Teenage Dirtbags by James Acker

Author:James Acker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inkyard Press
Published: 2024-02-09T18:25:25+00:00

PHIL

TRACK SIX

Smooth Criminal

There I was. Sitting atop a toilet. Hiding in the second-story men’s room of the Moorestown Community Center, my swift and certain execution an out-of-line whimper away, and I couldn’t stop smiling. If I laughed, a chaperone might catch me. If I cheered, I was sure to be thrown out onto the street. And yet? Reading Cameron Ellis’s latest blog post made me want to break out into song. Because it had worked. It was working. The Brynn Show was on hiatus. Taking the time to focus on herself. The Skwad dropped out of All-Night Dodgeball last minute. Some important family stuff just came up. Doug had to beg his basketball friends to let Cameron on their dodgeball team and Augie had one foot out the door. Sometimes friendship is work. With just a sprinkle of Jackson’s charm and a drop of Ronny’s spite, Operation: Ruin My Ex-Boyfriend’s Life was going off without a hitch and the moon felt like it was shining just for me.

Ronny’s text knocked me out of my read.

R: Leggo

It was starting.

I hopped off the toilet, slipped out of the stall, and paused by the mirror to adjust my disguise. Moorestown Rowing hoodie. Gauges out and hair up in a bun. Sweatbands on my wrists and forehead and my school colors painted on my cheeks. I looked like any nameless jock. I looked absolutely brimming with school fucking spirit and nothing like the outlaw Philip J. Reyno. Since the Skwad torpedoed my reputation, to say nothing of my generous detention count, the lovely Mrs. Stapler had “gently advised” that I not sign up for All-Night Dodgeball. Not cause any more trouble. But the Scarlet Asshole that had been branded on my skin wouldn’t stop me from my mission. Nothing could.

I was undercover. I was ready to play.

I caught Ronny in the stairwell. Even though she’d worn her Moorestown lacrosse uniform a thousand times on the field, the show of after-hour school support looked every bit as out of place on Ron as it did on me.

She spat up half of her Red Bull at the sight of my disguise. “NO MY GOD.”

Ronny cackled at the ceiling, her laughter running up the stairs. I did a little strut down, shaking my butt in my Moorestown-brand gym shorts. “Who’s the town that’s hard to beat? Moorestown! Moorestown!”

Ronny joined my dead-eyed cheerleader bit, clapping her hands to the beat and doing a little cheerleader box step. “C’mon, Quakers, on your feet! MOORESTOWN! MOORESTOWN!”

Ronny did a skillful high kick in her lacrosse skirt and I dropped to a knee, shaking my invisible pom-poms in the air. We cheered for nobody. “GOOOOOO MOORESTOWN!”

We almost collapsed to the floor laughing, but Ron remembered we were spies in enemy territory and pushed us back on track. Because while I was disguised and ready to assist, tonight’s scheme was all Ronny DiSario. Phase One was Jackson’s domain, the social assassination of Brynn Forester, but the second name on our list was Ronny’s skull to claim.

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