So here's the next chapter!
Chase's Pov
"Can't you just leave me alone?" I groaned again, feeling Bree pulling on my shirt sleeve. It's been a day and a half since I've seen Christine, and you really start to miss your girlfriend when you have no one to kiss in the morning. And Bree pulling and shoving me toward a janitor's closet that even the janitor's themselves don't go near anymore.
"You'll thank me later," Bree said smoothly instead. I was positive she was hiding something-which with Rachel coming up while dragging a squirming Christine behind her, confirmed almost everything I'd been suspecting.
What are you guys doing?" Christine whispered/yelled. "Davenport and my dad have this whole school crawling with bugs watching our every move. Are you two trying to get us grounded for life?"
She may have sounded a bit dramatic, but what she said was true. Ever since the whole parent-hating-each-other chaos the other day, I noticed people I didn't know following me to each of my classes a couple feet behind me and eyes peeking at me from the rim of books, textbooks, everything. No doubt the same thing was happening to Christine.
You never know how much you take advantage of your privacy until you have it taken away.
"We've got that covered," Bree and Rachel said as Rachel made very unsubtle motions with her ponytail toward Adam, who was leaning against a wall a distance away from our group, watching people go by in a very noticeable way.
Suddenly a loud crackle of feedback busted from the walkie talkies strapped to the girls' belts. "The chicken is clear of the coop," Adam's voice said. "Repeat, the chicken is clear of the coop."
Bree rolled her eyes but brought the device to her mouth. "Copy that," she said before placing it back on her belt.
"What does 'chicken is clear of the coop' even mean anyway?" Rachel asked, even though she in on whatever they were planning on doing. "We never said anything about having him saying that."
Bree just shrugged. "It's Adam," she pointed out. "Nothing he does or say makes much sense to anyone." That sentence made a really good point.
"Can someone please tell us what's going on?" I spoke up, gesturing between Christine and me.
Rachel turned to us while Bree threw open the janitor's closet door. "You're just going to have to trust us," she said easily before pushing Christine and me into the dank closet.
I could smell before I saw it. Mildew collected in the tiny corners of the room, and moth holes ate through the old fabric of a recliner pushed into a far back corner. Everything-the rotten oak wood shelves, bug raided buckets, nasty dirt-covered sink, everything- was covered in a thick layer of grime. The air reeked of abandoned cleaning supplies and vomit. A mirror so filthy and unused blended into the wall facing the door. What a lovely place for you and your girlfriend to meet.
Christine whirled around to face the door before grabbing on its rust doorknob and wiggling it. It was locked, although there were no locks on it, so Bree and/or Rachel must've been holding onto the other side while being on guard and alert.
"Let us out!" Christine called into the thin wood and kept wiggling the handle. We didn't get a response.
Suddenly there was a sharp crackle of feedback, making both of us wince. "What's that?" I asked after my dull headache was gone. Hearing a loud sound in a small room with advanced bionic hearing was painful when you're not ready for it-and I was not ready for it.
The crackle started up again but was quieter. I already knew what it was before even getting my answer. I walked over to the dirty sink and picked up the black walkie talkie. I clicked the green button on its side and raised it to my lips. "What's going on?"
As I released the button and held the device in my hand, Christine had already come over and was looking at the speaker as pointedly as I was.
"We'll explain everything later," Bree exclaimed, her voice seeming to echo off the walls.
"Davenport and Mr. G couldn't switch you guys' free period time slots," Rachel added with static mixing with her voice. "And this was the best way to get you guys to meet without anyone seeing; immune to the spy's eye."
I could practically feel Christine taking in a whiff of air before letting it out. "Lovely," she said sarcastically, "I get to meet my boyfriend in a gross, abandon janitor's closet that smells like animal crap. Just. Freaking. Lovely."
A huge part of me couldn't help but agree. We were having this rare moment alone (or alone as you can be with three people able to interrupt you on walkie talkie without knowing what you're doing) and we had to spend it in a rotten, horrid smelling janitor's closet crawling with bugs dead and alive.
"It's better than nothing," Bree said optimistically, trying to keep everyone's spirits high. "And the only thing we could get on short notice. But later we'll explain everything. Promise."
That's all she said before her voice faded into static.
Christine's Pov
In that closet, we squeezed all that we could in forty-five minutes. There was nothing to say because of us missing each other and hating our parents' decision-which we just ranted about before having a very long make-out session to let some pent up anger.
Later when I got home, I tossed my backpack on the couch and face planted into a fluffy throw pillow. Then let out a much strangled groan.
"Hey, kiddo," Rem said as she hung my backpack up, knowing very well that I wouldn't do it. "You looked frustrated."
I groaned again. "I have to meet my boyfriend in a stinky, dirty janitor's closet that smells like dog crap. And if that isn't something to be upset about, then I don't know what is."
Rem let out a mechanical laugh, sounding like a joyous computer hum. "I see those girls are trying to help you," she exclaimed while sitting me up. I just slouched.
"Does everyone know about their plan but Chase and me?" I asked her. Even Rem knew-who else did?
"Davenport and your father don't," Rem informed, fluffing up the pillows my body had ruined with my pathetic face plant. "But Tasha does. She wants you kids together as badly as Bree and Rachel and everybody else does." Her metal hand felt cold as she patted my shoulder. "And I don't want to give away anything I'm not supposed to, but I just you get your Skype together before you a very important meeting."
Rem left me with that, whirring into the kitchen, most likely to start dinner. I took her advice and rushed up to my room. I slammed the door-a loud slam that got a yell out of Rem-and flopped on my bed, opening up my fully charged laptop and logging into Skype.
I waited a bit before a named (RunningStar_9, no one I knew, at least I didn't think I knew) requested me, so I clicked. The window grew larger before I was staring at Bree, Rachel, and Chase.
You're a running star?" I asked Bree, since Chase's laptop's was broken and Rachel had hers stolen from Trina, who hogged it twenty-four seven.
Bree mock glared at me. "Don't judge," she said before smiling and changing the subject. "So, we know the closet isn't the best thing in the world…"
"Understatement of the century," Chase muttered under his breath, making me smile. Bree just glared and continued.
"Anyway, we have gotten the schedules for both Davenport and Grant with help of Tasha and Rem and discovered the have meetings through-out the next couples months, all in between 3-10 and/or 9-12 out of town in the evening." She lifted up a then stack of papers with times and locations highlighted different colors.
I nodded along, everything making sense, until something made me stop and pause. "If Mr. Davenport is your dad…" I started, since that always what I had assumed, "so then why do you call him Davenport instead of Dad?"
Chase and Bree both paused and exchanged sneaky glances that I wasn't supposed to see and blurted out at the same time "He's our adopted Dad!" before looking at each other again.
"Okay…" Rachel and I said slowly, both sounding awkward.
"Getting that out of the way," Rachel said. "The park a street over from both your houses stay open to the public until midnight but no one goes there after seven thirty. So with the in mind, you guys should be able to meet for a little over two hours if you both leave your respective houses at six fifty-seven, no later than seven." She took in a deep breath before motoring on. "Then you should get enough time from seven thirty to nine-thirty and getting to your homes but nine forty-five, fifteen minutes under your curfews. And since you're going to need them from time to time, we have a few volunteers helping out with excuses; like in case Davenport or Grant ask in you've been at a specific place-the library or on a jog around downtown-which you said to them when you're really sneaking out to see each other."
Rachel took in another big, deep breath, before smiling at the three of us, who were staring at her in shock. "Do you know how much of an office lady you sounded like when you said that?" I asked her, with Bree nodding along in agreement.
Our cheerful friend just shrugged as if it no big deal and she heard it all the time. "My mom's a lawyer," she explained. "Public speaking's in my blood."
"So who's helping us exactly?" Chase spoke up. "I mean like Rem and Tasha, Adam and Leo are, but who else is, because Davenport and Grant would suspect something if they were covering for us." He had a good point.
"Sammie, Trina, some of Leo's geek friends, Ashley, and a couple of guys Trina and Ashley convinced to help us from gym class." Bree ticked off the people on her fingers as she listed them.
"And my parents are willing to cover for you guys," Rachel supplied. "Saying Christine hung out at my place studying or whatever."
Bree added them to her list that she had apparently organized on a piece of notebook paper. "Well Romeo and Juliet," she said, looking at Chase then me with a corny smile. "It looks like this plan is officially in action!"
I made this longer for you guys since we've kept you waiting. (Blame my stupid computer for that.) So, leave us your thoughts in a review. :)