The Hybrid

Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – Prank Wars

Troublemaker. Noun. A person who habitually causes difficulty or problems, especially by inciting others to defy authority.

Person: Alexander Youngblood.

Inciting: Aurora Maxwell. 

Mission: Give Zach's car a makeover.

I tiptoe down the stairs. Once I have reached the last step, I fist pump the air and do a victory dance. You know when actors knock over things when they're trying to be quiet in movies? Yeah, that always happens to me whenever I sneak out.

However, this time I didn't expect to bump into the side table and nearly knock a vase over. I bite my lip hard to stifle the scream that is about to escape, steadying it quickly. Sighing in relief, I hurry across the lounge room, glancing around me. I had stayed over at the Valentines place so it would be easier to meet up with Alex as he lives close by.

Apparently, Alex and his friend Zach have been pranking each other for years and now it's Alex's turn. He had asked me if I wanted to help him last night and I had agreed eagerly.

Of course, an occasion like this calls for complete camouflage. I'm dressed in all black and my dark hair serves to be a gigantic plus. Closing the door softly behind me, I crouch and jog lightly across the driveway. Noticing a light turn on in one of the bedroom's, I roll behind the wall once I slip through the gates and bowl someone over. Scrambling back, I start smacking the body, a whisper-scream escaping me.

''Quit it woman! It's me, Alex!'' The boy shoves me back, grabbing my arms.

''Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me!'' I breath as he pulls me up.

He guides me down the road, looking back at me and grinning. ''You have the stuff?''

''Yeah. Right here.'' I smile, patting the backpack on my shoulders.

He laughs and turns back, his hand gripping mine as we cross the street. I look at what he's wearing; all black, just like me. He's clad in a t-shirt, sweatpants and trainers whereas I'm wearing my skinny jeans, converses and a tank top with my hoodie zipped up.

I jump over a wall and run across the fields, following Alex ahead. He holds out his hand once we reach the tree line and I grab it, gasping at the spark of pain from my wrist when I pant. It's still healing from the men who had thrown me in the cells.

I pull my hood back up and rub my wrist to alleviate the pain somehow. Alex looks back at me in concern and I nod to him reassuringly. He guides me through the woods, I don't know how he can see through the darkness; I would surely get lost if he wasn't here.

We soon arrive in the other part of the town that is near a river. After what seems like years, we finally reach a decent looking neighborhood. There are two story houses everywhere with the cliche white picket fences and all that jazz. Alex lets out a snicker when we halt in front of house number twenty-three. There stands the untouched car of Zach, unbeknownst to what lies in its very near future.

We make our way to it quietly, constantly checking for any sign of movement or light. When there is none, we get to work on our masterpiece. Taking the packs of colored sticky notes out of my backpack along with a few permanent markers, I throw some to Alex before ripping the packet open and sticking them on one by one to the cool metal. A different color for a different car part. We work in silence, short bursts of laughter escaping us at the hilarity of the situation. His friend is probably fast asleep in bed and here we are, giving his beloved car a temporary makeover.