Best Friends For Never

Chapter 3: The Troy Bolton Sticker

~Kennedy~

"So, what's your favorite color?" asked Toby as he took a big bite of his pretzel.

"Orange," I answered, my mouth full, "You?"

"Orange," he replied.

"You have a good taste in color," I giggled.

We had ditched dinner after we got pretzels, and we were now sitting on the front steps of the dining hall.

"Ughhhhhhh, I'm so bored," I complained as I stood up just to dramatically fall into the grass.

"Same here," Toby collapsed on the ground next to me.

After an awkward minute of sighing and staring at the dimming sky, Toby turned his head towards me.

"I have an idea," he said.

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"Isn't this breaking and entering?" I asked.

"Nah," Toby replied, "We climbed through an open window, so its only entering."

We had broken into Griffin Stanley's cabin. He was 17, 6'4 and weighed 260 pounds. We were getting revenge on him for beating up Toby last summer. If he caught us we were dead.

"Where should I put it?" Toby asked, holding a paper bag an arms length away. I wouldn't blame him. The bag was filled with some bear poop we found in the woods.

"Um, under the bed," I pointed to Griffin's bunk.

Toby quickly pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit the poo pack on fire. He tossed it under the bed and whirled around.

"Run, run, run!" he yelled. We leaped out of the cabin, and time slowed down, like in a super hero movie. Then we fell on the ground.

"Go!" Toby started to sprint away, but I grabbed his shoulder.

"Toby, it didn't explode," I said.

"I know, but dinner just ended," He pointed at a large group of kids walking towards us. Well, towards their cabins. And Griffin was leading the pack.

"Crap! Run!" I took Toby's hand and we ducked behind Griffin's cabin.

Then I started hyperventilating.

I bent over and put my hands on my knees, gasping for air.

"What did you do?" I mumbled, "He's gonna kill us."

"Are you okay?" Toby asked. He looked a little uncomfortable.

"He's gonna kill us!" I screamed, shaking Toby's shoulders.

"Calm down, Kennedy," he took my hands off his shoulders. Then he took a flask out of his jacket. "Here, a swig of this and you'll be fine."

I looked at him like he was insane. He cocked his head.

"Is that," I gulped, "alcohol?"

Toby started cracking up. He doubled over laughing. Then he fell to the ground. After he pulled his waffles together, he stood up.

"It's not alcohol! It's 5-Hour Energy!" He was still grinning, " If you take a sip, you'll feel great for half an hour and then you'll be fine. It just makes you happy!"

"Oh," my cheeks turned red, "well hand it over."

I snatched the flask from Toby and took an itsy bitsy sip. Surprisingly, it tasted pretty good. Before I knew it, the flask was empty.

Toby stared at me with his mouth open. I burped.

"Excuse me," I giggled.

"You drank it all," Toby whispered. "All of it."