Glitter and Hate

Forced Vacation

"Time to go!" Bethany said as she threw open Dyson's door a week later. He jumped up, saw it was her, and rolled back up into his bed.

"You need to open a window," Bethany said with her nose plugged. "It smells like the gym."

Dyson groaned and turned over in his black and gold covered bed. "Nobody asked you to come in here."

"Please, if this," Bethany picked up a stray sock hanging from a gold, sequined lampshade, "isn't a cry for help I honestly don't know what is."

"Are you saying my room's a mess?" Dyson pretended to be shocked and clutched his chest. "I'm hurt."

"Such a diva!" She teased. "Now get out of bed and pack."

"Hmmm." Dyson rubbed his chin. "Let me think about it."

"Don't worry sweetie." His mom popped her head into the room. "I have his bag already downstairs."

"What?!" Dyson glared at his mom. "Traitor."

"I'm not a traitor. I'm just selfish. If you leave then I get the house to myself for a whole week. It'll be a girl's night every night." She started to dance around, the light from the hallway bouncing off her bald head. She looked better than she had in weeks.

"First," Dyson stuck a finger up in the air. "I am offended that you look so amazing while you are kicking me out of the house. Second, you better not have a dance party without me."

Then he brandished his third finger. "And third, if I do this for you Bethany," he looked straight at his friend. "You owe me."

"Deal!" Bethany cheered along with his mom.

"Except for the dance party." His mom shrugged. "If I've done nothing else right, I have at least taught you the importance of never passing up on a time to dance."

"Fine." Dyson pouted. "Now leave so I can get dressed."

He listened to Bethany and his mom chatter outside as they made their way downstairs. He glanced out his window to look across at Caleb's room. The curtains were drawn but he imagined they weren't. He knew the room probably better than his own. And from this view, he would be able to see the dark dresser, the door to the hallway with at least fifty different stickers on it.

"What the hell?" Caleb looked at his door. "Dyson, did you do that?"

Dyson pretended to be just waking up as Caleb got up from his bed. Dyson stretched on the futon that they had for when Dyson slept over. He had to stifle a laugh as Caleb got closer to the door.

"Dys!" Caleb sounded more annoyed.

"Sorry." Dyson yawned and stretched. "What's up?"

"This." Caleb pointed to the new sticker on the door.

Dyson squinted. "Good job!"

"Yeah, I can read it myself. What I can't do, is explain why it's here." Caleb turned on his best friend.

"I guess someone thinks you did a good job." Dyson shrugged and bit his lip to keep from laughing. He had been sneaking in for weeks putting different stickers on Caleb's door. He had even gotten Ruth involved so they could appear when he was out of town. Buying the discount roll of stickers had been the best $5.00 he had ever spent. Every time Caleb found a new one he sent a picture to Dyson, demanding that he admit it was him.

"Come on. Dyson, I know it's you. Just say it, please. It's driving me crazy!" Caleb ran his fingers through his hair and glared at Dyson.

"We're still on this?" Dyson asked, acting offended. "I don't even know where I would begin to pull off a prank such as this."