Flipped Again

Chapter 9: The Deciet of Mr Loski

Juli's POV:

If I had a doubt in my mind whether I was to go through with playing a practical joke on Bryce, it was surely gone now.

I was teeming with rage, only finally calming when I sat at the windowsill, waiting for my brothers to arrive for Sunday dinner. But my hatred for Bryce Loski couldn't seem to escape me for just as I spotted my brothers I also spotted Bryce himself.

What the hell was he doing talking to my brothers? I couldn't bare to watch as they exchanged in friendly conversation, hoping against hope that my brothers would suddenly and irrationally turn on him and finish the job I had started.

But they didn't and eventually Bryce stalked off.

Even after finishing dinner, I couldn't contain my rage. I needed to let it all out. I glanced out of my window again, I knew Bryce was gone, and there was no car in the driveway of the Loski's. Nobody was home. There it was. A sign from God to continue with my plan.

I grabbed my bundle of eggs and slipped into the night.

When I reached Bryce's back fence it was easy enough to climb it. I looked up at the house infront of me. Someone had left the bathroom light on.

I reached the door, and sure enough it opened easily and I was inside in no time. As I crept up the landing, I realised I didn't know which room was his.

The first room I reached was plain and sparsely decorated. The idea that he'd stripped his room of his childhood decor seemed sensible. This had to be it.

Quickly, I set to work cracking eggs and plopping them into the pillowcase. I knew how much Bryce hated eggs. His future reaction made me laugh to myself.

I wanted him to lay on the pillow definitely, and not notice anything before, so I figured my idea of planting more eggs under the sheets would seep through and become obviously suspect, deciding against it.

But I did want to crack a singular egg somewhere he wouldn't find instantly, and causing a smell that would drive him insane. I opened the wardrobe.

Shelly's clothes. The thought of them sleeping in the same room filled me with anger. As I looked around I realised that Shelly had infected the entire room with her own small pieces of decor.

This sent me into a frenzy of manically dropping eggs into coat pockets, shoes and anything else I could find.

When satisfied, I simply tossed the egg shells under the bed and walked out. I had all the time in the world and decided to do some more snooping. I travelled to the room next to me.

It was Mr Loski's study.

I marvelled at the beautiful array of books displayed infront of me, but as I drew nearer I realised to my dismay they were boring, informative books. Not engaging stories.

I sat on his grand office chair, imagining what it'd be like to be in his place. I thumbed the desk and my hand trailed to a drawer.

Daren't I snoop? Well- I suppose it's not like he'd ever discover it, it wasn't like I was going to steal anything.

I pulled it open. Infront of me lay a large stack of envelopes and opened letters. I grapped the hefty heap of letters and flipped it to see who they were from.

Instead I found who they were addressed to, written on the top, and it was not Mr Loski as I'd expected.

To my dearest Juli was written on most of them, and then a few at the end had Dear Bryce scrawled, in my handwriting! What were my letters doing here in Mr Loski's office, and not with Bryce? And what were Bryce's letters to me doing not in my possession? I realised as I flicked through them he'd written for weeks on end, and none of them had reached me.

What's worse was that Mr Loski must've read them all. It had all been a big misunderstanding. Bryce had never stopped writing to me! Mr Loski had just stopped giving them to me! I threw them down, crying now. I had to get out of there.

The first step I took made the floorboards under me creak.

And that's when I noticed gentle splashing from the bathroom. I wasn't alone.

"Hello?" The voice of Shelly called out. "Bryce? Mr and Mrs Loski? Is that you?"

I stayed silent, not daring to move, not daring to breath.

After a moment I could hear movement, she was getting out of the bathtub. Going into her room was the first thing she'd do, so I slipped into the room opposite as quietly as I could, my back pinned against the door and breathed a sigh of relief.

As I opened my eyes something came to my realisation that I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to stop myself gasping.

Around me, the room was decorated as a boy's room. As Bryce's room.

I had made a grave mistake.

"I don't remember leaving this door open.." Shelly trailed off.

I'd planted the eggs in the wrong room! How could I have been so stupid? Not even bothering to check I'd gotten the right place before I happily went about, wreaking havoc to my hearts content.

Shelly shut her door and I could hear the sound of record music playing from her room.

I flew down the stairs lightly, running out to the garden and climbing the fence in one quick movement. I slumped down, leaning against the wall, reaching the ground and wiping my tears away.

Then I saw a van park on the curb. It was old, in bad condition, but with lively stickers on the back windows. It stopped for a moment, maybe the people inside were talking, but then the door slid open and out somebody jumped.

Bryce! Bryce! Bryce!

I screamed in my head. I cowered back into the shadows further as he approached the door and unlocked it, waving one last time to the people in the van, and then walking inside and shutting the door behind him.

I needed to talk to him. But not now, not like this, not as I was.

I stalked home, my mind cloudy with thoughts