Chapter 7 - "Break It Down"

19.8K 693 732
                                    

         
By: rosesinsummer
Dear—

Screw it. Things are so crazy right now, I can't even muster up enough brain cells to start this imaginary diary entry.

"Banana?!" I exclaim. I could hardly believe that Banana, someone who cried at videos of puppies sleeping, was capable of supporting someone so despicable.

The sound of an alarm clock beeps, ripping through the conversation.

"It's 12AM." Lester announces, clicking off his wristwatch, a smirk lying on his egg-shaped face. "The seventh day of Freak Week has begun. Which means there's less than 24 hours before Freak Week becomes Freak Forever." He laughs a cackle that sounds like he's coughing up a hairball.

A clump of honey hits Lester right in the eye interrupting his villainous laughing. He stumbles backward--then looks up, angrier than ever.

"Why'd you do that?" I ask Mr. Kevin.

"I just wanted to feel included." Mr. Kevin admits.

Rain clouds suddenly pour into the auditorium. A crackle of thunder sounds and a storm begins; Shih Tzus  from the clouds like rain.

"Again?" I shield myself from the adorably lethal falling puppies.

"Awww!" Marmie exclaims. She picks up one of them and cradles it like a baby. "I'm gonna name you salt&pepper, which coincidentally is the name of my mixtape."

"Lester, enough! The satellites were meant to stop freak week, not cause it!" Crush shouts.

Lester laughs once more, "It's too late now, Bob."

Crush turns beet red. "When will you stop calling me that? I changed my name for a reason..." He mumbles.

I turn to him. "Wait, what? Your name's Bob?"

"It WAS Bob." Crush corrects. "I changed it, because who wants to say their name is 'Billy Bob Johnson'. It's so generic--"

Before he could say anymore, the sound of a light piano tune plays as a grand piano falls from the sky and slams down behind him. Its keys scatter across the floor in an explosion of white and black.

I jump to the conclusion. "Freak week...It's repeating?"

A percussion instrument falls and a hip-hop beat starts to play. "Aw man, this is my jam." Marmie says, getting into it a little too much.

Jim shouts, "Catf--I mean, Lester! You didn't calculate correctly! If you don't stop--"

"I calculated everything perfectly. Maybe your brains just not big enough to comprehend it." Lester mocks, "Face it, Ketchupenthusiast29, you were used."

I look to my brother,  expecting him to have some smart-alecky response. But instead he just looks--sad. Anger boils inside of me. I want to go into total overprotective Lace-Bear mode, and slap the smirk right off Loudmouth's rat face. But before I get the chance to, my mouth opens up and I shoot out:

"Listen up you little punk, you mess with my brother, you're gonna get slam dunk'd!"

I freeze. I had just spoken in perfect rhyme and rhythm with the beat. What the Shihtzu?

Marmie jumps up, her eyes brimming with excitement like she's been titled ambassador of Donkey Cheese Corps. "I know what we gotta do, y'all! A rap battle!" The beat gets louder, like the universe is agreeing with her.

"Rap battle--?" Crush's face was paling.

Banana nods, "Rap is the music of channeling emotions."

Freak WeekWhere stories live. Discover now