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There must be at least twenty of them…Twenty two..Twenty four…Twenty six…I stopped counting the steady stream of parents passing the window and sunk down from sight. The higher their numbers, the lower our chances of a successful escape became, and the group’s morale couldn’t afford another hit.

Ava’s head disappeared through the cracked door. Watts, Jim, Missy, and I exchanged nervous glances. We planned to hit Principal Scott’s office during prime vacancy hours. It was supposed to be a quick-ish mission; in and out. Ava was the head. She would lead us in and out. Missy and Watts were supplies and since all great senior pranks required an efficient team, we had Jim, our security. He secured the keys necessary for all our slinking about. It also included some lock-picking but hey, a back-up plan is a back-up plan, and Jim was surprisingly good at it for a teacher’s pet.

Then there’s me. I was the rear and if there was a need for a distraction or sacrifice, it fell to me.

“Still talking,” Ave sighed.

The only thing softer than her voice was the click of the door. We were essentially trapped in a room full of those creepy babies we rescued, or rather kidnapped, from Health class. There was a steady rising sea of foam, time triggered bubbles and glitter bombs, and we still had the frogs to release in the main office itself. I wanted to add shaving cream to the mix but Ava labeled that as over the line. She didn’t know about the graffiti plan yet so I agreed. I had a feeling we’d be in plenty of trouble without the shaving cream. If they found out it was us that is.

I peeked over the window sill again. So much planned and we forgot to make sure our prime vacancy time was actually vacant. Imagine our surprise when we realized the local elementary schools had some sort of even at out field. Parents milled around outside with their kids in tow.

That’s my new job; monitor the back-up escape route. The moment it cleared, we’d make a break for it. Ava’s was to sneak out the way we came, release the frogs, and lock up, but with the Dean chatting it up with some PTA member, Plan A was a little tied up.

The gang settled in for the wait but I rolled my shoulders and smirked at my reflection. The whole senior class was relying on us to cause some hell. Adams High Class of 2008 was not going to move on with out leaving our own little prank stamp. Not a chance.

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