Alice is drowning, but it's not something she likes to admit, even to herself. She's stuck in a whirlwind of bad habits and bad influences. But on the night of a crazy outing, she meets Erik, who teaches her a little something about the meaning of l...
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"Alright, the key is to aim for the bricks," Erik guides me, the egg in his hand prepared to launch at the dark house in front of us. A carton of eggs rests at my side, my arm hugging it to my hip. After a lot more convincing and scheming, Erik had gotten an address out of me and got me out of the car. The egg resting in my palm is starting to get warm from my body heat and Erik is clearly becoming impatient. We've been standing here for nearly ten minutes as I debate whether to chuck the egg or not. I sure have great reason to. The house in front of us belongs to the Tratt family, but more specifically, the eldest daughter, Mel Tratt. And let me tell you, she is one conniving rat. She made my high school years a complete hell.
Mel was my best friend till freshman year and suddenly, everything went wrong, and she became my biggest enemy. I never did anything to disrespect her but she became the Wicked Witch of Malcolm High anyways and attacked me whenever she found it necessary. I wanted to get back at her ever since, but here I stand, unable to throw a stupid egg.
"Well, since you won't do it - and because you obviously chose this house for a reason - I'll do it myself," Erik convenes and then the egg in his hand soars into the air, smashing against the red brick house with a loud splat. My mouth and eyes go wide as Erik vibrates with laughter then put his hand out, snickering, "more ammo, my lady."
Hesitantly, I fill his palms with two more eggs and admire how he doesn't think twice about chucking them at the house. He takes the egg carton from me and rests it on his forearm, a devious glint shining in his eyes as he prepares to fire. The eggs fly in the air like white orbs and crash into the house walls, staining the bricks with yellow yolk ooze. Glancing between the egg in my hand, Erik, and the house, I begin to think, hey, what could one more illegal thing tonight hurt? So, I raise my hand in the air and throw the egg as hard as I can. I don't see where it lands but it definitely hits something with a loud cracking splat.
"Aye, thatta girl," Erik beams and I can't help a smile creep onto my face, "here, baby girl," Erik piles three more eggs into my hands, encouraging me, "throw some more. Show 'em what you're made of."
At that, I launch those eggs like no tomorrow, the anger and vengeance I'd kept in for so long fuming out. Erik rumbled with proud laughter and watched me with adoration as I went all Rambo on the house. I was down to my last egg when Erik stopped me mid-windup, putting his arm out to stop mine. I copy his intense stare that lingers on the house, searching for the thing that'd made him so alarmed, and I spot it when a light inside the house flicks on.
"Shit, run." Erik hoarsely whispers and we sprint like madmen back to his car, not bothering to pick up the two empty egg cartons on the side of the street. We tumble into the car and before I can even shut my door all the way, Erik's foot slams on the gas and we're racing down the street. I boast with laughter and quickly buckle myself, proud yet still concerned Erik's reckless driving was going to get me killed.
"I can't believe I just did that," I mutter breathlessly, clutching onto my fluttering stomach. This feeling is nothing compared to those cheap drugs. I produced this feeling myself. I didn't take something to make me feel like this and I felt higher than ever, like I was on top of the world. I guess people are right when they say rules are meant to be broken, I just wish I would've broken them sooner.
"I told you it'd be fun. Now, who next? We still got two more cartons," Erik urges, slowing the car down to the proper speed limit. Chewing at my bottom lip, I contemplate who my next victim should be. I had someone in mind but I wasn't too sure it was a good idea. Then again, why would my boyfriend suspect his girlfriend to be the one to vandalize his house, right? Plus, his rude parents need a beat down as well. "Take a right," I direct Erik. Oh, how I'm going to enjoy this.
"Someone's very eager," Erik chuckles as I take a carton of eggs from him and carelessly pry it open. And right Erik was because if I could put a jackhammer to every expensive thing London owned that he didn't deserve, I would, but egging would have to do for now.
It's only a matter of a few moments until I'm chucking the eggs like crazy, imagining they're tiny bombs that are going to blow everything to bits and pieces. Erik laughs like a maniac, not even bothering to throw eggs himself because the damage that I was doing was more than enough. The lying, the cheating, the disrespect, everything he's done to me to break me down to what I was now, an afraid little girl who feared to leave the one person who's bringing her down. It was sad, and these eggs could never compare to that damage he did to me.
Suddenly, the obnoxiously loud siren of a car alarm pierces the night air, snapping me out of my haze of hatred. Caught under my spell of anger, I'd carelessly thrown the eggs and accidentally smashed one right atop a car in the driveway, but not just any car, London's car. Which meant my boyfriend was home and could catch his girlfriend egging his house in a matter of seconds.
"Oh, shit! Erik, run." I drop the egg carton and yank on Erik's arm, sprinting in the direction of the car that I'd told Erik to park out of sight down the street. Now that I thought about it, that was a bad idea on my behalf.
"Why the hell did you hit the car?! I taught you to aim for the bricks for a reason," Erik bellows, sprinting to keep up with me. I don't think I'd ever run so fast in my life.
"I didn't mean to," I breathlessly defend, glancing back and noticing the outside lights of London's house turning on. Oh fuck. "Keep running, faster," I cry, grasping Erik's hand and nearly dragging him behind me. I can not get caught. Not only would London hate me forever, but his rich parents would probably sue me. Prison here I come. I should remind myself to ask Erik how bad prison is after we escape.
We reach the car just as I hear a shout of anguish, announcing that someone had just found the mess I made. Frantically, I climb into the car and hurriedly yell for Erik to, "go!" In a stumbled rush, Erik ignites the engine and puts us into motion while I duck down in my seat. We speed out of the neighborhood and I don't raise my head until Erik insists that we're in the clear.
"I'm not really sure if this is a good or bad thing," I chuckle, straightening myself out, "but you're one hell of a getaway driver."
The beautiful yet devilish smirk arises on Erik's face and his nose twitches with amusement. His free hand comes down to my knee and gives it a gentle acknowledging squeeze. I'd say that he took that as a compliment, and I'd also say there's a whole other story behind why he'd become such a great escape artist. Erik was quite the mystery, and it only drawled me closer to him.
Sliding my hand down, I gently intertwined my fingers with his, knowing the night has only just begun. I was in for one hell of a ride.
