Closer Than We Thought
Chapter 6: Ducks Fly Apart

*****

"All right. We have to get into the Varsity dorms, that might present a problem. We'll need a lookout. Cowboy, that's you. Borrow one of the horses from the equestrian team and rope any Varsity goons you happen to see prowling around."

Cowboy flashes me a sharp salute. "Yes sir!"

Dinner last night was wonderful. Until, at least, Varsity decided to bail and make us pay, so we got stuck at the restaurant washing dishes until midnight. Charlie's spent today alternately raging against Riley, raging against Banks, raging against Orion, and telling us we have to get revenge. Revenge, of course, is precisely what we're plotting here.

The planning fell to Russ and I. Maybe because we masterminded the liquid nitrogen operation, well, as much as that spontaneous mess could be masterminded. In any case, that's why we're pacing in front of the rest of the Ducks like soldiers giving the new recruits an important training lesson.

Russ takes over for me. "We'll need two other lookouts, to watch for the official prep-types. Don't need them gettin' roped. Also, they'll be watchin' the inside of the dorm through the windows, to help the main team get where they need to be. Connie, Guy, that's your job."

They exchange glares. They broke up after our game against Blake, but that's a total secret, which is why the whole team knows about it. "All right," Guy answers at length.

"Team A, hereinafter referred to as the Quacks," I'm forced to pause by a round of snickering as Russ glares at me, "will be Russ, Charlie, and Fulton." Said Ducks snap to attention. So do the rest, because they know we're finally going to tell them what the plan is. "You've got the most dangerous mission," I warn, enjoying the suspense. "You'll be sneaking into Dean Buckley's office—don't worry, Russ is an expert at picking locks."

Russ raises his hands to acknowledge imaginary applause. "We're gonna be borrowin' a hundred or so of his fire ants," he explains. "Team B, who we're gonna call the Flaps—" I glare at him, and everyone laughs again. "—is everyone else, and they'll be responsible for gettin' said ants into the Varsity beds."

Cheers and laughter ring through the room as the Ducks head out the door.

*****

I'm slightly annoyed to be spending a perfectly good Sunday night sabotaging Varsity. Russ and I were supposed to be going to a movie tonight, after all... but our loyalty to the team came first.

That's okay, I guess. We can reschedule but...

In my irritated thoughts, I accidentally manage to step on Averman's head, instead of his shoulders where I'm supposed to be standing. "No big deal, just my face," he cracks.

"Sorry," I hiss, and return to work. Standing on a teammate with a fishing pole stuck over the door to a Varsity room is not a good place to get lost in thought. Not at all.

"Just a little to the right," Connie's voice comes through the radio. "No, not quite that much... okay, perfect!"

I drop silently to the floor and tape down the tube I was guiding into the room. If our planning was correct, it's on one of the Varsity jocks' beds.

Russ's group comes in just as we finish setting up. "Didja get em?" someone asks.

"Only a couple..." Charlie says, holding up a jar. "...hundred."

We pour the ants into the tubes, with muffled laughter. Now we just have to wait...

The radio crackles. It's Dwayne. "We got a stray calf out here, roped up nice and tight. How're ya'll doin' in there?"

"Not bad," I assure him. "Who's the victim?"

"Cole."

We exchange high-fives. "Nice work, Cowboy! The ants are released, so we'll be out soon. You might want to get that horse back where it belongs."

"Right."

That's when we hear the screams.

We've got the doors tied up so they can't get out of their rooms, but we can tell from the banging that they're making an attempt. "Go on, let 'em out," Charlie instructs Julie, who's holding the rope. I want to point out that Russ and I are in charge of this operation, would he stop telling everyone what to do, but the Cat complies.

Varsity spills out of their rooms, howling and scratching and covered in ants. I seek out Banks, and one look assures me I'm dead as you please in biology tomorrow. That's okay. I turn my attention to Riley, who's yelling at Charlie.

"You think you're funny, huh? You think you've won the game? You're just white trash!"

I smirk as Russ gets in his face. "Who're you callin' white trash?"

"We'll take you any time, any where," Charlie offers.

"Tomorrow!" Riley yells. "Dawn!" With that, Varsity takes off.

We stand there laughing for a minute or two, until Cole's voice echoes down the hall. "I'm gonna kill you guys!"

"Uh oh..."

"I think it's probably time to leave."

We're gone.

*****

"And get those Duck jerseys off. Now."

The game didn't go so well. I'd lost track of the score by the time Banks and Charlie got into a fight near the Warrior goal, which turned into a full-scale war, which Coach Orion broke up. And now he wants us to give up our jerseys.

"Come on, let's go, take them off!"

We do. But not all of us. I've got a sick feeling that this won't be pretty...

"You've got two choices, Conway," Coach announces, confirming my thoughts. "Take off the jersey right now or you don't play."

"You're breaking up the best thing any of us ever had," Charlie retorts. I'm immediately annoyed. I know he's just trying to keep the Ducks from ending, but who does he think he is speaking for the whole team like that!

"Well, it's time to grow up."

"Grow up? Like you, huh... a washed up pro who has to show off to a bunch of kids? Geez, that's real grown up."

I flinch involuntarily. Charlie's done some not-too-bright things lately, but that was just plain stupid. Orion isn't amused either. "Okay, goodbye Conway." Charlie skates past, glaring. Another surge of anger hits me. Right, Charlie, just walk on out, bail on us because you can't contain your ego, way to go captain... "Anyone else?"

Fulton wordlessly exits the rink. "Okay, goodbye Fulton." He looks around at us. "No one's forcing any of you to be here. It's your lives. You decide what to make of them. ...Okay. 20 laps, then hit the showers."

Russ skates up to me. "That went well."

"I'm going to talk to Charlie." It comes out as sort of a half growl, half hiss, and he looks startled. "He's the one who got us into this and he's not just waltzing out now that things aren't going his way."

"Calm down. He'll be back. Give it time."

I guess he's right. My mind drifts to our cancelled date last night, and my impending death in biology in a matter of hours. "What do you say we catch that movie tonight?"

"Sounds like a plan."

*****

I'm all ready to die, but Banks doesn't show up in biology. I wouldn't dwell too much on it, except that it means I only have half my project.

She looks at the work I hand her, and frowns. "This doesn't look like a complete project, Mr. Wu," she tells me sternly.

"My partner has the other half of it. And he's not here."

Glare. I cringe slightly, and I'm positive she's gonna give me detention and I'm going to miss my... appointment... again. Instead she just scowls, "Go and get it from him and bring it to me before 5 this afternoon," and moves on to the next desk.

I'd rather have detention. Going to the Varsity dorms, alone, probably right when they'll all be getting back from practice! Just what I always wanted to do. Oh well, I was planning to die today anyway, I suppose I can't complain.

A note lands on my desk. From Russ, naturally. I'll go with you. I flash him a grateful smile. But right around then, a girl walks in with a piece of paper. She's one of the school's message runners, who all the teachers hate because they yank people out of class.

Mrs. Madigan takes the notes the girl gives her, scowls, and announces in an annoyed tone, "All members of the JV hockey team are to report to Dean Buckley's office immediately." She looks at the second note, tells the messenger, "He's not here," and starts passing out practice quizzes.

All of the Ducks... no, JV Warriors... exchange apprehensive glances, then file out of the room in silence.