me. I’ve been so enwrapped in planning, I really haven’t had much time to see good out of all my hard work. Weston’s right. This is my chance.
“What do you have in mind?” I ask, intrigued.
Weston pulls his car keys out of his pocket, smirking at me. “Come with me and you’ll find out.”
***
One hour later and the group of us are standing outside my house. I pull my phone out of my pocket to make sure I texted Jackson the right time to come over. Five o’clock. That leaves enough time to get done what we need to get done before he comes. Weston stopped at the store on the way home, afterschool, getting a wrench, two bottles of Listerine, a box of habanero peppers, and a lot of plastic wrap. Jocelyn and Chris show up as well, with another friend.
Jocelyn grins as she pulls the Rottweiler out of the backseat of her car. She holds the leash tightly as she pulls the dog towards Weston and me. “This is Brutus. Our neighbors have me babysitting him for a few weeks while they go on their anniversary. I figure he might be very helpful for today.”
The dog growls loudly at me. Jocelyn tugs on the leash. “Cease!”
With that the dog calmly lies on the ground. “He’s trained?” I ask.
“Of course. Our neighbors trained him as an attack dog, but he switches back and forth from mean to friendly on command. Just say ‘Cease’ and he should calm down pretty quickly. Otherwise, he might attempt to bite your leg off.”
“How comforting.” Weston says.
Jocelyn passes Chris the leash as she goes to back inside the car. She comes out with a bag of materials. “This is Brutus’s blanket, food, and poop bags.”
I frown at the bags. “They are the size of Wal-Mart grocery bags.”
“Brutus is a big dog. Henceforth he makes giant-sized crap.” She passes the bag of dog materials to me. “With Brutus, I’m sure that this plan will go off without a hitch. Just one thing though. The blanket that’s in this bag is very special to him. He doesn’t like anyone touch it. So once you take it out, it’s best that you just throw it on the ground and allow him to do what he wants with it.”
“Can that dog pee on command?” Weston asks.
Jocelyn shakes her head. “No, but he did drink about a gallon of water before coming here, so I’m pretty sure he should be squirting any moment now. Why do you ask?”
Weston takes one of the Listerine bottles out, and pours out the liquid. “Because I just got a very, very, good idea.”
Two hours later, and everything is perfect. The house it set up, Brutus is running around loose in the yard, and Weston and the gang are packing up to leave. Jocelyn and Chris go first, but Weston stops. “You ready for this?” He asks.
I take a look at the growling Rottweiler digging a hole on the side of the house. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
He chuckles before heading over to his truck. “Hey. Have fun.”
I smile at him. “You too.”
And with that, I watch him back out of the driveway. I sit out on the front steps for a little while, watching the cars go by. A few months ago and the idea of Jackson coming over to my house would’ve thrilled me. Nothing would’ve gotten in the way of it. And now, only dread fills me, mixed with a bit of excitement. Excitement not over the fact that he’s coming, but more so, what’ll happen when he comes.
Eventually, Jackson’s Escalade pulls up into the driveway with all its glory. I slyly move my hand behind the bushes, pressing the little red button near the steps. Jackson doesn’t even glance at me as he jumps out the car, but just keeps his eyes fixed on his cell phone as he walks on the tile pathway to the front door.
Three…
Two…
One…
The sprinklers shoot on, spraying Jackson down with a cold wet mist. In shock, Jackson jumps up, slipping and falling on the now slick tile below his feet. I try not to laugh too loud. “Oh my god, Jackson! Are you okay?”
It takes him a few minutes to answer. “Okay? I almost broke my spine!”
What a blessing that would’ve been. “Oh dear. Do you need some help?”
He pulls himself off the ground, still getting sprayed. “Just bring me a towel.” He starts shaking out his hair.
I act urgent, jumping up from my spot on the stairs, and walking inside. Little does he know that I already have his ‘towel’ waiting by the door. I count out seven seconds, before I go back outside to bring him the towel. He glares at me, as his walks up to dryer land, before snatching the towel out my hand. “I could sue you for that.”
“Gee, Jackson. I’m so sorry. I guess the sprinklers just have a mind of their own.” I force a frown on my face as he starts to wipe himself off with the ‘towel’. Only a few seconds later and he wiggles his nose. He sniffs the towel in his hands before jerking back in disgust.
“This thing stinks! What’d you do? Wipe your body down with this or something?”
I ignore the rude comment, widening my eyes in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry. I think I gave you the wrong thing. That’s Brutus’s blanket.”
“Brutus?” Jackson frowns. “Who’s Brutus?”
Right at that moment, the Rottweiler storms around the side of the house, growling loudly at Jackson. Drool drips from his mouth as he starts to bark loudly. This dog means business by the way he’s staring at Jackson. Jackson starts backing up, fear written all over his face. The dog slowly starts to follow him. Then Brutus charges at him, causing Jackson to just about trip over his own feet trying to run. Brutus is right on his ankles, and Jackson starts screaming like a woman once the dog snaps at him, just barely missing the skin. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jackson run so fast.
“Get it away! Get it away!” Jackson screams louder, whipping the blanket at the dog.
Bad idea.
Brutus now starts running even faster, and Jackson’s feet just can’t keep up with his panicked pace. Jackson yells out as he falls face first in the grass, sliding a few inches further in the grass. The dog is nipping at the hem of his jeans, and Jackson’s face is so pale, I fear he might have a heart attack.
Not that that’d be a bad thing.
“Cease!” I yell, and the dog quickly and obediently lies down on the ground. Jackson is practically shivering in fear. I run over, pretending to care. “Oh goodness, I must’ve forgot to tie him up. I’m sorry.”
“Addelyn, you know there’s nothing I hate more than dogs.” He says. Of course I know that. Why else would I have one?
“I guess I forgot. It’s been so long since we’ve last talked. Again, I’m really sorry.” I play the innocent role. He seems to fall for it.
“Whatever. Let’s just get inside before that beast starts to act up again.” Jackson follows me inside before kicking off his shoes by the front door. I lead him to the kitchen table where we’ll be working. The last time we were in here together, we were making tacos. As friends. Or at least the friend he made himself out to be.
Jackson sits down at the table first, smiling up at me. “No water bra on today?”
I freeze at the totally uncalled for statement. I had quite the words for him, but I held my tongue. “Want something to drink?”
“Will it come from your bra?”
“Orange juice it is then.” I grip the door handle of the fridge until my knuckles turn white. I bend down, going for the specific dark blue cup I had waiting beneath the sink. I hold it away from nose, so I won’t make Jackson suspicious, before pouring the orange juice into it, and passing it to him.
He takes a large gulp, and I grin to myself, as his face twists. He takes another sip. “Interesting tasting orange juice.”
“Yep, it’s imported straight from Florida. Bold stuff.” I say, watching him drink more of the juice. I reach for my pen, trying to keep from laughing. “Why don’t we get started on this project?”
Jackson makes a gagging noise, staring straight down the cup. “What the heck is in this?!”
I grab the cup from his hands, and look at the dark brown mass stuck to the bottom. “Oh no! The dishwasher always leaves stuff at the bottom of these glasses.”
Jackson almost dry heaves at the table. “I think some of it fell into my mouth. It tastes like crap.”
That’s because it is. I think it’s best I don’t go into detail on that part of the plan. But Jocelyn was right. Brutus is a very helpful dog.
“I need to go wash my mouth out.” He complains, much to my pleasure. I had planned he would say that.
I point towards the half-bath in the hallway. “There’s some Listerine in that bathroom over there. You can go use it.”
He groans as he walks into in, dry heaving in the toilet a few times. I throw my head on the table in laughter. Weston was right. Weston was so right. This is too satisfying. And I can barely contain myself as I hear him unscrew the cap of the Listerine bottle.
A minute later and I hear him spray the liquid right out of his mouth. “Dear god, this is not Listerine.”
I laugh silently. “Oh, Jackson. Please tell me you didn’t use the Listerine bottle that’s on the counter.”
He opens the door, fear stricken again. “I did.”
“I meant for you to use the one under the sink. The one on the counter is… Brutus’s pee.”
“WHAT THE—?!” Next thing I know and Jackson is jumping around in the bathroom in a frenzy. He reaches for the Listerine under the sink, before pouring what seems like a whole cup in his mouth. He swishes it around vigorously, eyes closed in misery. Words do not explain my pleasure.
Suddenly, Jackson’s eyes shoot open. They are red, and tears are starting to fall out. He spits the Listerine out, fanning his mouth. “Why is it so hot?”
I shrug. “That’s probably the Listerine’s combination with the pee.”
Or maybe it’s the habenero juice Weston squeezed into the bottle.
Either way, Jackson keeps his head under the sink for a good four minutes and thirty eight seconds.
By the time he’s come out, I’ve set up the paper, and started taking notes on the subject. His face is set in a permanent frown, and all I can do is smile. “Today really must not be your day.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “No. I guess it’s not.”
“So, shall we work on our project now?”
“As long as no more coincidental issues pop up.” He states.
I decide to give him a break. He’s already getting really suspicious just a little bit too fast. So we stick strictly to the project for the next half hour or so. I’m supposed to make him fail, but I decide to wait on giving bad answers. Jackson may not be the smartest guy in the world, but he’s not stupid. And I’m sure he’ll pick up on the fact that I’m trying to sabotage the project if I start too soon.
My stomach starts growling, and I realize I haven’t even eaten since lunch. “I’m going to get something to eat. You want something?”
He’s deeply involved in the project so he doesn’t even look at me as he says, “Sure, whatever.”
I pull out a container of beef stew that was leftover from the other night. I pour some into each bowl. Sneaking a peek over my shoulder, I make sure Jackson isn’t looking, before I reach in the drawer and pull out the can of dog food Jocelyn left me. I slide the slimy mess into one of the bowls before popping both in the microwave. Two minutes and thirty seconds later, and I pull both of them out, walking to the table.
Jackson seems alert now, and is eyeing the beef stew suspiciously. My mind flickers back to a movie I had watched a few days ago. The Princess Bride. It taught me a very interesting lesson of what some people do when they are suspicious, and so I make sure to place the beef stew with the dog food in front of myself. Just like I want, he starts to reach for my bowl.
“Not that I don’t trust you or anything, but I just think your bowl of stew looks so much better. You don’t mind do you?” He’s staring straight in my eyes, looking for some trace of worry. I show none.
“Have at it.” I say, grabbing his bowl.
He takes one big spoonful. “Delicious. How’s yours?”
I smile. “I doubt it has as much flavor as yours.”
He crams down the whole bowl of stew, before looking at his watch. “Well, as much as I enjoyed being over here, not, I have to leave. I’ve got a date. You know what those are right?”
Again, I ignore it. “That’s fine. I have some things I need to do too. Sorry for everything that’s been happening today.”
“Oh, it’s no problem.” He says. “No problem at all.”
He starts to walk to the front door to get his shoes, until he sees Brutus chewing them up. This I had not planned for. Jackson’s eyes get wide. “Those are four hundred dollar custom tennis shoes. Get that beast off of them.”
“Cease,” I say, and he drops them out of his mouth, laying down. Too late, though. The shoes are covered in dog slime.
Jackson looks down at them, before glowering at me. “That’s it. I know what you’re up to, Addelyn. You can play the goody-two-shoes role all you want, but you and I both know that what’s been happening today hasn’t been coincidence. Apparently you don’t remember what happened last time you tried to double cross me. Maybe you do. Just know that you have no idea who you’re messing with.”
I walk straight up to him, staring him in the eyes as coldly as I possibly can. A Weston-like smirk finds its way onto my face. “No, Jackson. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
I move to open up the front door, revealing his Escalade that is parked in the driveway. It is now covered in plastic wrap and lipstick, much like the way Jocelyn and I attempted to trash Weston’s car. Except this time, there’s a lot more lipstick. And they actually did the right car.
Jackson’s jaw drops at the sight of his vehicle, and he’s speechless. For a second, he turns back to me, still shocked. I grin at him. “Get ready, Jackson. Old Addelyn is gone. And this Addelyn is going to make your life a living nightmare.”
A/N: I have to say that this is my favorite chapter out of all the ones I’ve written. :) I’ve got a lot more coming for you guys, so you better VOTE VOTE VOTE and COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT! You know how fast I move when I feel the love. So, I better feel it. ;)