Trouble is a Friend of Mine

‘What? We just got here.’


‘That whole cult’s going to be gone soon. If we don’t find out what the hell’s going on now, we’re never going to find out.’

‘I’m not that curious. And shockingly, I’m enjoying myself. I want to stay. Sorry if that makes me boring.’

‘Boring? Who’s boring?’ Bill rejoined us, stinking of cigarette smoke and chewing gum. ‘I’m not boring. I’ll do it. Whatever it is.’

‘You’re not invited,’ I said.

‘Invited to what?’ Felix arrived eating a brownie. He saw my worried face and said, ‘I checked the ingredients.’

‘We’re going downtown,’ Digby said.

‘We’re going downtown? Awesome. I’ve never been downtown. Mom dreamed we were murdered downtown and stuffed in our car’s trunk, so we never go,’ Felix said. ‘We go to Connecticut for excitement instead.’

‘See this? This is a bad idea,’ I said. ‘No, Felix, we aren’t going downtown. Besides, how would we get out of here?’

There was a strict door policy: once signed in to the dance, students could only leave if a parent or guardian signed them out.

‘Mr Talbot let our pothead limo driver sign us in. D’you think he’ll drop the hammer on us now?’ Digby said.

‘Except Auerbach’s doing the sign-outs now,’ Bill said.

Whereas Mr Talbot, the art teacher, played Nirvana during class and told stories of peyote-fueled naked painting sessions in the desert, Mr Auerbach taught government and told us his part-Mohegan grandma still had the scalps of French soldiers in her attic.

Mr Auerbach stood across the doorway, arms crossed and frowning.

‘Kids check in but they don’t check out,’ Digby said. ‘Felix, could you get Dusty to check us out?’

‘Digby … Felix should stay here,’ I said.

‘I’m coming,’ Felix said.

‘Maybe you shouldn’t …’ Digby said.

‘Well, it’s technically my limo, so unless you want to walk downtown …’ Felix said.

‘Welcome aboard, Felix,’ Digby said. ‘Now, can you call Dusty?’

‘Sure,’ Felix said. ‘What’s his number?’

‘Why would I have it? He’s your limo driver,’ Digby said.

‘Dad has it, but I put him in the hospital …’ Felix said. ‘He’s okay, by the way. He texted.’

Digby waved at Henry to come over.

‘What’s happening?’ Henry said.

‘We’re taking off,’ Digby said. ‘Downtown.’

‘I’m in. This dance sucks,’ Henry said.

‘You’re not going anywhere.’ We hadn’t even seen Sloane come up to us. ‘Do you know how much work went into this dance?’

‘Your mother hired a decorator and some movers,’ I said.

Sloane put her hand up in my face. ‘Henry, no. You can’t.’

‘Sorry, Sloane, I’m going,’ Henry said.

‘Fine. I’m sure Mr Auerbach will want to hear about this.’ Sloane stomped off.

‘Dude. Stop her,’ Digby said.

Henry ran and grabbed Sloane’s arm. We watched them have one of those classic ‘darling, please’ arguments. Even without audio, it was dramatic.

Finally, Sloane came back. ‘Fine. But I’m coming too. I refuse to be left here without a date.’

It was getting ridiculous. ‘Really? All of us?’ I said.

But Digby was already planning our escape. ‘The way I figure, they’ll get suspicious if our entire group tries to leave together or if we go out in boy-girl pairs on account of the whole teen pregnancy thing. So, Bill and Sloane – you two go first. Tell Auerbach one of you got your … you know.’

Bill and Sloane looked blank.

‘Your period,’ I said.

‘Yeah, that … and your … things are in the limo,’ Digby said.

More blank looks from Bill and Sloane.

‘Your tampons,’ I said.

‘Will that work?’ Bill said.

‘Look at him. Digby can’t even say it. Most guys can’t. Yeah, it’ll work,’ I said. ‘Sloane should do the talking, though.’

‘Fine. Whatever. Let’s go,’ Sloane said.

As predicted, Mr Auerbach looked disgusted and waved them through.

‘Henry, you and Felix …’ Digby pointed at Mrs Boschman, our music teacher, who was so tiny that pushing even an empty drinks cart overwhelmed her. She and the cart were going sideways into the wall.

‘Got it.’ Henry cut off Mrs Boschman and took over pushing the cart. Then, when no one was looking, Henry grabbed Felix by the scruff and threw him onto the cart’s lower shelf.

‘Turns out, that cape of his is crucial to the whole operation,’ Digby said.

It was true. Curled up in the cart, Felix looked like a bundled-up tablecloth. A brief explanation to Mr Auerbach and they were out the door.

‘Genius. But that leaves us. You boy. Me girl. How are we getting out?’ I said.

‘Man, I keep forgetting you’re a girl,’ Digby said.

‘Shut up.’

‘Kidding. You’re dressed like a cream puff. You are all girled out tonight. I saved the best one for us. You and I are climbing out the window.’