Where'd You Go? (Track Twelve, III), chapter 3

Wren took this opportunity to run back into her room.

Good thing I had kind of expected something like this to happen, and had a little revenge-type prank pre-planned.

Being the preparatory type, Wren did not want to be around to deal with the aftermath. She chuckled evilly as she opened her window:

They're gonna be pissed.

Hurriedly, she shut her door and barricaded it with her bed. Through the thin walls of the house, she heard the boys' reactions to her practical joke.

"Aw fuck!"

"Wha--Son of a bitch!"

"Aw dammit, my shoes!"

Tré bellered, "You are fucking dead!"

"Not if I kill her first!" Billie Joe yelled.

I love spray can whipped cream. It had been pure genius to think it up and pure insanity not to follow through. Ahhh, how perfectly easy to shoot a big blob of it into the toes of their shoes.

Wren smiled as she thought loving thoughts of the wonderful invention. Regaining her senses, she slipped out the window and made a dash for the only tree on the lot. Climbing into the sheltering boughs of the oak, she listened to the incoherent sounds of her housemate's wordless dismay upon finding her room rather empty.

Wren watched as Tré stuck his head out the window and looked around. Sometimes--most of the time--he reminded her of some hyper dog on speed. Billie, on the other hand, was more like an adopted brother. She had met him at school, and the older boy had taken Wren under his wing.

Then there was Mike, whom Wren had been introduced to by Billie Joe. Wren and Mike had always gotten along well since their first encounter. When he chose to, Mike could be the calmest of the trio. Though he tried to hide it, he was also "the smart one" as well.

This explained why he was standing at the foot of the oak tree. "Come out, come out." he sing-songed. He was just lounging on the tree, not actually looking up, and not appearing to have found anything.

A crazy idea popped into Wren's head, "Hey, if I come down, what say we tear off in your truck?"

"I'm always up for a road race. Better hurry."

With a less than graceful thud, Wren jumped/fell out of the tree. After a few stumbling steps, she managed to get her feet working right in order to run after Mike.

"Hey!" Tré screamed out the window, "TRAITOR!"

Mike and Wren hopped into his battered black pick-up, laughing insanely. With the screech of tires, they roared out of the driveway and onto the street. Executing a flawless three sixty, they drove off.

Mike sped for the first few minutes, and then started to go the legal limit. Wren knew he was proud of being the only one of the guys to have not been nailed for some sort of traffic incident. As he often boasted, he liked to keep it that way. Instead of speed, he had stealth. Sneakily, he steered the car along the alleys.

"By the way," Wren was curious, "where are we going?"

Mike looked over at her with a grin that made her guts flutter, "Around."

They both yelled in surprise as Billie's red car jolted by on a main street.

"Punch it!" Wren cried.

Accordingly, Mike stomped on the gas and the truck's engine roared. Wren couldn't help but laugh as G-force pushed her back into the seat when the truck blasted onto the street. Tires screamed as they ripped around corners, Billie Joe and Tré in hot pursuit.

Mike stuck his head out the window and told them, "Seeyah at the house, fuckers!"

With that, the newer and healthier black vehicle took the lead. As they jerked to a stop in the driveway back at the house, Wren shook her head and laughed. "Mike, you are the absolute best."

"Yeah," He nodded confidently as he leaned forward on to wrap his arms around the steering wheel. "I know."

Such, nice, tattooed, arms. Wren ducked her head, hoping he couldn't tell what she was thinking.

BLAM!

She yelled in shock and half threw herself at Mike as something large hit her window. The something only turned out to be Billie Joe and Tré, hurling themselves at the car.

"Uh, um, sorry," Wren muttered as she slid away from Mike.

Way to go! Her brain screamed. Score another point for the loser! Acting like some preppy. Wren scowled in self-disgust as she thought sarcastically, Oh Mike, save me from the big bad boys!

Inquiringly, he shifted his blue eyes in her direction. "What are you doing?"

Billie Joe was going for her door handle, so Wren slammed down the lock. "Nothing."

Casually, Mike did the same, all the while, those eyes calmly watching her.

"That's the--would you guys fuck off!"
Tré stopped climbing onto the hood. Instead, he dropped his pants and bent over so the two inside the truck had a lovely view of his heart patterned boxers. Billie Joe did the same, revealing smiley face boxers.

"This seems the only time they won't be looking, so fuck it." Subsequent to Wren actually understanding what was coming, Mike leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. He didn't say anything, just hastily unlocked his door and got out.

For a shell-shocked second or ten, Wren stared blindly at the merrily waving boxers in front of her. Then realizing what she was doing, she forced herself out of the car. Mike still didn't look at her as he leaned on the front corner of the hood. Leisurely, he kicked Billie Joe's ass and sent him sprawling. That made Tré pull up his pants in a hurry.

"Well, well, well, look who's gone over to the dark side."

"You two turned on me, where the fuck else am I to go?"

"Did not!" Tré protested.

"And those little quips were what then?" Mike asked.

"Did it work?" Billie picked himself off the ground.

"Did what work?" Wren queried.

Tré fidgeted. Billie Joe messed with his hair. Mike inspected his shoes, which were oozing whipped cream.

Feeling left out, Wren grumbled, "Fine then. I'll just go back to bed."

As she walked back into the house, she heard Tré say, "We tried man. We need masks or something."

"Fuck the masks," Billie Joe grumbled.