The Anti-Prom (17 page)

“I’m part of the team, remember?” I look around, waiting for my heartbeat to return to something resembling normal. The room is shadowed, but I can make out a reception desk, filing cabinets, and couches in the main space, with a fish tank in the far corner, lit up in an eerie blue glow. I turn back to Bliss. “Did you find Jolene yet?”

She shakes her head. “I just got in.”

“Right.” I try to think like a wild child, hell-bent on vengeance. “She probably headed for the offices, or maybe storage. Do you even know what she’s after?”

Bliss nods, but doesn’t say anything more.

“Then we’d better —”

The sound of breaking glass suddenly shatters the silence, the loud noise echoing through the room for what feels like forever. We freeze.

“What was that?” Bliss whispers, clutching my arm.

“It was coming from back there.” My stomach lurches, just imagining what Jolene is doing. “Do you think anyone heard?”

“They heard that in Alaska!” Bliss’s eyes are wide with panic. She looks past me and gasps. “Look, he’s coming!”

The dark shadow of the security guard is heading toward the building. My heart stops.

“You cover here.” Bliss shoves me toward the door. “Stop him searching the place. I’ll get Jolene; we’ll try and make it out the back.”

“But —”

“Do it!” She trips away down the hallway, stumbling in her heels.

I turn back to the entrance, my mind blank. He’s close enough to see clearly now: in his fifties, maybe, wearing a crumpled blue uniform shirt and pants that bulge around the waistband. He’s trying to speak into a walkie-talkie device, shaking it in frustration, but it’s too late to be relieved that Jolene’s remote is still blocking transmissions — he looks up.

“Hey!” The guard pushes through the door, flashing his light in my face. I reel back, squinting. “Who are you? What are you doing in here?”

I gulp.

“Come on, kid. Did you break something?” he demands, swooping the flashlight around the room. “I heard the noise.”

I’m frozen in fear for a terrible second until it registers that his voice has softened. He sounds more confused than angry now, like he was expecting to find a gang of delinquents trashing the place. Instead, there’s only me: five foot three, in strappy heels and a floor-length gown.

Thank you, prom dress.

“I . . . I’m sorry. ” My voice comes out strangled, so I clear my throat and try again. “I knocked some things off the desk. Nothing’s damaged, see?” I quickly flip the lights on, flooding the room in a warm glow. Suddenly, it doesn’t look suspicious and deserted anymore, just tidy.

The guard pauses, looking around. “But what are you doing in here? These buildings are supposed to be locked tight.”

“I . . . work here. After school.” I swallow, my stomach flipping over in a terrible lurch. “Just . . . filing, and answering phones and stuff.”

He narrows his eyes suspiciously. “It’s kind of late to be sneaking around.”

I bob my head eagerly. “I know, I’m sorry, but I wasn’t sneaking. I have keys and the alarm code! I let myself in.”

“Hmmm . . .” The guard doesn’t seem convinced. “I swear I heard something. . . .”

I watch with horror as he takes a few steps toward the hallway, sweeping his flashlight into the dark. If he goes back there, then it’s all over. He’ll find the broken glass, and Bliss and Jolene, and all the innocent explanations in the world won’t make a difference in our fates.

Do something.

My eyes land on the tank in the corner. “The fish!”

He pauses. “What was that?”

“I came to feed the fish!” I scoot toward the corner, praying the guard follows me. He doesn’t move. “They’re really rare,” I announce, desperate. “A special tropical breed. Look!”

Finally, he clicks off his flashlight and strolls back across the lobby.

“I’m supposed to look after them, you see,” I explain loudly, waving at the tank. “Only, I forgot. And it’s the weekend, and if I left them all that time without food, they’d die, and my boss would kill me, and . . .” I take a ragged breath, blood pounding in my ears.

The guard peers through the glass at the whirl of tiny, gold-flecked scales. “Huh. They’re special, you say?”

“My boss imported them from . . . Brazil,” I agree. “I was already at prom when I remembered, so I thought if I came back in, then I could feed them, and nobody would know.” I fix him with my best innocent look, wide-eyed and virtuous.

“Prom?” He snaps his fingers, recognition dawning. “East Midlands High, right? My sister’s kid goes there. Georgia Hayes. You know her?”

“Yes!” I nod furiously. “We have Lit class together.”

Reassured, the guard seems to relax. “Still, it’s against the rules to be creeping around so late,” he scolds me lightly. “I’m supposed to report anyone I see out here.”

“But I’ll get fired for sure if they know I forgot!” I try my best to look tragic, quivering my lower lip and blinking in an attempt to muster some tears. Bliss should be the one here; God knows she’s the drama queen, but maybe I have some talent after all, because the guard sighs.

“It doesn’t seem like there’s anything damaged,” he agrees, looking around. “And if I make sure you lock up on your way out . . .”

Lock up? I freeze. I told him I had keys, but how am I supposed to fake that?

“Thanks!” I try, my voice quivering. “That’s so nice of you.” I stall for time, taking the box of feed from beside the tank and shaking it slowly over the surface of the water while my mind races for an answer.

What on earth am I supposed to do now?

“Do you . . . need to go patrol the rest of the complex?” I ask hopefully. “Because I can close up here by myself. I don’t want to waste any more of your time,” I add.

“No, it’s fine.” The guard checks his receiver again, but there’s nothing but static. “I need to go check the battery on this thing. But we’ll get this place locked up nice and tight first.”

“Uh-huh,” I murmur. Then I catch a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. Jolene. She edges out from the hallway and gestures, waving a set of keys at me. The guard follows my gaze and begins to turn.

“Do you think they look OK?” I squeak. “The fish, I mean!”

He turns back. “What?”

“Because I left them hours without food. Will that be OK, do you think? They seem kind of sluggish. . . .” As I babble about feeding times and whether they’re about to go belly-up on me, I see Jolene sneak across the room and place the keys on a table next to the alarm panel. She scurries back, out of sight.

“But you know, I think they’ll be fine,” I finish abruptly, slamming the lid back into place. “And I need to get home. I don’t want my parents worrying.”

Scurrying over to the alarm panel, I scoop up the keys. Beside them is a scrap of paper with a scribbled alarm code. I tap in the digits, watching anxiously as the green light turns red and the thing emits a high-pitched beep of confirmation. “See?” I tell the guard, dizzy with relief. “All secure.”

I lock up behind us, my hands shaking so much I almost drop the keys, but at last, it’s done. “I have to go now. My parents will be waiting.” I back away, controlling the urge to simply turn and run.

“You take care now.” The guard nods, strolling back toward his car. “And tell Georgia hey from me.”

“I will!”

I hurry back down the dark street, but this time, I don’t even flinch at the shadows. The panicked knot in my stomach has melted into a glorious exhilaration; every pulse singing in triumph.

I did it.

I stepped up. I saved the day. Meg Rose Zuckerman is a spectator no more.

“Hurry!” Jolene yanks my arm, racing down the dark corridor.

“But he’s gone,” I gasp, stumbling after her. “Meg came through. We’re all clear!” I still can’t believe it, but somehow the girl flipped a switch and started acting like a different person. Someone awesome.

“Not yet. She set the alarm.” Jolene rounds the corner ahead of me, clutching her backpack and that painting of hers, rolled into a thick bundle. “That means we’ve got two, maybe three minutes to get out before the system goes live.”

“Oh, crap.”

We run past dark offices and storerooms, fast enough to feel a burn in my chest. I am so not cut out for extreme sports. Or, you know, running.

Jolene throws open one of the heavy metal doors at the end of the hallway. “Back here,” she gasps.

“No freaking way.” I stop dead. Looming out of the dark are huge stacks of soft toys: rows and rows of oversize, lurid teddy bears and bug-eyed bunny rabbits. “I’m going to have nightmares about these freaks.” I shudder, prodding a blue frog. His face is fixed with a manic kind of grin, like he’s about to come alive and start sacrificing small children.

“Bliss!” Jolene plunges ahead, her flashlight flickering in the black.

I sigh. We couldn’t go sneaking around any bright, warm places in a decent part of town. Nope, with Jolene, it’s all creepy warehouses and alarm systems that could go off at any minute. I race down the aisles, my heels echoing on the concrete. There’s a loading bay in the back, and — thank God — the pale green glow of an emergency exit sign shimmering above the —

“Locked.” Jolene throws down the heavy chain padlock, swearing. She kicks the door angrily.

“That’s it?” My panic kicks up a level, but she’s already sweeping the back wall for our escape. The beam pauses on a row of narrow windows, closed up tight and way too high to get to. “Oh, no.” I shake my head, following her expression. “Are you kidding me!”

Jolene doesn’t answer; she just makes straight for the shelves underneath and hoists herself up. “Jolene, stop!” I hiss, but she keeps on climbing, the whole shelving unit quivering with every move. “Get down from there. It’s, like, twenty feet high.”

“More like fifteen,” she corrects me, clambering up the shelves. “And do you see any other way out?”

“No, but do you want us to break our necks?” I gulp. Getting stuck in a brace all summer would wreck my social life way more than Kaitlin and Cameron ever could. I can just imagine it now: them frolicking at every pool party in town, while I stay stuck indoors watching daytime TV and listening to my mom lecture me about the consequences of my actions.

Jolene clearly doesn’t share my summer schedule. She reaches the top and heaves the window open, looking down at me, impatient. “Come on, Bliss. Get up here!”

“And then what?” I cry. “Is there even anything on the other side?”

“We don’t have time to find out!” Jolene waits another second and then shakes her head. “You know what? Fine. Stay. Get caught!” She starts to squeeze herself out the narrow space, headfirst.

“Jolene!” I yelp, but just like that, she’s gone.

The warehouse is silent.

“Perfect,” I mutter, gathering my skirts and reaching for the first shelf. “Be that way. I’ll just tell the cops you”— I grab for the next railing —“were the one who started all this”— my thigh hits a hard edge, and I let out a yelp —“when they scrape my comatose body off the concrete”— the stack begins to sway; I gulp —“in one great mangled heap!”

At last, I reach the top. The floor is a very, very long way away. I stick my head through the narrow gap. “Jolene?”

“Drop down.” I hear her voice coming from outside. In the light from the security lamps, I can see her dusting herself off — way, way below me. “Don’t be such a wimp,” she hisses. “There are boxes and stuff to break the fall.”

Right. Because
break
and
fall
are really words I want to hear so close together. I begin to slowly squeeze through the space.

“Get a move on,” Jolene orders, frantic. “The alarm will go on any second now.”

With a lurch of fear, I scramble out and lower myself until I’m clinging to the ledge. The window slams shut above me, leaving me with only one way down. I dangle there, feeling only air on my legs.

“Bliss!”

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

I let go.

“OOOOOWWWWW!”

“Shhh!” Jolene clamps a hand over my mouth.

“My ankle!” I let out a strangled yelp. We’re in an alley behind the building, surrounded by old packing crates and trash bags. God knows what grime I’ve fallen into, but all I can register is the pain shooting white-hot all the way through my foot. “I landed wrong; it must be broken.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Jolene drags me to my feet. “Don’t hang around — we need to find Meg.”

“Thanks for the sympathy.” I limp after her. “I’m telling you, it hurts.”

“And I’m telling you, there’s nothing I can do until —” There are headlights coming toward us. Jolene yanks me down behind the Dumpsters until the car edges closer and we can see Meg.

She leans over and opens up the passenger side. “He’s gone to check on the other buildings.” Meg’s whole face is lit up with excitement. “Get in, quick!”

I stumble over and throw myself in back. Jolene slides in the front seat, slams the door, and soon we’re speeding away from the scene of the crime.

“Did you get what you came for?” Meg asks eagerly. She takes a corner so fast the tires screech.

Jolene pats the canvas roll. “Yup. That was good work,” she adds quietly. “Covering with the keys and everything.”