Vicky awoke with a start, her eyes shooting wide open and being met with an action scene her sleep-addled mind didn't quite recognize on the TV. She twisted from lying on her side onto her back, then stretched her arms up over her head and her legs over to the end of the couch with a yawn; her joints making little cracks and pops. "Nnh... Must've been more tired than I thought..."
She reached for her phone, still laying on the coffee table where she'd left it, and picked it up, then turned it back on to check the time. "...Crap... It's already nine?" Vicky groaned loudly, annoyed that she'd wasted pretty much the whole day at school, then sleeping at Timmy's house. After checking the texts left by Theresa, which amounted to little more than her friend questioning where she could get her own Twerp, followed by the goth wondering why Vicky wasn't responding; the red-head stood up from the couch, just in time to hear a familiar 'click' from the front door as it was unlocked.
"Timmy, Vicky! We're home!" The ever-enthusiastic voice of Timmy's mother filled the living room as she and Mr. Turner stepped into their home, shutting the door behind them. "Everything go okay while we were out? Our little angel behave himself for you?"
"...Yyyes?" Vicky, still in that odd state of mind between wakefulness and unconsciousness; spoke in an almost questioning tone, not even having the presence of mind to equip the sweet-talking facade she was so known for. "He and Tootie better not have done anything stupid while I was out..."
As if on cue, Timmy and Tootie came down the stairs together, looking a bit more tired than when Vicky had last seen them, but otherwise fine, making the older teen mentally sigh in relief. "You're home early?" The brunet asked, not expecting his parents to be back until eleven at night at the earliest, knowing them and their 'business meetings'.
"Well, it turns out the spa we were at-" Timmy's dad began, only to receive a swift elbow to the gut from his wife.
"Our- Um! Meeting got out a bit earlier than usual!" The boy's mother exclaimed with nervous excitement, evidently hoping her only child was still too dense to question the little slip by his father. "I- Er... Didn't know you had to keep an eye on your little sister as well, Vicky. You should have said something!" Mrs. Turner remarked in a surprised tone, likely just trying to evade the subject of just where she and her husband had actually been all day.
"It's no big deal. Her and Timmy were just working together on a school project, so they were both perfectly well-behaved!" Vicky smiled sweetly, playing up her loving babysitter act just a bit.
"Well, either way, I think you deserve a little bonus for keeping an eye on Timmy when you already had to watch your sister, so here!" Timmy's mother produced a fat wad of cash from her purse and handed it to the red-head, who was quite happy to take it before the woman came to the senses she probably didn't even have.
"Aw... Thanks! That's why you guys are my favorite clients, and why Timmy's my favorite little angel!" "This is just too easy at times..." Vicky shot Timmy a smile as she pocketed her fee, just barely noticing the slight blush on his cheeks before he looked down toward his feet to hide it.
"Oh god, please stop Sis. My pancreas can only take so much..." Tootie spoke in a sarcastic tone, pinching the bridge of her nose, and eliciting a soft chuckle from the brunet to her left.
"Ah... We'd better get going, Tootie can get awfully grumpy when she's hungry..." Vicky walked by Timmy's parents as they allowed her to pass, her raven-haired sister falling into step behind her as both made for the front door.
"Oh, Vicky? You're still coming over to watch Timmy tomorrow, right?" Mrs. Turner asked, causing the red-head to spin back around to face her.
"You mean like I do every day?" She thought to herself, and was very tempted to say, but managed to hold her tongue, her sugary facade still holding strong. "Of course! I'll be right over as soon as I get out of school!"
"Wonderful! Thank you again, Vicky. We really appreciate it!" The brunet-haired woman beamed at the girl she practically treated like the daughter she never had, a wide smile on her face.
"No problem, Mrs. Turner! You three have a nice night!" The pink-eyed girl exclaimed happily as she made her way out the door with her little sister in tow, and both quickly strode over to Vicky's car and got in. "I dunno if it's all the 'meetings' they go to, or if she's just on some really good meds, but Timmy's mom is way too cheery for me..." She deadpanned as she reclined back in her car's driver's seat, glad she could finally stop acting so bubbly, as it even got on her nerves lately.
"Why would the meetings Timmy's mom and dad go to make her so happy?" Tootie queried curiously as she buckled her seatbelt.
"Because they're obviously just saying they're going to business meetings and timeshare things while actually going to hotels and spas to-" The older teen caught herself at the last second, instantly clamming up as she remembered who she was talking to, and a blush similar to the one that appeared on Timmy's face bloomed on her own. "Y-You'll understand when... You're older."
"Do you actually know? Or are you just saying that thing that adults say so they don't have to have awkward conversations with their kids-or in this case-little sisters?" The bespectacled girl quirked an eyebrow up at her older sister challengingly, the corners of her lips curling up into a confident smirk.
"Yes." Vicky responded flatly, leaving it at that as she started her car and reversed out of the Turners' driveway, beginning the short drive back to her and Tootie's house.
A few minutes later...
Vicky flopped down onto her bed with a low 'oof', bouncing slightly as she splayed her arms out on either side of her; pink eyes listlessly staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom. "Wish I'd brought the rest of the notes with me now..." Her gaze drifted over to her dresser, a small pile of roughly a hundred notes, all from her mystery admirer, all smelling like flowers; sitting atop it. A few of the little slips of paper shared the same scent, but even so, that left her little to go on. All it really meant was that whoever was sending them probably didn't have over a hundred different perfumes to choose from.
"Humph..." The red-head pushed herself up from her bed into a standing position, then quietly moved across her room to the dresser in question, her bedroom's carpeted floor muffling the already low noise made by her bare footsteps. "With any luck, tomorrow will be the big day..." She rifled through the small, disorganized pile, absently knocking a few of the notes to the floor. "Poetry, flowers, and compliments about how I look... Argh... That doesn't tell me anything!" The teen whispered out harshly as she angrily withdrew her hand from the pile, sending a few more fluttering off her dresser as she spun around to face her bed again.
"...What am I even supposed to do if he does fall for the trap?" She threw her arms up in a somewhat dramatic shrug, evidently hoping some unseen presence would answer back. "Rrgh...! Think! Who could it be?!" Vicky angrily ran her hand through her fiery hair, trying once more to will her brain into giving her answers she simply didn't have. "Tch, least I'm the only one who's still up, don't have to deal with mom, dad, or Tootie asking me why I'm talking to myself like a nutjob..."
With a final, heavy sigh of resignation, the red-head returned to her bed and got comfortable, then turned on her laptop, knowing that thanks to her little nap at Timmy's house; it would likely be a while before she could get to sleep.
The next morning...
Tap!
"Nnh..." Vicky turned over in bed, wrapping the covers more tightly around herself as she faced the wall.
Tap-Tap!
"That better be a bird at my window..." She muttered out sleepily, pulling her comforter over her head.
"Hey sleepyhead!" A familiar, perky-sounding voice, slightly muffled due to the red-head's bedroom window being shut, called up from the front yard of Vicky's house, making the teen grit her teeth in annoyance.
Tap!
"Grr...!" Vicky growled out, sounding more like a feral animal waking up early from hibernation than a seventeen year old who didn't get her extra fifteen minutes of beauty sleep. Throwing the covers off herself and hopping out of bed, she stomped over to her window and lifted it open, exerting enough force to slam it against the top part of the window frame. "Do you have any idea what time it is?! The Hell-"
"Seven-thirty." Theresa remarked with a cheeky grin, holding her phone up so the screen faced her angry, red-haired friend.
Vicky clenched her jaw angrily, her eyes glaring daggers at the goth on her front lawn, dressed in torn black jeans and a matching tank-top. She opened her mouth, ready to release a volley of insults that would make the saltiest of sailors blush, but caught herself at the last second, nearly biting her tongue. "Just breathe. This is no way to start a Friday morning..." She counted from one to five in her head as she inhaled though her nose, then counted again, blowing the air out through her mouth.
"Aha! See? I told you you'd appreciate me teaching you those deep breathing exercises-Ah!" The dark-haired girl cried out as a set of keys collided with her shoulder and dropped into the grass, still damp with morning dew. "What was that-"
"So you can come in, seeing as how you're so dead-set on being a pain in my ass." The older teen shook her head as she leaned out the window, a small smirk barely evident on her lips.
"No, I meant why did you-" Theresa asked as she knelt down to pick up what looked to be Vicky's house and car keys.
Slam!
Vicky slid the window back down, closing it with a bit more force than she intended. "Honestly, don't you have other friends?" She shook her head once again and shrugged, doing her best to cover up the fact that she was actually pleasantly surprised by Theresa's impromptu visit. "Guess I'd better get dressed and head downstairs..."
Grabbing a fresh change of clothes, the red-head quickly exited her room and went into the bathroom, sighing with relief as she turned on the shower to find that the water was still quite hot, meaning her parents had either already left for the day a while ago, or hadn't even gotten up yet.
"Hm..." Vicky hummed in thought as she stripped off her clothes from the night before and stepped into the shower. "What is she doing here anyway? She usually only comes over after school, and she's always complaining about not getting enough sleep, so why...?" Figuring she'd find out the reason for Theresa's visit soon enough, Vicky grabbed her bottle of shampoo and lathered the greenish goop into her hair, then rinsed it out and made quick work of washing the rest of her body.
As she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower to begin drying herself off, the importance of the day-as well as the possible reason for Theresa's otherwise random visit-occurred to the pink-eyed girl: Assuming today would play out like every other day, her secret admirer would soon be leaving her a note in her locker, one that required he or she open it this time, if they wanted to leave said note.
A certain... Excitement came with this realization. A feeling that made her... Almost giddy! Vicky promptly dried herself off completely and threw her clothes on with renewed vigor, before brushing her teeth and darting out of the bathroom to retrieve her backpack from her bedroom.
Meanwhile, downstairs...
Theresa sat at the Valentine's dinner table, having helped herself to a bowl of cereal that amounted to marshmallows, sugar, some kind of strangely shaped wheat that was the actual cereal, and sugar. The sound of rapid, rushing footsteps made her tilt her head up toward the ceiling and wonder if she'd ever heard her friend move about so quickly before. That wasn't to say Vicky wasn't fit(somehow), but Theresa honestly couldn't remember a time before now when she'd heard the red-head sound so motivated.
It wasn't long before she heard footfalls on the stairs, which were soon followed by their source entering the room, looking... Pretty much the same as she always did. Green, midriff-baring t-shirt, black jeans and sneakers, bright red hair done up in a ponytail, lips shining with a bit of- "Are... Are you wearing lip gloss?"
Vicky responded with a steely glare, clearly meant to silence any questions the goth had about her appearance.
"You're wearing lip gloss, aren't you?" The dark-haired girl pointed the spoon in her left hand at her agitated friend; smiling in a way that could best be described as teasing.
"Are you ready to go or not?" Vicky spoke with a clear edge to her tone, her cheeks taking on the familiar pink color of embarrassment that was becoming all too common as of late.
"Go where? We don't need to be at school for..." The goth produced her phone from her pocket and set it down on the table to check the time. "Another twenty minutes, assuming you're gonna even go to homeroom... Plus, I'm eating." Theresa scooped another spoonful of cereal up out of the bowl and into her mouth, then chewed it slowly as the cheeky grin from earlier reappeared on her face. Vicky was... Not quite trapped, but she certainly didn't have any way of avoiding this conversation, not without appearing significantly less stoic than she fronted, anyway.
"My cereal." The older of the two teens raised an expectant eyebrow at her friend and crossed her arms. "And does it matter what I'm wearing? A girl can't use a bit of makeup now and again?"
Theresa finished chewing her mouthful of cereal and swallowed, then allowed a light chuckle to escape her lips. "You can do whatever you like, Vicky. I just... Well, I find myself wondering, why is my best friend-"
"So we're besties now?" Vicky pulled out a chair for herself across from Theresa and sat down, propping her head up in her hand as she leaned on her elbow, gazing at the girl across the table with feigned interest.
Theresa couldn't help but roll her eyes. Even after just waking up, and at home, away from their fellow classmates, Vicky still pretended to live up to her long ago established reputation. "Yeah yeah, big bad babysitter Vicky... Drop the tough girl act, just for a minute. You enjoy my company, and I know it."
"Hmph." The red-head chuckled somewhat humorlessly, more in admiration of how observant this girl clearly thought she was than out of any sort of amusement.
Still... It didn't hurt to throw the dark-haired teen a bone. Theresa was, without a doubt, useful. And while Vicky obviously wasn't fond of roughly ninety-nine percent of the people she knew, Theresa had made a successful effort to endear herself to the pink-eyed teenager. "...Fine. I can admit that you're... Pleasant company. Having you around means I spend less time talking to myself, and as a bonus, I don't need to pay for a shrink to listen to my problems, I've got you for that." She admitted seriously and honestly, a tone she rarely used with people outside her immediate family.
Once she'd finished, a strange, slightly awkward, but mostly pleasant; silence filled the kitchen, only broken on occasion by Theresa as she swished the marshmallows in her bowl of cereal around with her spoon.
After nearly a minute of this, the goth glanced up from her breakfast at her friend, a rather serious look on her face. "You're not just telling me this so you can get in my pants, are you?"
More silence. The very awkward kind.
A wide grin broke out across Theresa's face, exposing her teeth as her body fidgeted with barely restrained laughter.
"You're an ass." Vicky deadpanned and facepalmed amid the dark-haired teen's raucous laughter, again finding herself wondering just why she was friends with this odd girl.
"Aha! Eheehee! I-I'm just sayin', if there's s-something you wanna confess, now's the time before you make your mystery man at school jealous!" Theresa giggled as she finished, then slurped up the rest of her breakfast and stood up to wash the bowl in the sink.
"And you wonder why I hate being nice." Vicky stood up from the table with a weary shake of her head. "Here I am, trying to have a nice, honest moment of friendship with you, and you're not even taking it seriously!" Despite her annoyed tone, the red-head bore an amused grin on her face, one she was just happy Theresa couldn't see since she was facing the sink. "Leave it. We gotta get going; I'll take care of that when I get home tonight."
"Oh... Someone's excited to see who their little trap caught..." The goth remarked slyly as she filled her cereal bowl with water, grabbed her backpack off the chair she'd been using, and moved to match her red-haired friend's brisk pace as she left the kitchen and quickly moved through the living room.
"Or, I don't want to have to deal with him-slash-her messing up my locker trying to escape. The lockers at school are pretty good-sized, so assuming my trap actually worked, whoever's been leaving me notes should be pulled in by the net gun, and effectively trapped as though they were in an iron maiden... Minus the horrible death spikes." Vicky's tone held a modicum of pride as she shut the door behind herself and Theresa, both heading over to, and getting in; the older teen's car. "Still, if they manage to wedge themselves between the back of it and the door, they could probably force it open, if they're strong enough..."
"...Yeah... I'm gonna go with my first guess, and say that you're just excited to meet this poor sap who clearly has a thing for you, yet obviously has no idea what he's in for..." Theresa spoke sympathetically, part of her hoping Vicky's secret admirer somehow had the foresight to not get caught, for his or her own sake.
Vicky started her car and shifted it into reverse, then pulled out of her driveway before shifting into drive. "He's been leaving notes in my locker for the past five months, and until yesterday, I had no plan for catching him, no idea who it could be, and no signs of that ever changing. Thanks to you and the Twerp, I at least might catch him today, and ask him why he loves to spray all his notes with flowery perfume!"
"The... Twerp? You mean Timmy? How did he help?" The young goth questioned, wondering just how the boy that her best friend loved to torment could possibly help her, let alone be willing to.
Vicky, in turn, glanced at her car's side-view mirror evasively, the grin on her face having faded as she mulled over whether or not she should tell Theresa about Timmy's florist grandmother. Some part of her conscience, unheeded and ignored as it usually went; told her that it would be a betrayal of the brunet's trust, as it was technically something he told her in confidence...
Yet this was also Theresa. While they'd only briefly met on a few occasions, the goth seemed to have a certain fondness for the brunet, and Vicky was fairly confident that she wouldn't make fun of Timmy, let alone for something a bit personal like his intimate knowledge of flowers.
She sighed, realizing they were already less than a minute away from her and Theresa's high school. "Timmy's... Grandmother used to be a florist, apparently. I guess before I used to keep an eye on him... Hell, maybe even after I started, but couldn't some days; his parents used to drop him off at her house, and she taught him a lot about flowers; taking care of them, how they smelled... That sort of thing."
"Okay...?" The dark-haired girl moved her right hand in a circular motion in the air, ushering for her friend to continue.
"Well yesterday, when I was babysitting him, he decided to be nosy and asked about the note I found in my locker, which I..." Vicky let out another sigh, mostly at her own self-perceived stupidity. "Like an idiot, left on the table in the living room for him to notice..."
"Oh boy." Theresa chuckled, speaking in a sly, knowing tone. "Lemme guess, he teased you for swooning like a lovestruck schoolgirl, right?"
Which, much to the younger teen's amusement; earned her another glare, slightly marred by a dusting of pink on the red-head's cheeks. "I do not swoon."
"No, of course not." Theresa spoke with a roll of her eyes. "You just get all excited and put on lip gloss for a guy or girl who might be a creepy stalker."
"Anyway." The red-head glared at her friend out of the corner of her eye, her tone forceful and venomous. "Timmy helped me figure out that the last card smelled like lavender, which is usually used-"
"To help people with anxiety or anger issues calm down." The goth interrupted nonchalantly, as if this fact about lavender was common knowledge.
"How- How do you know that?" Vicky questioned with a bemused expression.
"You don't? People have been using lavender to help calm down for... I dunno, a really long time." Again, Theresa remarked in a neutral tone, shrugging her shoulders as she finished. "But we're getting sidetracked here; it was Timmy who told you this? The kid I've met a couple times who you're always calling the Twerp? That Timmy?"
"Yeah... Why does it matter? His grandmother used to be a florist, she taught him a lot about flowers, so that explains how he knows...?" The pink-eyed teen trailed off as she pulled into her favored parking spot, just in front of the stairs leading up to the high school's front door. "If you think I'm worried about him telling people I've got a secret admirer, don't. He may be Twerpy, but he knows to keep his mouth shut, lest I make his life even more miserable." Vicky lied, the reality of her babysitting relationship with Timmy being that she simply made sure he did his chores, then allowed him to do as he pleased, for the most part. All because she made a promise to Tootie to try to be a little nicer, since the brunet was her friend. Gone were the days where she'd threaten him with various blunt or sharp objects, blackmail him into being her slave, or just outright be unpleasant toward him for kicks. Though that wasn't to say she looked back on those days fondly, either. It was more along the lines of indifference now.
"...don't find that- Vicky? Vicky!" Theresa snapped her fingers in front of the red-head's face, rousing her from her reverie.
"Hm?" Vicky turned toward her goth friend, shooting her a questioning look as her eyes readjusted to reality. "What? You say something?"
"Jeez, maybe I should've let you get your extra fifteen minutes of sleep after all. You're drifting off to Wonderland here!" The dark-haired girl chuckled, giving Vicky's shoulder a gentle shove.
"Ugh..." The older teen yawned, then attempted to blink away the sudden feeling of tiredness that came over her. "Probably wasn't the best idea to skip breakfast either... So, uh... What... Were you saying?"
"Um..." Theresa held her chin in thought, before snapping her fingers as the memory returned to her. "Oh! About Timmy..."
"You can't have him. I have full ownership of the Twerp. He's mine." Vicky remarked deviously, bearing a grin that matched the tone of her voice.
"Eheh... Right..." Theresa tapped her fingers together and looked down at her lap awkwardly. "Which... Kinda makes this a bit weirder to ask, but..." She trailed off, her voice dropping to a murmur in volume. "You don't... Think it's a little... Coincidental that Timmy knows a lot about flowers, and was willing to help you on a whim?"
"...Not really, no. He's... He's a good kid at heart. A lot nicer than someone who's had me as a babysitter probably should be. Much as my sister used to drive him up a wall with her crazy obsession with him, he still has no problem just being her friend, and even with how much of a bitch I can be, he never really... Seems to hold it against me, I guess." Vicky chuckled to herself, realizing she found Timmy's naivete to be pretty endearing, in a way. Possibly even cute, though she'd never admit it to anyone, and would swear up and down to her grave that it was a lie if someone ever heard her say it.
"Really now? And even that doesn't make you a little suspicious?" The goth stared at her friend with a look of clear disbelief. Vicky was smart, deviously so, not to mention observant, and was seemingly able to think up a solution for most problems in little time as well; yet at the moment, Theresa couldn't quite believe Vicky was so dense! She was nearly positive the red-head was messing with her.
"Suspicious of what? And what exactly seems coincidental? You lost me here." The older teen frowned, her expression sowing obvious signs of bewilderment at what her dark-haired passenger was saying.
"Vicky. Seriously? Your secret admirer leaving you flowery-smelling notes? Timmy knowing about flowery smells? And helping you despite you being his 'evil' babysitter? Or how about how all the notes have been really sweet, and Timmy doesn't hold a grudge for-and pardon me for saying-the bullshit you've put him through?" As she spoke, Theresa counted off each item on her fingers, her voice growing more and more disbelieving in tone as she went on. "Like come on! How are you not seeing this?!"
In truth, the red-head was indeed seeing her friend's point, she just wasn't insane enough to believe it, and deadpanned once the girl finished. "You think Timmy's been leaving me the notes? What the Hell are you on? ...And can I get some?"
"You're seriously in denial about this." The girl remarked flatly, lips forming a thin line as she offered Vicky a deadpan expression of her own. "Think about it though, and I mean seriously. You said yourself that you had no idea who it could be, since pretty much everyone in our school knows what you're like. Timmy and the person leaving you notes both know a fair amount about flowers and the notes clearly indicate that this person knows you on a personal level; enough to know what you look like, and your general attitude toward... Well, most people..." Theresa shrugged, taking a moment to organize her thoughts and allow some air back into her lungs.
"Pfft... That doesn't mean a damn thing. First, Timmy's eleven; plus, while you're right that he knows me pretty well, that means he knows I'm not exactly the most pleasant person to be around. Why would the Twerp, of all people, have a crush on his-and I'm quoting him here-evil babysitter? I know I've had an effect on him, but what you're talking is like... Stockholm's Syndrome or something, or at the very least, some very poor survival instincts." Vicky felt another surge of energy flow through her as she finished, and moved to grab her backpack from the backseat of her car. "Now c'mon, you're gonna be late for class, and I'm eager to prove you wrong and show that whoever is in my locker, isn't the Twerp!" The red-head shoved open the driver side door and stepped out of her car, shutting it behind her as she heard a similar sound from the passenger side.
"I don't think I've ever seen anyone so deep in denial over something so glaringly obvious..." Theresa muttered as she fell into step next to Vicky, both climbing the front stairs of their high school and entering the double doors at the top. "Don't you realize that if you take the impossible out of this equation, the result-even if it's completely outlandish-has to be the truth?"
"You read that in a mystery novel, Sherlock?" The older teen remarked somewhat bitterly; her friend's insistence on the ridiculous notion that Timmy was the one leaving her romantic notes beginning to get on her nerves.
"Fine, be stubborn..." The goth shook her head, resigning herself to the fact that she couldn't convince her friend without proof; and proof she would have in just a few seconds, as they turned down the hallway that contained both teens' lockers. "How 'bout this: We'll have a bet."
"A bet?" Vicky glanced at her friend with renewed interest. "What kinda bet?"
"Since you seem to believe it couldn't possibly be Timmy in your locker, and I'm almost positive it is, let's have a little bet. I say Timmy's in your locker, so I win if he is; and you say Timmy's not in your locker, so if he's not, you win."
"Hm..." Vicky crossed her arms over her chest as she walked, humming in thought as she considered Theresa's offer. "S'not much of a bet y'know... What do I get if I win?"
"Um... I dunno, didn't really have much time to consider it, this being a spur of the moment type of thing... Whatever you want, I guess?" Theresa's voice contained a hint of uncertainty as she wondered what her red-haired friend could possibly want from her.
"...Fair enough." Vicky nodded her head, finding the first half of the bet's terms agreeable, if a little ambiguous. "And... I'm not saying you have a snowball's chance of winning, but what do you want in the absolutely impossible chance that you do win?"
"Ooh... Tough call... Can I-"
"No, you can't ask for the same thing I did. After our little talk in my kitchen, I'm a little worried you might try to use this bet to get in my pants." The red-head chuckled, a playful grin forming on her lips.
"Darn! Foiled again!" Vicky's dark-haired friend exclaimed in a tone dripping with sarcasm. "Ah... But seriously, how 'bout something simple? If I win, you... Convince the powers that be of our high school to let me have the same freedom to do as I please around here that you do...?"
"That's what you want? ...Sounds to me like you just want more time to hang out with your 'best friend'." The older teen spoke slyly. "If that's all you wanted, you should've just asked, I would've done that for free!"
"Whatever." Theresa rolled her eyes as she stepped over to Vicky's locker, then to the right of it, while Vicky herself stopped in front of it. "We're finally here, so hurry-"
Bang!
Both teens jumped as something was slammed against the locker door from within.
"Gotta say, you know how to build a trap with what's available." Theresa spoke, sounding mildly impressed.
"Yeah, I'm a regular Jill of all trades... Calm down in there, I'm opening the door..." Vicky called out to her capture, rapping on the locker door a few times as she dialed in its combination.
There was a faint click as the net gun's trigger was pulled by the string attached to the door, before the red-head pulled it open all the way, and her captive hopped out, nearly tipping over due to being wrapped up in thick black netting. The strangely short figure shrugged and wiggled about, eventually getting enough of the netting of themselves to uncover their face. "Grr... A frickin' trap?! Really Vicky?!"
Except, much to Vicky's confusion and chagrin, the person wrapped up wasn't a fellow high schooler, Timmy, or even male! "T-Tootie?! What the Hell- What are you doing here?!" She shouted, her voice echoing down the hall, and probably throughout Dimmsdale High.
"Hey Tootie." Theresa waved somewhat stiffly, the confusion in her voice very evident on her face. While it was true she lost the bet, her Friday morning had just gotten much, much more interesting.