He takes me by the hand, pulling me away from the security guard. I stumble back against Oliver’s chest as the security guard lets go of me.
“We’re leaving,” Oliver says.
I look up at him. “But what about Tina?”
“Send her a text,” he says.
Still holding my hand, he leads me through the crowd toward the road where his truck is parked. I look over my shoulder. The security guard is still following us, making sure we’re actually leaving. I send a quick text to Tina, explaining what happened.
The crowd dies down as Oliver and I reach the end of the market. I look back at the security guard one more time.
“We’re gone now,” I tell him. “You can stop following us.”
“I better not see you back here today,” he warns us.
“Aye-aye, captain!” I say with a salute.
Oliver snorts. He grabs the hand that I use to salute and pushes it back down. “Stop,” he says, laughing. “You’re going to make a lifelong enemy.”
“You’re right.” We reach his truck. “I guess one lifelong enemy is enough.”
He goes around to the driver’s side, while I stay on the passenger side. When he’s not looking, I duck down and gently roll the rest of the poppers under his truck so they don’t make a sound.
“Who’s your other lifelong enemy?” he asks when we’re both in the truck.
I’m about to say that it’s him, but there’s something about the look on his face and the way he asks the question that stops me. I think about my answer, trying to figure out how to backtrack.
“Malcolm Ridges,” I finally say. “The guy who got me fired.”
He nods, then turns his attention to the road as he starts his truck. I wonder if he knows that I was going to say it’s him. He puts the car in gear, and as he steps on the gas and the truck rolls forward, there’s a loud popping noise from underneath the vehicle. He slams on the brake.
“What the fuck was that?” he exclaims.
I try to hold in my laugh, but it’s too much and I can’t contain myself. I double over in my seat, laughing hysterically, while Oliver watches with an amused smirk. I can’t speak, so I hold up the empty paper bag that the poppers were in.
“You almost gave me a heart attack,” he says. He’s laughing too, now. “Congratulations.”
“Congratulations for what?” I ask, wiping a tear from my eye.
“You just made another lifelong enemy.”
ChapterFifteen
Lifelong Enemies
Ihaven’t been up this early since I got fired. I’m standing in the middle of a high school football field, batting away gnats. The grass is dewy and my sneakers are wet.
Oliver stands a few feet away from me. On my other side is Lana, the choreographer I hired for Tina. In front of us are roughly fifty students holding a variety of musical instruments. Oliver got permission from the school to allow me and Lana to come watch his students practice and get an idea of how we can fit them into the flash mob routine.
Lana and I watch as Oliver directs his students to form a few rows on the track that wraps around the field. Then he takes a step back, waves his hand, and the students begin marching and playing music. I don’t recognize the song, but it sounds professional. It’s better than I expected a high school marching band to be. Then again, I guess I didn’t really know what to expect.
“This is a great idea,” Lana says. “I’m just trying to think of how I could fit this in with what I already have planned for the flash mob.” She seems skeptical.
“What if the band members could be part of the flash mob?” I suggest.
She brings her hand up to her chin, watching the students with narrowed eyes. “Go on.”
I clear my throat. “One of the kids could pull an instrument out of a backpack. Maybe a flute—and start playing the song that Tina picked out.”
