The Bathroom Stall

The Bathroom Stall|Note Seventy-Five

Note Seventy-Five

So la da di da di, we like to party
Dancing with Miley
Doing whatever we want
This is our house
This is our rules
And we can’t stop
And we won’t stop
Can’t you see it’s we who own the night
Can’t you see it we who bout’ that life
And we can’t stop
And we won’t stop
We run things, Things don’t run we
We don't take nothing from nobody

While Miley was having a blast, I stood awkwardly next to Sam, watching everyone around us dancing and grinding to the loud music.

"You want to dance?" Sam shouted, his hands tucked in his pockets.

"Um, no not really." I apologized, self consciously looking down at the limp corsage around my wrist. After the bathroom scene, I had held my head up high and smiled throughout the rest of the meal, as if nothing had bothered me, except for the fact that there was too much parmesan cheese on my meal. Although the dance was loud, obnoxious, and everything was covered in a layer of rainbow glitters, I had braced through it all.

"Hey bro! How's the night going?" Some guy asked, approaching the two of us, an arm wrapped around a girl's hands.

"Pretty good man." Sam replied tersely, taking out his hands to give the other guy a pat on the back.

"Dude, I see you've won."

"Right. I won this pretty lady right here."

"No, I mean the bet, dude. Did you forget?"

Shock coursed through me as I turned to face Sam. "What bet?"

"Um, it's nothing." Sam muttered.

"Dude! You don't remember the bet of getting her to go with us to Homecoming?"

It was then that I realized it was the guy who had asked me to Homecoming a couple weeks ago, the guy who had called me Carrie. The one whose single brain cell had just caused everything to suddenly become clear.

"Wait, hold on." I yelled over the bass, gripping onto Sam's shoulder as he tried to shuffle away. "Were you guys betting on me?"

"Listen, I have to go." Sam replied, hastily backing away. "Sorry, Cora!"

My mouth fell open as I watched his retreating back, realizing with hurt and shock that I had just been used by Sam to win a bet. How could he have done that to me?

Then it clicked. The creepy stalker must have been Tucker. He had always been concerned about me hanging out with Sam or with any other guys. He had even told me he had been happy when I turned down Sam, and must have made up some story about his cousin to cover up his tracks.

Surging forward I looked around the gym for Tucker, pulling out my phone from my pocket and hastily sending him a text to meet with me. However, just as I was about to send it, a new message popped up on the screen. Did Tucker already find out that I knew?

Opening my phone, my excitement grew a little bit as I read the text.

From: Creepy Stalker To: Cora Roberts

Want to know everything? Meet me outside by the benches.

Sent: 9/30 8:49 p.m.

Tucking my phone away, I rushed outside, pushing past the swarm of bodies milling around the outside of the large gym. Breathing in the chilly air, I wrapped my arms around myself and hurried over to the benches which was a short distance away. When I was closer, I noticed a lone person sitting on the bench. At the sound of my heels, they turned, giving me a small smile.

My blood ran cold.