The Opportunity of a Lifetime

Chapter 17 (Hailey's POV)

Its been about a week since Cher's second concussion. Were lucky the band had a week off from touring just as she went into the hospital. That gave her enough time to recuperate fully with at least one person in the room to keep her company the whole time. The only people who didn't leave at all were Pete and I. Neither of us got any sleep, but I don't think either of us cared. I'd take a bullet for Cheryl. I think I can live from losing some sleep.

Cheryl hasn't had any major mood swings like the last time, thank God, but she has been quite mischevious. She may just be the queen of pranks and I make sure I never get on her bad side so I'm not the victim. She may be seriously clever when it comes to pranks, but I am not.

I lay in my bunk, being blinded by mid morning light from the window. Groggily, I rub my eyes, about to get up, but I see a figure leering over the bunk beneath me, making me freeze in place. Who is that?

I hear whoever it is quietly chuckle maliciously, and for the first time I notice that they're holding something. A bucket, I realize as my eyes focus.

"You're gonna regret putting that Kraft cheese mix in my orange juice, Andy," they whisper. Its Cheryl. The thought of what happened yesterday floods back into my mind, and I have to resist the urge to laugh.

Andy and Cheryl got into an intense round of pranks, and Andy decided to tamper with one of her favorite drinks, orange juice. He found a box of Kraft mac and cheese, using the cheese powder packet as the orange substance in the pitcher, filling it up with water and mixing it. It looked painfully like orange juice, but everyone was in on it except Cheryl, so no one would ruin it. She definitely knew it when she took a drink of the appalling mixture, though. Looks like Cheryl's gonna get her revenge.

By that second, Cheryl thrusts whatever's in the bucket at Andy, soaking him. He jumps up, screaming, hitting his head on the bottom of my bunk.

"Ow, fuck! What the fuck was that? What the fuck's going on?" he splutters, trying to figure out what just happened.

"I just splashed water on you, ya bloody bollock."

"Bollock?" Andy questions, rubbing his head where he hit it.

"Its a barmy testicle, Andy."

"Your British is coming out," Pete yawns, climbing out of his bunk and making his way over to them, grinning at Cher.

"It usually happens when she gets worked up," I chime in, earning a glare from Cheryl. Uh oh. Mood swing.

"I am not worked up," she protests.

"Sure, sure." I smirk, raising my hands in mock surrender.

The whole time, Andy has sat there glaring at Cheryl. She snickers.

"C'mon, you had it coming."

He crosses his arms, sticking his tongue out at her childishly. She walks away, and Andy flips her off to her back.

I glance around, noticing Pete went back to his bunk. Patrick is still asleep, and Joe is fast asleep and snoring with his butt up in the air. I chuckle. Then I get an idea. Andy and Cheryl are not going to be the only prankers on this bus.

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A half hour later, I'm sitting beside the toilet, wrapping plastic wrap over the hole that you pee in, making sure it's pulled tight so you can't see it. Then I close the lid and flush the toilet as if I was just using it, and saunter back to my bunk, feeling pretty damn proud of myself. Whoever goes in there's gonna be pissed. (See what I did there?)

I impatiently lay there, messing around on my phone, when I hear the bathroom door creak open. My head whips around to see Joe stumbling in the bathroom, scratching his head and yawning. Oh, yes. Joseph Trohman is the perfect victim for this. I psychotically laugh in my head.

I think I'm getting a little too overexcited about this.

I sit and wait, trying to listen as hard as I can, when I hear a confused gasp, followed by some pretty exotic cuss words. I cover my mouth so I don't burst out laughing.

"What the shit is this fuck?!" Joe screams, throwing the door open and storming out. By that time, everyone has woken up from his startled screams, looking around in confusion.

"WHO PUT PLASTIC WRAP ON THE TOILET?!" He yells, pointing to the embarrassingly visible stain on his pants.

"That would be me," I laugh from my top bunk.

The look on his face is pure outrage.

"Oh, its on, Hail Storm!" He shakes his fist at me. I smirk.

This is war.