Being stuffed in a locker might be something most people avoid, but this is a special occasion—that I definitely did not ask for.

And since it's an emergency—plus, I'm the only one who knows my locker combination—it's a perfect hiding spot.

"He'll never find me now," I say, adding a cackle at the end. I'm still rolling around in my victory and laughing like a mad woman when the darkness is suddenly filled with light and an angel appears.

Oh, wait, it's Collin.

Fantastic.

Ｈｉｄｉｎｇ

P𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞

Ｈｉｄｉｎｇ

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

"There you are!" he exclaims. "I've been looking for you like all day. Every time I tried to approach you, you somehow disappear. And when I called after you, you didn't answer. You might want to get your ears checked after school."

"Right after you get your head checked," I murmur.

"Anyways," he continues with a flick of his wrist, failing to notice my comment, "Are you going to the concert on Saturday? You know, the crazy one everyone's talking about."

"Lucas' concert?"

He suddenly comes right up to my face, clamps a hand over my mouth, and then turns around to look at the empty hallway frantically. "Don't say his name so casually!" he hisses.

"Are you like a fan or something?" I question through his hold on my mouth.

"Duh! Who isn't a fan of Lucas Bryant?" He answers, turning back to look at me.

I grab his hand and slowly pull it off my face, lowering it back to his side. "I have one question," I say, patting his hand to make sure it stays in its proper place. "Have you ever seen him before?"

"Well, no," he replies. "I just heard him sing Happy Birthday to the radio station lady person, and then he mentioned a concert so I bought a ticket. I just happen to buy a second one. Do you want to go with—"

"No."

"Why? I didn't even finish—"

"You didn't have to."

I stretch my legs from their cramped position squished against my front and use my bare feet to push Collin back. Once he's far enough away, I jump from the locker and land with my knees bent. Then I fall onto my side with a thump. "Cramp! Cramp, cramp, cramp, cramp, cramp—" I stop when I'm suddenly lifted into the air. I scream and struggle, failing to move my legs to push my carrier away.

"Hey, calm down," Collin murmurs. "People will stare."

I look around. "There is literally no one here—"

"I'm taking you to the nurse's office," he interrupts, setting off down the hall, carrying me like we're a newly wedded couple.

"Put me down right now!" I hiss. I push at the arms holding me, smacking and punching them with all my strength. "You put me down right now or I'm going to call your grandma!"

And just like that, the arms holding me captive release me.

And then I'm falling.

I land on my bottom, and I yelp in surprise. "What the chicken, dude?!" I lean forward to rub the sore spot that I'm sure is going to leave a bruise before stretching out my legs. "At least it got rid of my leg cramp," I murmur. "What would your grandma say about dropping a lady?" I say, folding my arms with a smirk.

I wave to him as he runs down the hall in the opposite direction we had been going. "Bye-bye!"

"Who are you waving to?" a voice questions from behind me.

"Another complete loser," I reply. I lift up my legs and use my hand to rotate on my bottom to face the shadow looming above me. "Did you know that Collin's a fanboy?"

Lucas scrunches up his face as he helps me to my feet. "A fanboy? I really can't see that," he replies, holding me steady as my legs adjust.

"Do you want to know who he's a fan of?" I ask.

"Himself?"

"Besides that," I scoff.

"I mean, I thought it was obvious before but...you?"

"Just be serious for a minute."

"I am serious," he mumbles.

"He's a huge fan of Lucas Bryant," I say, completely out of patience.

"Lucas Bryant? As in me, Lucas Bryant?"

"Is there another?"

"Well, my dad's name is Lucas too so—"

"Did your dad sing Happy Birthday to the radio station lady person and also has a concert on Saturday?"

"I have a concert on Saturday?"

"I guess you just invited me to some other random dude's concert," I deadpan.

He suddenly appears to be painfully deep in thought and doesn't notice Justin sneaking up behind him. "Hey, buddy!"

With a scream, Lucas leaps back and cries, "Who? What? Where? When? Do what? Where? Collin is my fan? Who the what—"

I hit him over the side of the head, and he falls over, ending his rant. "As you can see, you terrified the pants off of him," I say.

"His pants are still on, silly!" Justin replies. "Well enough about scaring people and their pants, have you seen the hype Lucas' concert is getting? I went undercover on one of those teenager talk-to-strangers websites and it was all the rage with them. Also, he hit three million subscribers on YouTube."

I pat Lucas' head from where he sits on the ground and say, "Congrats," before walking away with a laugh.

———————

"I'm home!" I exclaim as I step in through the door of my house.

"Welcome home, Luc—" Emilie begins but cuts herself off. "Oh, it's just you, weirdo. Like hi or whatever." Then she stalks off with the 'Welcome home, big bro!' cake in her right hand as she begins stuffing her face with it. "No use letting it go to waste," she mumbles.

"No dessert before dinner!" Mom yells.

I walk into the kitchen to see what my mom is making for dinner. As I watch her franticly running about the kitchen, I notice something attached to the fridge. I get closer, narrowly avoiding the mother torpedo flying by, and notice that it's a calendar.

One with only one event written on it.

"Yeah, we all know Lucas' concert is on Saturday," I say. "You don't have to get a calendar just to write it down. You can't even go anyways. There are only two tickets."

"It's perfect," my mom says, pausing her hustle to stand beside me and face the calendar. "One for me and one for Betsy."

"Who's Betsy?"

"She's my friend."

"Since when do you have friends?" I turn and narrow my eyes at her suspiciously.

"How rude to say to your mother," she returns curtly, wiping her hands on her apron. "I do have friends. And we're going for a mom's night out." She knits her fingers together and her eyes sparkle. "A much-deserved break."

"You can have Emilie's ticket, but you can't have mine. I promised Lucas I would go."

"Oh come now, just do this tiny little favor for your mother!"

"What do I even get in return?"

"I give you a bed to sleep on, a roof over your head, and food to give your growing body. You can't do this one little thing for your dear mother?"

"You don't work to buy that stuff, Mom, Dad does." I fold my arms.

"Then do it for your dad."

"Why do you want to go anyways?" I question.

"To shove it in that loser Maddy's face when I get to go to the concert that's been sold out for months, and she's stuck at home watching looney tunes," my mom mumbles to herself. "Sweetheart, it doesn't matter why I want to go," she says in a louder voice that is obviously the only one she wanted me to hear. "It just matters that I do. So what do you say? I've already told Betsy we're going."

"Then tell her you lied. Or you canceled. It doesn't matter because I'm not giving up my ticket."

"Oops! Too late!" my mom exclaims with a laugh, whipping out two Lucas Bryant tickets from her pocket. "I swiped them when you were off at school. You shouldn't leave your valuables out in the—"

"I'll take those!" Emilie says, plucking the tickets from her hands.

"Emilie...thank yo—"

"Harper and I are going to have so much fun at the concert," she interrupts me happily. "Harper's my new bestie if you didn't know."

"What happened to Brook?" I ask, giving her a funny look.

"She was a loser, so I un-bestied her."

Is that a thing?

"I don't care about your friend problems, just give me my ticket back," I say before yanking them from her hand. I hold it high above me, out of reach from her clawing hands.

Suddenly, they're gone from my grasp. I turn around and see Mom holding them up behind me. She turns them into a fan and holds them to her face.

Then a hand reaches around and swipes them away. I look up and see Mia, looming above us three with the tickets dangling from the palm of her hand.

"Did you like get a growth spurt or something?" I question skeptically.

"No," Mia replies curtly. "It's my new high heels. These babies are something you'll never be able to master." She struts around the kitchen, showing off her high heeling skills—definitely not almost falling every second—until Emilie trips her. Mia falls on her face and Emilie takes the tickets back. She runs off, and I hear her slam her door and turn the lock.

I guess I have to ask Collin for one of his tickets. It's better than getting involved with this war. I walk in the opposite direction of my mom and Mia who scream and run after Emilie.

I think I have the craziest family in history.