Cupid's Sabotage (COMPLETED)

Chapter 8

Phase two is officially underway.

Well, sort of.

We had to wait for Reggie's mom to come pick us up and take us to our next destination, which was a pain in one aspect, yet a privilege in another. Waiting was agonizing, but without her we would've had no choice but to walk. The strong yearning to have my own car returns. Not only would I be able to go wherever I want whenever I want, but I could totally impress Gwen with it. I could do burnouts, drift around corners, paint flames across the hood, and install colored LED lights on its underside. It would look so cool!

According to Reggie's confidential informant, Gwen and Zane's second stop is at Bill Haley's Diner. I just hope that hasn't changed; otherwise, Cupid's Sabotage will come to a screeching halt.

The familiar squeak of the Malone's Ford minivan shudders through the parking lot and over to the curb where the three of us are sitting. They've had that thing since the day Reggie and I first became friends. It gives the appearance that the Malone's are tight on finances, but that's the only aspect of their lives that seems substandard. They live in a decent house—about as nice as mine at least—and they eat out at restaurants frequently. I don't know why they don't buy a new vehicle; the raggedy thing looks like it will break down at any moment.

"Did you boys have a good time?" Annette asks as we open the sliding door.

Reggie gets in first and moves to the backseat. "There was food, mom. Of course we had a good time."

"I didn't get pelted with poo!" Marcus says, pumping a lanky arm in the air.

Annette stares at him for a moment, clearly unsure how to respond. "Oh. That's wonderful, dear."

I slide in the seat next to Marcus. "Thanks for picking us up, Mrs. Malone."

"You're quite welcome. Now, where to next?"

"Lunch!" the three of us boys answer in unison.

The van lurches forward as Annette steps on the accelerator, which causes the seat belt to tighten over my chest. In the rear of the van, the overhead air vents are broken; they only blow warm air. Despite it being hot outside, the lack of air-conditioning doesn't bother me. Oddly enough, I feel cold. After thinking this over, I conclude it's because I'm still reeling from the loss we just experienced.

Loss.

It's hard not to look at it from that perspective. Maybe I'm a fool for believing Gwenevere was ever mine. Then again, maybe I'm a fool for letting her slip away in the first place.

I pull my legs up in the seat and lean my head against the window, letting my eyes drift from one vehicle on the road to the next. We pull up next to a Fiat 500 at a stoplight. I pass the time and play a game by seeing how many others I can spot. I find six more before Reggie's voice breaks my concentration.

"Okay, comrades. How's phase two gonna go down?"

"In flames," I mutter. I'm done disguising my misery. All I want to do is to curl up in bed and shut out the world. Reggie flicks the back of my ear. "Ouch!" I rub it gently as I glare at him.

"Man up, Christian! We knew Cupid's Sabotage would likely see phase two. It's just phase three we need to avert."

Phase three. The thought of Gwen and Zen sitting alone in a dark movie theater while sharing a bag of Twizzlers gets my heart racing. And all at once, I'm reminded why I agreed to this crazy plan in the first place—to get back with Gwen!

"Fine!" I sit upright in the seat. "What'd you have in mind?"

"Dunno yet. There are no bad ideas here, so come on, spit 'em out." He turns to Marcus. "You got any ideas floating around in that mastermind of yours?"