Smoke billowed out through the side doors of the high school gym in great puffy clouds, creating exactly the effect we’d wanted. It filled the night sky with the sweet—okay, the smoky—scent of revenge.
At the time, we were juniors. The underclassman. The underdogs. And my cousin, Jules, was in an all out war with the senior class queen bee. We’d endured a year of lost battles, detentions at failed pranks, and lies, thanks to Bea Wallace.
It was senior prom, and it didn’t take long for everyone to stampede into the parking lot. Flashes of brightly colored dresses appeared through the smoke, the girls panicking and the guys pretending they were all macho and protective when they were probably peeing their pants. We just set up a few strategically placed smoke blasters to add a little excitement to their lives. Stories to tell their grandchildren. In a few years they’d be thanking us and laughing about it all.
The whole idea had started when my Uncle Rudie and Dad sent the grilled pizza up into flames. I’m not even sure who came up with it first, but suddenly Jules and I were planning revenge with words like prom and smoke machines sneaking into the conversation.
We didn’t even debate. There was no doubt. We knew we’d settle the score the night of senior prom as our way of saying goodbye and good riddance.
The fire trucks zoomed into the parking lot faster than we’d expected, their lights flashing and sirens blaring.
The smoke in the air tickled my nose and back of my throat. “Um, do you think what we did could be considered more than a prank? Like a felony? Maybe we used one too many blasters.”
“No way. It’s just smoke, Cassidy.” Jules peered around the corner of the building.
Firemen stormed the side lawn and rushed into the gym with gas masks and hoses at the ready. A sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach mushroomed into the need to puke behind the bushes.
I nudged Jules and couldn’t help but glance at the trail through the woods that led to our getaway. “We really should get going. I’ll go start the car…”
Nothing I said would’ve changed her mind. She was set in her spot behind the landscaping, her eyes fixed on the parking lot in hopes of finding Bea.
“Just a few more seconds,” she finally whispered back.
My skin prickled and my armpits were sticky and uncomfortable. A sure signal I needed to leave. “I’ll see you back at the car.”
“Uh-huh.” She was still fixated.
I stepped out from behind the bush, my feet itching to run.
“Stop right there, miss,” the deep voice called from the shadows.
Mistake one? I didn’t stop. The heat of getting caught flared and my armpit sweat morphed from a trickling stream into a river. Slowly, I moved toward the woods while spitting out the planned excuses. I held out my chemistry book. “Just getting my chem book for finals, officer, sir.”
“Stop. Now.” His voice grew deeper and more threatening.
My getaway slowed to a crawl. I waved the thick text. “Got to get studying.”
I glanced at the woods. What if I outran him to the waiting car and we ended up in a high-speed chase through the neighborhood? All I could picture were the explosions and fire and flipped over cars that usually ended those chases. I didn’t want to end up like that.
It was almost our senior year. I was too young to die.
“Hands up!” the cop ordered.
Slowly, I turned and raised my hands with the heavy text. Why hadn’t we picked English Lit so I could hold up a slim copy of poetry?
I didn’t even give the cop a chance to ask any questions. I produced a few crocodile tears, which wasn’t hard, because I was in complete panic mode.
“Oh, please, sir, I’m just trying to achieve high grades. My senior year is coming up and that means college applications.”
“You had nothing to do with this?” He nodded toward the fleeing prom couples.
“That’s the truth, sir.” My voice came out shaky like I was about to break down.
“Then I guess you won’t mind coming down to the station and taking a polygraph while chatting with the detective.”
This was where I realized I watched too many crime shows and interrogations where the cops shouted and played mind games. I blurted out the truth.
“Okay, yes, I lied. I’m sorry. I panicked and cops scare me.” His face steeled like I was in for it. “I appeal to your softer side, officer. Maybe you have kids and know they make mistakes. I’ve made mistakes but I’ve seen the light.” He narrowed his eyes and reached for the handcuffs on his belt—or was it his gun? I blubbered. “I’m not perfect, I admit, but please don’t throw me in jail for years. My parents will kill me. They said one more thing and my life would be over.”
“One more thing?” He raised an eyebrow and his face softened. Maybe there was a slight chance.
“It really wasn’t my fault when our storage shed burst into flames or when the fire alarm at the mall went off or when the entire ski lodge had to be evacuated on our vacation. Seriously. I swore I saw someone sneak a homemade bomb into the trashcan. It turned out to be trash but it looked suspicious and we’d just had a bomb threat at school so I had bomb on the brain. They were all innocent mistakes. You can see that, right, sir?”
That was when I realized that what I mistook for compassion was really an amused curiosity. I should’ve stuck to the story. Thank God I didn’t mention all our failed pranks this past year. That definitely would’ve made me look guilty.
“Why don’t we take a little ride and you can explain your story down at the station. With your parents.”
“Oh.”
I tried not to wiggle when his hand clamped down on my arm like I was a threat to humankind. I didn’t look back once because Jules and I had made a pact that if one got caught, the other wouldn’t squeal.
I just never thought the one getting shoved into the back of squad car would be me.
***
My parents arrived at the station with unusually pale complexions. Mine probably wasn’t any better. I’d hoped for some comfort food like cupcakes or homemade chocolate chip cookies. Even bakery cookies would do in a pinch. But no such luck.
They listened. They nodded their heads, but I didn’t see even one fake smile, for me anyway. They uh-huhed and yessed and said “We completely understand” a lot.
The drive home was silent and scary. Dad finally spoke when we were in the driveway.
“We’ll need time to talk to the school and think about this so we don’t make any rash decisions. Make no mistake. We are disappointed in your decision, and there will be consequences.”
That was all that was said for weeks.
***
Prom Impossible is the first book in the series. Prompossible Plans and Covert Kissing are available now. Visit laurapauling.com for more information. Sign up for my newsletter to be notified of new releases.
About Laura
Laura Pauling is the author of the exciting young adult Circle of Spies Series, the Prom Impossible Books, and the time travel mysteries, Heist and A Royal Heist. She writes to entertain and experience a great story…and be able to work in her pajamas and slippers. To keep up with her new releases sign up for her newsletter so you don’t miss out!
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