Chapter 4 Revenge

We were huddled just outside the boys' locker room-me and Sam on one side of the hallway, Lola and Roman across from us, phones poised and ready. This was Lola's idea-classic, mischievous, slightly outdated-but pure brilliance nonetheless.

I held a heavy bucket of egg yolks, which we'd painstakingly collected for the last few hours. The cold hadn't helped much-they were starting to smell awful. Sam stood beside me with a separate bucket, his weapon of choice: flour, with my personal touch-glitter. Revenge sparkled.

According to Sam, Max Stewart always took his sweet time in the showers after football practice. Apparently, he liked to leave the locker room last. That's when we'd strike. Sam had even taken Max's clothes... and his towel. Yes, his towel. The audacity.

Before exiting, Sam left a note that would surely provoke Max into storming out-and we were right.

The door slammed open with a loud bang! and out came Max, dripping wet and fuming.

"NOW!" Sam yelled.

Boom. A cloud of egg yolks and glittery flour exploded midair, coating Max's bare skin.

Click-click-flash.

Lola and Roman were already snapping photos, their phones capturing every humiliating detail. Max let out a scream-not a masculine growl, but a shrill, high-pitched squeal. I instinctively covered my eyes. No way was I seeing that.

"Okay, he's got the towel on now," Sam chuckled, nudging my hands away from my face. Sure enough, Max now stood in his towel, dripping and sparkling like a cursed cupcake.

"You monsters!" he shrieked, his face beet red under the flour.

"Delete that right now!" he lunged toward Lola, but Roman smoothly blocked him, holding the phone up high like a trophy.

"How about we strike a deal?" Sam offered coolly, arms crossed.

Max froze, breathing hard. "What do you want?"

"You delete every post, every photo of Eva and me from Instagram," I said firmly. "And in return..."

"We'll delete this one," Lola finished, waving her phone triumphantly.

"A picture for a picture," Roman added with a grin.

"Fine, just-just delete it already!" Max groaned, clearly defeated.

"We'll check," Roman said. "Once it's gone, we'll delete this one."

I glanced at Lola-who was sneaking glances at Roman-and couldn't help but wonder... did she have a crush on him? I'd have to dig into that later.

We handed Max back his clothes and left him to sulk and probably take another shower. Victory had never looked so sparkly.

Later That Night

Roman's car glided through the streets toward Lola's place. I sat in the back with Sam while Lola rode up front.

"That was the most satisfying prank ever," I said between laughs, still wiping away tears. "I swear, my stomach hurts."

"I know, I'm a genius," Lola declared, flipping her hair.

Roman chuckled. "He looked like uncooked fried chicken."

Back at Lola's, we decided to spend the rest of our Friday night marathoning Teen Wolf. We were sprawled across her fluffy carpet, a giant bowl of popcorn between us.

"The only reason I watch this show is for Stiles," I declared dramatically. "My fictional soulmate!"

Lola rolled her eyes and tossed popcorn at me. "You're just jealous my crush is hotter than yours."

I raised a brow. "Oh? What crush?" I teased.

She went pale. "Wh-what crush? I don't know what you're talking about!"

Caught. Red-handed. Just like a kid stealing cookies.

"Admit it-you like Roman!" I accused.

She sighed, cheeks flushing pink. "Is it really that obvious?"

"As obvious as a clown at a funeral."

She laughed softly, then looked down at her hands. "It's not going anywhere though. I mean, he's older... probably wants someone his own age."

"Or maybe he wants someone real, like you," I said sincerely. I reached for her hand and squeezed it.

She grinned. "Keep talking like that and I'll start thinking you're into me."

"Ugh, stop," I laughed, launching a pillow at her face.

Saturday Afternoon

I was finally home, scrolling through Instagram and other places Max had uploaded the cursed photo. To my relief, it seemed like he'd deleted all of them-every single one. Even posted public apologies. I could feel life slowly returning to normal.

Then my phone rang. Till the Love Runs Out by OneRepublic blasted from the speaker.

It was Stella.

"I HAVE to pull that prank on my cousin next time he visits!" she screeched through the line. "You have to send me that picture."

"I will, but you have to swear-no telling anyone."

She was about to respond when another call buzzed in. I quickly ended the call and answered.

"Hello?"

"Eva! It's me-Lola," she said, buzzing with excitement. "Okay, listen. Brent-uh, Roman-he asked me to a party tonight."

"Ooh la la."

"Shut it! But seriously, he invited me to this crazy house party at his friend's place and I am NOT going alone."

"Let me guess... I'm coming with you."

"Bingo. You have to! What if I get roofied or thrown into a pool?!"

"Can't you, I don't know... decline?"

"No! He'll think I'm boring!"

I sighed. "Fine. I'll tell my parents I'm sleeping over again."

"YES! Come by early and help me find something cute to wear."

"'Cute' won't cut it. It's a party. You need hot."

"Whatever, just be here by 9!"

Later That Night

Lola stepped out of the bathroom, nerves fluttering all over her face.

"What do you think?" she asked, twirling.

"Magnificent!" I said, clapping. "Show-stopping."

Her dress was a deep magenta, hugging her figure perfectly. She wore a long black chain necklace, her strawberry-blonde hair up in a messy-chic bun, and black pumps that added just the right edge.

"You don't think it's too much?" she asked, twirling again.

"No way. It's perfect. Now I have to catch up!"

I ran into the bathroom with my outfit: black skinny jeans, a silver-striped tank top with sparkle accents, and grey heels. I let my hazel hair fall in soft curls and went with soft makeup-shimmer eyeshadow, mascara, and coral lipstick.

"Ta-da!" I announced, stepping out.

"You look stunning," Lola said.

"I aim to dazzle."

"Sam is going to love that."

I blinked. "Wait-Sam's coming?"

"Oh yeah. And Roman says Sam totally likes you."

"What?! No, he doesn't."

"Yes, he does. Even Roman said so-"

The doorbell rang.

"Well," I muttered, smoothing my top. "This night just got interesting."