“Hang on; I didn’t do anything to Jeff. I actually helped him.”
Cassidy turned to Jeff. It sounded like he hadn’t told her the whole story.
“You knew that cat was evil,” he started.
“Whoa, you’ve heard plenty of stories about the cat from hell.”
Cassidy was trying to decide what to do. I thought I might be able to head things off before she chose to hurt me.
“I’m a lover, not a fighter,” I told her and waggled my eyebrows.
What’s the point in being a movie star-slash-model if you can’t get a girl to keep from kicking your butt by flirting with her? Cassidy grabbed my thumb.
“Pitching hand! Pitching hand!” I said as I went to my knees.
“Give me your other hand,” she ordered.
I’m no dummy, so I held it out for her so she could get it in the same hold as she released my right hand. Once she had me on my knees, she leaned down and kissed me. She turned to Jeff.
“Happy?” she asked.
“He didn’t cry,” Jeff complained.
I stuck my tongue out at him and everyone laughed. Cassidy set me free and explained if I ever let Jeff get hurt again, she’d be back. I was careful not to make any remarks about my best friend being a wuss. I would save that for when he and I were playing Call of Duty. I’d probably have to off him. I know it’s not right to kill a teammate, but sometimes you just have to do what you have to do. I was sure Alan would agree. He might even help me kill Jeff six or seven times. ‘Friendly fire’ sometimes happened.
UNBELIEVABLE! I HAVE never seen a cat suck up to anyone as much as Precious did when Brit came home with me from baseball practice. You have never heard such pitiful meowing as when she saw her mistress come through the back door.
“How did you get the leash on her?” Brock asked, leaning in so only his brother and I could hear.
“I had Jeff let her cling to his back,” I told them as if I were parting with some pearl of wisdom.
Bryan looked at Brock and began to chuckle.
“Think again, little brother. I’m not getting anywhere near Precious after the day she’s had. She’d tear me to shreds,” Brock said and started to back up.
I looked up in time to see Brit open the crate. I swear the cat’s eyes glowed red as she stared me down. Even Duke was smart enough to find something else to do at that moment. I about kicked Bryan’s ass as he used me as a human shield. Precious had the big tough brothers fearing for their lives.
“Come to mama, baby,” Brit said as she picked up her cat.
As she walked out the back door, Precious hissed and swatted at me.
“That’s right, protect mama from the bad man,” Brit cooed.
I was looking for my protection. He was peeking around the side of the house behind me. I guess he figured if I got maimed, he’d have a head start.
The triplets had just gotten home and I got a big grin on my face when I heard a muffled squeal and then, “Get her off me.” I hoped it was Bryan who got to play with Brit’s kitty. The whole human-shield thing irritated me. Maybe I could get him to play Call of Duty with Jeff, Alan and me later. A little ‘friendly fire’ would do him some good.
Tuesday April 28
WHEN I GOT TO SCHOOL, I was looking for some people. My plan for killing Jeff and Bryan had been an epic fail. Jeff was a very smart guy, so I should have figured he knew what I was going to do. I hadn’t counted on Bryan and Brock turning on me also. I was okay with it until Alan set up as a sniper and camped my spawn locations. Those are where you come back to life after you die in the game. It’s considered very poor gaming etiquette to camp (wait) for an opponent to come back to life. They’re defenseless as they’re reborn, and you can kill them over and over again. You can only listen to ‘Oops, my bad,’ ‘Sorry’ and ‘I thought you were on the other team’ so many times. Many games have rules about killing your own teammates that include apologies. Then Alan put together a video clip of me getting wasted in the most entertaining ways. It might have been funny if it was someone else. I did die spectacularly several times.
I got even, though. I logged off. I received more than one inappropriate text calling my manhood into question. I called Ty Wilson, my friend at Washington High, and got his logon. He had played with us several times. They let him join their team for the next game. When we all spawned to start the game, I hosed them all down with my machine gun. I think Ty was in for a rude awakening the next time he logged on to play.
I came storming up to everyone and out of the corner of my eye saw Cassidy talking to Gina. They were lucky she was there.
“You guys suck,” I said as my way of saying good morning.
“Bite me, Dawson. You let the cat from hell attack me,” Jeff said, still whining about playing with Precious.
“How did you get Ty to kill us all? Did you go whining to him about how unfair we were being?” Alan asked, mimicking my voice.
He made me sound a little shrill. Surely, I hadn’t sounded that bad. I wasn’t about to tell them Ty gave me his logon. I figured Ty needed to find out the hard way. He’d killed me more than once on purpose. Maybe I started it, but he should have been the bigger man and chalked it up as a learning experience.
“I have a question,” Bryan said. “Why in the world did you give Cassidy your other thumb? Couldn’t she just have snapped them both off?”
“Ah, you have much to learn,” I said, gathering the guys around. I didn’t need Cassidy overhearing me. “There were two reasons, well maybe three, as to why I did it. The first was she did have my pitching hand and it was a little uncomfortable. The second was Cassidy is nothing if she isn’t honorable, so I knew if I made the offer she would accept it and not take advantage. The third is she’s my friend and her dad told her not to hurt me. Finally, Cassidy knows exactly how much pressure I can take before I’m really hurt.”
“That was like five reasons,” Alan offered helpfully.
“Plus, if David had wanted to get away he could have. Shiggy taught him how to counter that move,” Jeff shared.
“Yeah, that works so well,” I said as I rolled my eyes. It might work once out of every ten times. The other nine would result in a dislocated thumb. No way would I want that to happen.
The bell rang. I ran over, scooped Cassidy up, and put her on my shoulder. She didn’t even squeak. She stole my baseball cap and put it on as I walked into the school.
“What are you doing?” Gina asked.
“She defeated me in combat yesterday. I’m carrying her to her locker as her reward.”
Cassidy was doing a royal wave to her subjects as they parted to let us through. All was fun and games until her dad saw us and made me put her down. I was pissed when she scampered off with my baseball cap.
AT LUNCH, WE CONFIRMED that our Alternate Prom was a go. Stacy Clute, Alan’s girlfriend, had come up with the name and artwork. Someone had the ingenious plan of doing a hog roast, and the Country Club would provide age-appropriate beverages and side dishes so we could have a sit-down dinner.
We got food from Alicia, the girl who was on the original Prom committee. Her dad owned a hog farm. He agreed to sell us a hog at his price, and he had everything we needed to do a hog roast. Alicia’s uncle said he would do the actual cooking of the pig. We just had to provide the beer.
“We’ve already sold forty tickets and none of you have bought any yet,” Alicia told the lunch crew.
It turned out the price for tickets was less than what I’d paid for my Prom tickets. I noticed the tickets specifically said there was no dress code.
“What’s this about?” I asked.
“One of the biggest complaints about Prom is people have to get dressed up. Buying a dress is expensive,” Stacy said.