What Happens After Midnight, page 3
Shit, I thought. Tag.
He too had come in with the rain.
With Alex as the Jester, Tag had one hundred percent been tapped to assist him. How could he not? Alex always had Tag’s back and Tag always had Alex’s. “Despite these unfortunate circumstances, I still think you’re spectacular, Lily,” I remembered Alex saying after things between Tag and me had ended. “Seriously.” He tried to smile. It was unspoken that we wouldn’t be hanging out as much anymore. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” I’d sort of smiled back. “But it’s okay; he’s your best friend.”
Alex nodded. “Yes, he is.”
My heart twisted now. An entire evening with Tag. I couldn’t decide if that was a pro or con for the prank. Sitting next to him in class yesterday had been painful but also a wish granted. Because I missed him. I really missed him.
I watched as several underclassmen girls confidently sauntered up to their couch, each wearing a Barbour raincoat and a pair of colorful Hunter rain boots. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what they wanted. In a nearby club chair, I caught Blair Greenberg roll her eyes and flick her glossy brown hair over her shoulder. Unlike Tag and me, their friend group always weathered the storm whenever Tag and Blair fought or broke up. Everyone could stay cool and act like nothing had happened.
Something curdled in my stomach. Had Alex tapped Blair too? Had he tapped his whole inner circle? And if so, what was the point of asking me?
I needed to know. I had never been a go-with-the-flow type of girl. I needed more information. What was this prank? Who else was involved? I wanted time to study the material.
Alex and I have physics together, I reminded myself, but in typical Alex Nguyen fashion, he strolled into our classroom right when the bell rang. It was as if it were announcing his arrival instead of signaling the start of class.
Mrs. Epstein-Fox spent the hour writing various equations on the whiteboard. Equations that I copied into my notebook but didn’t fully comprehend. If I needed help later, I would ask Daniel; we sat next to each other and were study partners for a couple classes. Physics was his best subject, and he took every opportunity to remind everyone of that. His mansplaining always tempted me to dump my water bottle over his head, but at least he answered my questions.
Once class was dismissed for lunch, my muscles tensed—I was about to make a casual mad dash over to Alex—but by the time I made it halfway across the room, he’d already slung his backpack over his shoulder and had his phone pressed against his ear. “Afternoon, Paul!” I heard him say, and then right before he disappeared into the hallway, “Yes, I’ll have the usual, please and thanks. Taggart’s gonna change things up, though. He’s feeling a diablo…”
Provisions, I realized. Alex was ordering lunch from Provisions, a sandwich shop in town. Josh said their food was overrated, but the rest of Ames begged to differ.
I quickly texted Zoe and Pravika that I wouldn’t be at the dining hall for lunch. “Where’re you headed?” someone asked, and I turned to see Daniel at my side. He tilted his head so he could see my phone screen. “Ah, Provisions?”
“Oh, um…” My spine straightened. This wasn’t the first time Daniel had peeked at my messages. “Yeah.” I said, pocketing my phone before grabbing my umbrella. “I’m going to brave the rain.”
Daniel held up his own umbrella. “I’ll brave it with you,” he offered.
No, thanks, I thought. I’m on a mission!
I also didn’t want to have lunch with Daniel. It would make things worse. “Saying yes to prom sends the wrong signal,” Pravika had pointed out. “Everyone knows he’s liked you forever, and now that you’re his date…” She shook her head. “You need to be honest about only wanting to be friends.”
“Okay, sure,” I heard myself say now. “Let’s go.”
Daniel smiled, and we set off together. But while I kicked my pace into a high-gear speed walk—I couldn’t miss this chance with Alex—Daniel moved at a casual clip. “Jesus, what’s the rush?” he asked right before we reached Ames’s front gates, just as I heard someone call my name. “Lily!”
It was Gabe, who worked in the brick guardhouse.
“Hey, Gabe,” I said, reluctantly veering away from the gates. “What’s up?”
“Major stuff.” He grinned. “The school’s finally giving me a shot in the big time.”
“The big time?” Daniel looked skeptical.
“Campo is letting me out of the isolation station,” Gabe explained, gesturing around the guardhouse. “You know Harvey is retiring, so they’re giving me his car and hiring some new guy to work this gig.” He held out his hand for a fist bump. “I’m finally joining the patrol squad.”
“Congratulations!” I exclaimed. Gabe had always wanted to be out on the “streets” with Campo. “I bet you can’t wait for next year.”
“Oh, yeah, for sure.” He nodded. “My first shift is actually the day after tomorrow. I’m gonna shadow Harvey for the rest of the term.”
I shifted from one foot to the other. Mr. Harvey wasn’t the head of Campo but definitely had seen the most action in the Ames “underworld.” He’d caught students sneaking out of their dorms, having sex on the sports fields, drunkenly serenading the moon after dances, and negotiating tennis court drug deals.
He was perhaps my biggest worry about getting involved with the Jester. Everyone was convinced that the only reason last year’s prank had gone off without a hitch was because Mr. Harvey hadn’t been on campus that night. He was at home recovering from a knee replacement.
After congratulating Gabe one more time, Daniel and I crossed into town. Provisions, with its yellow siding and dark blue-and-white awning, wasn’t too crowded.
But Alex was nowhere to be seen.
“Hello there!” the owner greeted us as I scanned the shop again, even though it was obvious Alex had picked up his food and run. My shoulders sagged. “What’ll it be?”
Daniel nudged me. “You ready?” He held up his debit card. “I’ve got this.”
I tried not to wince. I didn’t want Daniel to pay for me but worried it would be rude if I straight up said no.
Instead, I voiced a version of it. Something my mom would say: “Yeah, I’ll Venmo you.” Then I quickly rattled off my sandwich order before he could protest. Five minutes later, we were at a high-top table with turkey and roast beef sandwiches, potato chips, and tall fountain sodas. Salted caramel brownies for dessert too.
Provisions’s sandwiches were so massive that you could only eat them in silence, so there was no talking until we took a break. “I have some news,” Daniel said as I took a long sip of Pepsi.
My pulse quickened. News? What news?
“Good or bad?” I inquired.
“Well, not as awesome as Gabe’s promotion,” he deadpanned, “but I’d still say good news.” He smirked. “I swung by the yearbook office this morning, and the Almanacs have finally arrived.”
I put down my soda, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean finally? Haven’t they been here?” Because Ames’s yearbooks were supposed to be handed out Friday after classes…two days from now.
Daniel leaned closer to me. He wasn’t on the yearbook staff, but distributing the Almanacs was one of his final duties as student council president. “No, they haven’t,” he whispered in case of eavesdroppers. “The publisher kept delaying their printing, and after that, the shipping was a total mess. It wasn’t until Swell called FedEx last week and ripped them…” He dropped off to roll his eyes. “Well, you know how he can be.”
“Mm-hmm,” I said lightly. Tag was an Edible Arrangement of many things, and when the situation called for it, “ballsy” and “unyielding” were two of them. He was only the Almanac’s assistant photo editor, but naturally he’d been the one to get the whole clusterfuck straightened out.
Daniel kept talking about the yearbooks, about how the editor in chief was so relieved and proposed they crack open a box for a preview, but Daniel said no because…
I didn’t realize I was tapping my fingers on the table until Daniel had put his hand over mine. “Hey, what are you thinking about?” he asked.
“The piano,” I answered, blinking a few times.
Daniel cocked his head. “I didn’t know you play piano.”
“A little.” I shrugged. “But not very often, and not very well.” I wriggled my hand out from under his so I could reach for my brownie. Tag had never stopped my mindless tapping. Instead, his left hand joined my right so that it looked like we were one person playing the invisible keys. “What’s the song?” he’d ask, grinning and trying to match my rhythm.
It usually ended with us slowing way down and trying to tap out “Hot Cross Buns” together. “You guys should take that on the road,” Alex would say dryly from across the lunch table. “Tickets would sell out in seconds.”
Then we’d all laugh, and I would tell Tag what was bothering me. I told him everything until last year, because what was bothering me then was him.
Him and them. All the girls who woke up one day and decided they were madly in love with Taggart Matthew Swell and would stop at nothing to get him, even though he was mine. Instead of having him, I suddenly had to compete for him.
Or that was what it had felt like, at least.
I unwrapped the brownie and inelegantly shoved half of it into my mouth. Late-night Leda-style. Daniel circled back to the Almanacs. “But Manik and I did end up opening one box and scanning the superlatives,” he admitted with a sly smile. “You won a few, FYI.”
“Really?” I asked through my brownie, curiosity piqued. “Which ones?”
“Favorite Fac Brat.”
I swallowed. “That’s because I’m the only senior fac brat. The male fac brat column is blank, right?”
Daniel nodded, then made everything so much better by saying, “Teacher’s Pet.”
“Super,” I mumbled.
“I got Teacher’s Pet too,” Daniel said, obviously thrilled about it. “You’re also Everyone’s Friend.” He chuckled. “Oh, and Best to Bring Home to Your Parents.” He gulped some soda. “Quite the roundup.”
Yeah, I thought, my blood suddenly burning through my veins. Quite.
There was no choice but to devour the other half of my brownie. It was my only option. Favorite Fac Brat? Teacher’s Pet? Everyone’s Friend? Best to Bring Home to Your Parents?
The theme was really fucking clear here. I was nice, well-liked, respected, and polite.
But I was also a goddamn Goody Two-Shoes.
After classes that afternoon, I went straight home. Won’t be back until after dinner, my mom had texted earlier. Have a department meeting and then will probably stay to draft some exams.
Meh, I replied.
Bleh, she countered, and understandably so. Writing exams was no fun, but I was relieved to have our house to myself for a while. I’d had a one-track mind since lunch with Daniel and didn’t want anything or anyone to interrupt my racing thoughts. I was so distracted that I’d accidentally left my umbrella behind in the English building and was soaking wet by the time I walked into my bedroom. It was now absolutely pouring outside. The ocean waves were churning like my stomach.
“Okay,” I said to myself as I sat down at my desk and fired up my laptop. “Okay, here we go…” I opened a new Chrome window with one hand while using the other to fumble through my desk’s top drawer. My pruned fingers tingled when they found my taped-together prank summons. The twenty-four-hour clock was rapidly winding down, and my confidence would soon do the same.
Email TheJesterXXIII@gmail.com with your answer, I read for the hundredth time, noting the Roman numerals. XXIII—or in other words—twenty-three. How formal, how old-fashioned. How Alex. Before dashing off a response, I logged out of LHopper@ames.edu and decided to create another account—just to ensure there wouldn’t be an electronic paper trail leading back to me.
Several email creation attempts later, bells_whistles82@gmail.com was born. Alex was our Jester, and I was one of his bells and whistles. Ready and willing to help pull off his master plan, ready and willing to help him entertain.
I can’t believe I’m doing this, I thought with gritted teeth.
To: TheJesterXXIII@gmail.com
From: bells_whistles82@gmail.com
Subject: Answer to your disturbing ransom note
Hi,
Yes, I’m in…as long as we aren’t wearing those stupid jingly hats.
- Lily
I shut my eyes and hit Send, then opened them and stared at the screen for a good while. I even clicked to refresh my empty inbox, although when no response appeared, I admitted defeat and went to take a hot shower.
It wasn’t until I was in dry clothes and about to reheat leftover chili that my phone lit up with a new email. I’d made sure to log in to my new account.
To: bells_whistles82@gmail.com
From: TheJesterXXIII@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Answer to your disturbing ransom note
Lily,
Welcome. No, we won’t be wearing festive hats (they’re NOT stupid). I thought about it, but unfortunately, they make noise, and we want to avoid noise.
Yours with merriment,
The Jester
PS: Please do not diss your invitation. Each one took a lot of time and patience to make. Crafting skills at their finest, no?
I rolled my eyes. Alex.
Who else is in on this? I asked.
Please not Blair Greenberg, please not Blair Greenberg…
A new email appeared within a minute.
Hard to say, he said. Not every fool has answered yet.
That was surprising. I’d thought for sure I’d be the last to respond. Alright… I typed. What are we doing then?
Oh, that’s confidential.
My thumbs flew frustratedly across my screen. But your note said that if we said yes, we should expect further instructions!
Yeah, the Jester wrote. FURTHER instructions. Not IMMEDIATE instructions.
I stirred the chili on the stove top. Same thing.
Are they, though? came his response when the chili had begun to simmer, and I saw that he’d included definitions for “further” and “immediate.”
The tips of my ears prickled, suddenly unsteady. The two words weren’t synonyms, but of course I’d known that. What was throwing me off was the message itself. It didn’t read like Alex. He wasn’t…a dork. Or at least a dork who used the dictionary.
Alex isn’t the Jester, I realized. It was someone else.
Pulse pounding, I took a few steps back from the stove to lean against the kitchen’s small butcher-block island.
I hate you, I wrote to see if my inkling was right. I used to tell Tag I hated him all the time and he always had the same comeback.
I don’t believe you, read the next email.
Tears prickled in the corners of my eyes. Why not?
The minute that passed after I pressed Send might as well have taken an entire day.
Twenty-four hours.
My heart lurched when an answer finally appeared.
Because you’ve got my favorite smile on your face, Tag had written.
Tag. Taggart Swell, this year’s Jester.
FOUR
I didn’t respond to Tag’s last email, and he didn’t offer a follow-up message or any sort of “further instructions.” The conversation ended, so I went back to stirring my chili, blinking away my stupid tears and annoyed with myself that I’d never considered Tag as a Jester option. His other half was the obvious choice—popular, whimsical, and always up for a good time—and I knew how much Alex wanted the title. I guess I’d wanted that dream to come true for him.
And how did I miss it? I berated myself. His Jester email address’s Roman numerals! Tag and I both took Latin; the XXIII should’ve been an easy tip-off.
Ugh, Tag—oh, I could see it now. He too was popular but perhaps the previous Jester saw a little bit more edge in him. While Alex and Tag were both smart, Tag was also clever and calculated. Alex could be too spontaneous, but Tag was his perfect counterpart, a careful planner. Together, no one was funnier than they were. But Alex was a goofball twenty-four seven while Tag could easily dial his humor back and become thoughtful and serious. “That kid is a true leader,” I’d once overheard Josh telling my mom during swim season. “He never fucks around on the pool deck; he gives the meet his all. Hell, his pump-up speeches are better than mine.”
The Jester knew him, I thought. Whoever had tapped Tag knew all this.
I hated that my mind immediately went to the senior girl he’d hung out with last year whenever he and Blair weren’t together. She’d been a star on the swim team and absolutely gorgeous and—
Shut up, the now-boiling chili told me. I moved to take the pot off the burner. You broke up with him, remember? He can date whomever he wants. It’s none of your business.
I didn’t like that my fears had come true. With girls flinging themselves at Tag left and right, spiked vines had tangled around my heart—making me worry that he would dump me for one of them, because he hadn’t exactly been pushing the attention away. “He’s a good guy, Lily. You know he’s just being nice,” Alex had tried to reassure me, but soon the vines had become too tight. Three weeks after Tag and I broke up, he and Blair had been spotted making out near the basketball court after a dance. From then on, he was attached to her or his swim teammate.
Does he miss me, though? I sometimes wondered. Even a little bit?
We’d dated for almost two years. I had been so in love with him, and our memories—even the silly arguments—were like my favorite movie. I replayed them over and over again in my head.
Which, deep down, I knew meant I was in love with him still.
I shook the thought away and ate my dinner alone. My mom didn’t burst through the front door until almost eight. “I am putting on pajamas!” she announced while running up the stairs. “And then how about we binge Criminal Minds?”
“Capital idea!” I replied. Criminal Minds was our comfort show.
