This has actually been done since Friday; I just kept forgetting to put it on here. But it's up now, so... yeah. Just a heads up, this is probably only going to run for a few more chapters. Sorry, but I have to get on with all my other stories I have planned. Most of them are on my profile if you want to take a look. As soon as I finish with this, I'm going to put my other two up, one of which will be the sequel to the first (only getting slightly ahead of myself. lol.). I will finish this though, I can promise that much. I can't stand it when authors abandon their stories without finishing them and I refuse to be one of those people. However, if anyone is interested in adopting it and finishing it themselves, that's alright with me too. I'll stop talking and let you read now. Remember to review!
"Amelia Towers." Ikuto said without hesitation. "Hero-worships her. You couldn't find a better person to pull this off." Somehow, I doubted this would be as easy as he made it sound…
"But in that case, would we be able to get her to go along? If she worships her…" Ikuto snorted into the phone.
"Please. Amelia can't stand her. Chelsea follows her around 24/7, and she hates it. She literally stalks her." Ikuto laughed. "She seriously follows her home. No, she'll be all for it if it means that Chelsea will quit talking to her. Guarantee her that much, and she will jump at it." He said. I considered this.
"Alright, what's her number? I'll call her and get her to go along with the plan. You'd better be right about this." I said.
"I am, I'm sure of it."
"Well, what's the number, then?" I copied down the numbers he read out to me. They were so different from the way the Japanese phone numbers work I had to ask if he was sure he had the number right. I felt a bit stupid when he had to explain that they wrote phone numbers differently in America. The moment I was off the phone with Ikuto, I called Amelia.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Amelia?"
"Who is this?"
"Hi – I mean, Amu Hinamori. I want to talk to you about Chelsea Lovens." Amelia groaned.
"Look, for the last time, I'm not friends with her. I hate her." Maybe Ikuto knew what he was talking about after all.
"No, that's not it. I need you to do me a favor. Chelsea thinks you're amazing. She's also been spreading odd rumors about me. I'm sure you've heard them."
"About you being a lesbo? I don't believe a word of it. She's always spreading crap." Amelia responded."
"Exactly. I need you to pretend you like her so that she'll tell you about herself. What she likes, what she hates – everything. I'm going to use that information to show her what happens when you mess with people and spread bullshit about them." I said. I felt proud of my comfortable use of American terms. Only a few weeks ago, there was no way I would have been able to understand anyone in America. Amelia didn't say anything for a few seconds.
"What's in it for me?" I smiled.
"When I get her, I'll make sure she knows you're role in this." I said. I could almost hear Amelia's smile.
"I'm in."
The next day my phone wouldn't shut up. Amelia had apparently decided to spend her weekend at Chelsea's house and was texting me non-stop with Chelsea facts. She was a die-hard Christian, like I suspected. She liked pop music, the color pink, and fashion. She hated gays, non-fashionable people, and me. And she threw a wicked temper tantrum to rival a two year old. Typical American teenager. This was going to be easy.
Monday morning I walked in to the school and the first thing I did was head straight to Chelsea's locker. I didn't need to know the combination – I stayed up all night learning how to pick locks quickly and without anyone noticing. I waited just around the corner until she had left and walked up to her locker, calm and bored-looking so no one would suspect I was there for anything other then innocent reasons. I managed to get the locker open with a little difficulty and went to work. The first thing I did was empty the hairspray bottle and refill it with bleach. I took a clear, sticky something I found under the kitchen sink and smeared it all over her hairbrush. The dark purple lipstick she had chosen for today? Replaced with grape jelly. Her perfume was emptied and replaced with essence of my dad's old socks.
After first period, I returned and waited for her to "freshen" up. I waited, out of sight, around a corner until I heard her scream. I whipped around the corner and pressed the record button on my video camera. Nobody could tell why she had suddenly thrown a tantrum in the middle of the hall, complete with throwing books, her perfume, and other hard objects at the people near by. Tears streaming down her face, people weren't sure whether to laugh or scream. She stomped over to me when she saw me with the video camera.
"You sabotaged me!" She screamed. A few girls next to me looked positively terrified. I grinned and shook my head.
"Not just me. I had help." I turned to the gathering crowd. "Would everyone please give a big round of applause for Amelia Towers, who this spectacular show could not have been possible without?" For a moment, no one did anything. Chelsea, who had gone pale, started to scream at the top of her lungs. Finally, a teacher came out to see what all the noise was about.
"What is going on out here?" Yelled Ms. Random Teacher over Chelsea's screams.
"She just started throwing a tantrum." Piped up one girl. "We don't know what happened." The teacher looked at Chelsea, who was now sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth and periodically screaming for a few seconds before falling silent, staring out into space with a strange look on her face. I wondered briefly if I had gone to far this time – she seemed to have completely lost her mind, though I had no idea why. You'd think she'd have more sense then to lose it over a few care products.
The teacher attempted to lead Chelsea away, but she refused to stand or walk or be moved in any way. Eventually Ms. What's-Her-Face had to get a few other teachers to come and help her move them. I turned off my camera and made sure the video had saved. That was going online. Amelia walked up to me and grinned. I hadn't even seen her in the crowd.
"That was amazing. Their going to be talking about The Tantrum for days." And so they did. By the time the rumors ceased, Chelsea was a laughing stock. There were all sorts of new phrases about her, including "pulling a Chelsea" and "You're such a Lovens.". Amu knew it was horrible, but she just couldn't help feeling that, like Faith, Chelsea had gotten what she deserved. Maybe that would teach her to stop spreading rumors. And even if it didn't, who was going to take her seriously after that? No, Operation Destroy Chelsea Lovens could hereby be classified a success.
