Prompossible Plans

By Laura Pauling

Prompossible Plans: the guys have their say.

Follow Cassidy’s senior year from the perspective of Zeke, Jasper, and Michael as they fight their own battles, make mistakes, and fall in love with the same girl.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura Pauling
• Release date: Aug 22, 2014

Laura Pauling

Laura Pauling writes about savvy spies, murder and mystery. She lives the cover of suburban mom/author perfectly, from the minivan to the home-baked snickerdoodles, while hiding her secret missions and covert operations. But shh. Don't tell anyone.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Summer Before Senior Year

Sometimes, the restlessness just hit.

I’d be rolling along until BAM! The feeling started small but would build in my chest then spread through my limbs. I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t be inside four walls. I needed—no, craved—the breeze, the fresh air, the complete freedom to walk and walk.

And that’s what I would do.

When it hit, I couldn’t sit inside my uncle and aunt’s house. The walls, the paintings, my aunt’s disapproving looks—they all drove me outside. Every night after dinner I left and took my normal paths through the town. The trails through patches of woods. The side streets. The railroad track that stretched behind the mall. Anywhere but sitting in my aunt’s craft room filled with handmade doll clothes.

This one night, I was out on the streets, soaking in the freedom, the ability to wander wherever I wanted. Footsteps sounded behind me, knocking the thoughts right from my head. I walked faster, clenching my fists, pressing down the urge to punch someone if they wanted to give me crap.

Someone whistled, a low soft sound, like a signal. I recognized it.

The hair on the back of neck rose. I squeezed my fists tight. My body went rigid.

I wanted to run.

Just last week my uncle had given me another lecture about keeping clean and out of fights. Said I needed to get under control. He smiled, but the threat was there, simmering under the surface.

A small rock hit my back. More catcalls.

Someone wanted a fight. And I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. The flat roof of the mall loomed ahead. I was so close to staying out of trouble too. I stopped and turned.

I stood with a straight back. Ready for anything.

Five of them emerged from the shadows of a small grove of trees that were part of the landscaping. My chest deflated with dismay. One or two I could handle but not five. I wasn’t Superman. I recognized the one in front and nodded as he approached.

One rival to another.

His eyes flashed, but he didn’t return any kind of friendly hello. You didn’t expect me to forget about this past year. Did you?

The sun was low in the sky behind him and his minions, making the top of the trees a jagged line in the darkening sky. Like teeth. Last year we’d been friends. My uncle said I’d gotten in with the wrong crowd. He was probably right.

The games are over, man. I shot out the truce, hoping he’d take it and we could part ways.

He stepped closer. His shaggy blond hair fell in front of his eyes. He wasn’t some kind of muscle man, but he was lean and strong. The sad thing was that I understood him. And vice versa. We understood crap parents and crap life.

But I wanted a future, and he was still running on rage.

They don’t have to be. His face hardened, his gaze not missing the way I kept shifting on my feet, restless. We miss you. Help us out with one more gig.

I hesitated, the air crackling between us. The rest of his wannabe clones stepped closer, right behind their leader and my recent rival, Tyler. I could take their offer or I could refuse.

But either way I was screwed. The dust kicked up around my feet as I moved forward. They all tensed, their fists ready to fly.

Chill, guys. I’m flexible.

Tyler chuckled, his evil grin spreading ice through my insides. His eyes gleamed as they took me in, studying. He knew I wasn’t in it, but he also knew I wasn’t stupid.

What’s the gig? I asked.

One of the guys laughed and muttered what sounded like stupid.

Tyler told him to shut up. He swaggered up to me and draped his arm over my shoulder. Well, we can’t divulge all our secrets. But you’ll find out. His breath still stunk like the sour cream and onion potato chips he ate as if they were a drug. Love to trust you again, bro. One step at a time.

Soon, we careened down the road in his junker of a car. I needed the right time to tell them this was it. This one last time, and they had to leave me alone. Sandwiched between the guys in the back didn’t seem like the right time.

Each pothole in the road reminded me of all the times I’d ridden in this car with Tyler. I didn’t care back then. This was different. The rock music blasting from the speakers seared into my head. I grew restless, needing escape, needing to walk, needing the fresh air.

Man, I don’t think I’m up for it, I muttered, half-hoping they’d let me go.

The guy they called Rabbit—for his quick reflexes—punched me in the stomach. I grunted and gasped for air, doubled over.

Zeke-man. Too late. Too little, he said in my ear, his gravelly voice grating on me.

When I got my breath back and curbed the desire to hit back, I appealed to Tyler’s logic. I can’t help out much if I don’t know what’s going on.

No one in the car said a thing. Guess they didn’t agree with me.

Tyler drove the streets, his arm dangling out the window, the bass vibrating the car. They whistled at girls walking Main Street like we were on the boardwalk and looking for a hook up. All I could see were the innocent girls out for a walk with their friends, not wanting trouble.

I regretted ever meeting Tyler.

I wondered if this was all a big joke. That after wasting my time, their plan was to pummel me on some back road and leave me there. This was just the build-up. The time left for me to wonder and imagine the worst.

But when the sun started fading and the shadows kept evil intentions hidden, the atmosphere in the car changed. Less chatter. Less whistling at girls. The guys on either side of me tensed, their muscles tightening and relaxing. The smell of body odor, the nervous kind, filled the car. Adrenaline was running. Whatever they were planning, it was close to happening.

I whispered to the guy who punched me. Is this worth it?

Shut up, Z.

That was what they’d called me when I was part of their group. Z. Not Zeke. Just Z. As if it was a code name.

Seriously, is this what you want with your life?

He didn’t respond after that. The car turned down Main Street for the umpteenth time. I wondered if Tyler doubted the plan.

It all happened at once.

Tyler whipped up to the curb. The doors opened and they piled out. The blades of their knives flashed. With jabs and determined looks, they sliced the tires of the cop car sitting in front of the station. With a thrust of their elbows, they smashed in the windows. Alarms sounded. Then they pulled out spray paint and added decoration.

As they finished the job, I inched over to the edge of the seat. The open sidewalk stretched on for what seemed like miles. Most of the shops were closed, but I just might be able to make it to a side street before they realized I was gone.

I slid off the seat. My pants made a swishing sound against the leather. I held my breath and slowly inched away from the car.

Chapter 2

Two feet away, my feet about ready to pound the cement, Tyler whipped around and grabbed my shirt. Don’t even think about it. This is the part where we need you.

Looks like you did a fantastic job without my help. Why don’t you let me go?

Oh, we’ll let you go.

He splashed my shirt with spray paint. Thanks for nothing. Now we’re even. With a final punch in the gut, he took out my feet from under me with one swipe of his leg. The pavement came fast. My head hit the curb, pain flashing. The lights blinded my eyes and a face blurred in front of mine.

Thanks for the help, Z. And with that final goodbye, Tyler shoved the can of spray paint into my hand.

They screeched back into the street and disappeared just as cops flooded out of the station. Or it seemed anyway, because I saw two of each of them, a blurred mass of blue.

I knew why the guys needed me. A scapegoat. If they beat the crap out of me and left me by the side of the road, I’d have visible bruises and possible broken bones. They could eventually get called down. This way I was caught red-handed.

The cops dragged me inside. A sinking realization settled on me. If I didn’t take the fall, Tyler would come after me with a vengeance.

The cuffs dug into my wrists.

The one cop pushed me into the chair. They hadn’t needed to cuff me, but they were pissed off that a cop car was basically destroyed. Didn’t blame them.

I was practically gift-wrapped.

I sat alone in the room for a long time. Their voices outside the door were harsh but muffled enough I couldn’t catch what they were trying to say. I did get the idea that they were arguing about me.

The police station was a familiar place for me. I just hadn’t been there for a while. When I hung with Tyler and his crew, trouble followed us. It was after a break-in at a local shop that my uncle had stepped in and sent me to the Adventure Program at the school last summer. I came in mad and needing to blow off steam, but at some point over the six-week program I’d decided I didn’t want to be like my old man. I came out and entered my junior year with a straight-laced attitude. I lost the mohawk. I lost the tongue piercing. I only kept my lip ring.

Obviously, Tyler didn’t want to let me sail off into the sunset. They wanted to send me off with a bang.

The voices outside stopped, and my heart pounded. I wanted to swipe away the traces of nervous sweat, but I couldn’t with my hands under lock and key.

Out of all people, the chief stepped in, a big burly man, probably an ex-marine. He’d talked to us before. He stood at well over six feet. Not someone I wanted in my face. A scar ran down the side of his face, three inches long and pale white. But that wasn’t what freaked me out. It was his eyes. The hard way they seemed to pierce through me when he sat in his squeaky chair behind the desk. The dark, haunted look that shadowed his face and scared the crap out of me. He knew people. I could tell he knew me.

I had to lie anyway. Had to.

He didn’t check his notes or study my previous record. He just stroked his upper lip as if he had a mustache when he didn’t. My short breaths punctuated the silence. He noticed everything little thing, every show of my nerves. When he finally spoke, relief whooshed through me. It was the not knowing that had been killing me.

Now I don’t think for one minute you were behind the assault on my vehicle.

I almost let out a squeak. They trashed the chief’s car? I wondered if they’d known. Probably. Tyler left nothing to chance.

After spending years in a war with a hidden enemy who never dared show his face, I learned the habits of a coward. He stood, his chair creaking under his muscle weight. He turned his back to me and leaned his hand on the window, facing outside. Cowards fight sneaky. They sneak around in the dark of night. They do what they feel they must, and they want others to take the blame.

He stopped talking as if he wanted me to fill in the details and find the paths his thoughts were going down on my own. His bulky form almost blocked the view outside. There would be no moon, no blanket of stars. Soon it would be just the night, black as tar.

He lifted his hand back to his face, and I could tell he stroked his scar, probably remembering how he got it and imagining the face of his cowardly enemy.

Cowards can be smart though. They plan their crimes to the last detail…even who they’re going to frame. That’s when he turned around. His eyes pinned me to the chair. And, son, I don’t think you’re a coward.

I did it, sir. I hated saying the words. They scraped the back of my throat and left a sour taste in my mouth. I’m guilty.

I’ve seen my share of crime scenes. I noticed the random stripe of the spray paint on your shirt. That was no accident. I saw the bump on the back of your head. Someone put some force behind that shove. I smelled the burn of the rubber and noticed the marks on the road from the car peeling out.

He called in his officer to unlock