The Anti-Prom - By Abby McDonald Page 0,52

lurch of fear, I scramble out and lower myself until I’m clinging to the ledge. The window slams shut above me, leaving me with only one way down. I dangle there, feeling only air on my legs.

“Bliss!”

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

I let go.

“OOOOOWWWWW!”

“Shhh!” Jolene clamps a hand over my mouth.

“My ankle!” I let out a strangled yelp. We’re in an alley behind the building, surrounded by old packing crates and trash bags. God knows what grime I’ve fallen into, but all I can register is the pain shooting white-hot all the way through my foot. “I landed wrong; it must be broken.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Jolene drags me to my feet. “Don’t hang around — we need to find Meg.”

“Thanks for the sympathy.” I limp after her. “I’m telling you, it hurts.”

“And I’m telling you, there’s nothing I can do until —” There are headlights coming toward us. Jolene yanks me down behind the Dumpsters until the car edges closer and we can see Meg.

She leans over and opens up the passenger side. “He’s gone to check on the other buildings.” Meg’s whole face is lit up with excitement. “Get in, quick!”

I stumble over and throw myself in back. Jolene slides in the front seat, slams the door, and soon we’re speeding away from the scene of the crime.

“Did you get what you came for?” Meg asks eagerly. She takes a corner so fast the tires screech.

Jolene pats the canvas roll. “Yup. That was good work,” she adds quietly. “Covering with the keys and everything.”

“Are you kidding?” I pipe up, rubbing my ankle. “It was amazing! Seriously, Meg, that was awesome back there. I can’t believe it.”

“Me neither.” She grins, bouncing in her seat. “I was so scared when you took off and left me. But I didn’t have a choice, in the end. I had to make it work.”

I laugh. “You were great. I can’t believe you lied so well. It’s like you’re a natural.”

“I don’t know about that.” She giggles. “My heart was racing so fast, I thought he would figure it out at any minute. And when he went toward the hallway!” She gasps. “I don’t know how you do it, Jolene, I just don’t. Isn’t your blood pressure through the roof?”

Jolene shrugs, slumping back. “No.”

We drive for a while, heading back toward the inhabited part of town. Soon, we’re crossing through quiet residential streets, the golf course up on the ridge ahead. “So where now?” Meg looks around. “What’s next?”

“Umm . . . that’s it, I think.” I pause. “Jolene?” There’s no reply, so I reach forward and prod her shoulder. “Jolene?”

“Huh? Oh. I’m done.” She rests her head against the glass. “You can drop me up by Union Ave.”

“You’re sure?” Meg sounds disappointed. “We could go get some food or something. Celebrate?”

“No,” Jolene snaps. “I got what I wanted. I’m out.”

“OK.” Meg is quieter now. “And you’re going to Brianna’s party, right, Bliss?”

“Umm, I guess.” My ankle is still aching, and the pain is only getting worse. I try to ease my sandal back on, but just the pressure of my straps makes me wince in pain. “Does this look right to you guys?” I stretch it out between the two front seats, angling to get a better look.

Meg gasps. “What did you do?”

I gulp. In the dashboard light I can see it’s red and swollen, the skin around the bone swollen up in a massive knot. “See?” I tell Jolene. “I told you I broke it!”

“I don’t think so.” Meg frowns. She pulls over to the side of the road and gently takes my foot in her hands. “Does this hurt?” She presses lightly.

“Yes!” I yelp.

“How about this?”

“Uh-huh.” I sniffle, wondering how she’s such an expert. “I’m going to need one of those casts, aren’t I? And crutches.”

“I think it’s only sprained.” Meg gives me a sympathetic look. “But you need to get it wrapped up properly. We can swing by the hospital. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Can you drop me first?” Jolene interrupts. “I told you, I’m done.”

I can’t believe her. “Seriously? I’m injured here!”

“And?” Jolene looks sullen. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“But, show some moral support,” I protest. “I took one for the team.”

“You took one because you insist on wearing those stupid shoes,” Jolene snaps back. “So I don’t get why I need to stand around watching you get an X-ray, or whatever. I did my part of the deal — I got you the diary, and now I have my