[v2] Chapter 33: A Devious Prank

Ohhhhhhh, buddy.

The air around Mari was practically buzzing. Every pair of eyes in the cafeteria locked onto her like she was about to deliver the final piece of a prophecy. She knew she had the floor—and she milked it, stretching out the silence until Greg finally cracked.

“Sooo?” he hissed, jittery with anticipation.

Mari tilted her head. “Remember when you tried to kill me?”

I immediately knew what she meant. Okay, technically it was exaggerated, but if you saw how far she flew that day? Not exactly a stretch.

“I remember,” I said cautiously, trying not to sound like I’d been waiting for this to come back and haunt me.

“Jamal walked past me that day,” she continued, “right when I saw you at that—whatever-it-was—secret room. Still can’t believe they made the entrance that obvious.”

“Didn’t you say you didn’t see him?” Nikki asked, eyes narrowing.

“When?” Mari blinked, furrowing her brows.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My memory was an overcooked microwave burrito—hot on the surface, cold in the middle, and full of regret.

“Doesn’t matter,” Nikki muttered, already losing interest. “They don’t let you take anything from that room anyway.”

“It’s like the fire alarm,” Tisiah chimed in. “You can pull it, but you really shouldn’t.”

“Either way,” Mari said, shifting forward, “I made the connection. You were spying on Jamal because he was stealing food… or was he?” She raised a brow. “We should go check.”

“What if they removed it?” Greg asked skeptically.

“Doesn’t matter. We’re going after Jamal anyway. This guy hates Connor—not because he really does, but because he’s trying to get in Malachi’s good graces. You want September. Malachi wants September. And Jamal? He’s using that tension to pull both your pants down in front of everyone.”

Dead silence.

“His hatred for Connor is kind of… unnatural,” Greg admitted.

“Not really. I did annoy him a little,” I said.

“How? By not telling Nikki that he likes her?” Greg jabbed.

“I mean…” Nikki scratched the back of her neck. “Yeah.”

Mari clapped her hands once. “We move during the passing period. Hallways’ll be packed—we’ll blend right in.”

“There are definitely cameras,” I said. “They’ll know.”

“You’re thinking too much. Just do it,” Mari snapped.

And that was the end of the conversation.

***

Passing Period – 15:18

The hallway burst with bodies—students flooding every corridor like a tidal wave of backpacks and sneakers. Perfect cover. The five of us weaved through the chaos, slipped down the stairs, and made our way to the back storage room behind the cafeteria—ground zero for whatever Jamal had been doing.

Honestly, I was surprised no one had come down here sooner. A couple of weeks had passed, and this place looked untouched. Boxes, fridges, deep freezers—all stacked like a maze of laziness and liability.

“What exactly are we looking for again?” Tisiah asked, already sweating.

“Where’d he steal the pastries from?” Mari asked back.

“Far corner fridge,” I said, pointing.

Mari charged ahead with sudden urgency. “Go quick!”

The panic in her voice made me turn. Three security agents were barreling through the door—those same guys in tactical vests who had once chased me like I was a lab rat.

Of course they heard us in the cafeteria. Of course they used the cameras. I’m literally being framed as a mole, and now I’m running like one too.

I dodged and weaved through stacks of boxes, but the room might as well have been a jungle gym designed by sadists. Then—bam—I caught my shin on a box and slammed into the concrete floor.

Tastes like depression.

I looked up. One of the guards, a blond guy with wiry hair and a wand buzzing with electricity, stood over me.

“NOPE,” I shrieked, scrambling to my feet just as he lunged. I ducked his swing and bolted, adrenaline lighting my veins on fire. I could hear my friends fighting their own battles, but all I could think was—

Where is that fridge?!

Then—like a ray of hope—it appeared.

I yanked the door open, praying there was anything even remotely suspicious inside. All I found was a stack of crumbling pastries. Great. My heart pounded, sweat blinding my eyes as I dropped to my knees, thrusting my hands under the fridge in desperation.

I activated my Perk to keep the fridge hovering—and felt something odd. A wire. Something not pastry-shaped.

Just as the guards cornered me, I pulled it out.

Everyone froze.

The guards. My friends. Me.

“Oh my God…” the blond guard whispered.

Then—beep-beep-beep.

A soft chirping sound.

And suddenly the room exploded with panic.

Alarms blared. Red lights flashed from nowhere. The object in my hand—some makeshift device—was definitely not a cake. Or, well, maybe a cake bomb.

“Give it here!” the guard snapped, snatching it from my hands and barking into his radio. “We’ve got an active device! Repeat, we need Bombsquad now!”

I stood up, trembling. The timer on the bomb read: 2:00.

“Not enough time to evacuate the whole school,” Greg muttered.

“Why did it only go off after Connor touched it?” Tisiah asked, rubbing the mark left by the guard who’d tackled him earlier.

“Take the kids and get them out!” the blond guard shouted to another agent.

But as everyone prepared to evacuate, I noticed something—a switch.

Out of pure instinct, I flipped it.

The bomb shut off.

Silence.

Even the alarms seemed to stutter and stop in confusion. The blond guard turned the device over, visibly panicked, now looking more confused than scared.

“Is this… some kind of joke?”

“Looks like a fake,” Greg said, peering over his shoulder. “Jamal must’ve planted it.”

“Who’s Jamal?” the guard snapped.

Before we could answer, the Bombsquad arrived—ten agents in full gear, maneuvering past boxes like ballerinas in body armor. One of them, probably the leader, picked up the bomb, examined it, and laughed.

“A prop,” he said. “Someone’s idea of a prank.”

“Student prank?” one of the others asked.

The leader shook his head. “False alarm.”

“Guess that explains why it only triggered after being moved,” Tisiah muttered.

Nikki turned slowly toward Mari, narrowing her eyes. “...You came to our table like Sonic the Hedgehog. Then we find this down here? Suspicious much?”

Mari folded her arms, defensive. “You really think I planted that?”

“Do I need to draw a diagram?” Nikki snapped.

The security guards were listening now, and even the Bombsquad started murmuring.

But Mari didn’t flinch.

“If I’d planted it, I would’ve been caught already,” she hissed. “You saw those guys. They were watching us from the start. If this was my prank, I’d be in cuffs. And trust me—I’m not dumb enough to get framed as the mole over something that stupid.”

Greg blinked. “...Dang.”

The guard who’d tackled Tisiah stepped forward. “Let’s get you all out of here.”

As we turned to leave, I heard him mutter under his breath:

“Call Lloyd.”