The Locker Wars

Adam sprinted over to Adele’s, afraid to be late. There was something about her that intimidated him, and now he didn’t even remember how he was convinced into doing this.

Oh, right, he could end up with William Beckett’s knuckle imprints on his cheekbones. Oh yes, that was why he’d planned to do this.

Adele was already waiting outside of her house as soon as Adam skidded up to her. And when he stopped to catch his breath and waited for her to say something, Adele pulled his wrist and they went flying in the direction of what Adam guessed was where she needed him to go.

Adele wasn’t a fast runner, so Adam could keep up with her just fine. She did have a little bit of a height advantage, but it wasn’t that much. They kept running until Adele set a jogging pace, and then finally a walking to creeping pace. And now Adam was unsure of what he was about to do.

“Listen close, Siska, ‘cause I’m not telling you twice,” Adele huffed, and they bent down into some bushes. “Okay. You’re going to do your first job for me... I mean, the group. Okay, you see that house over there with the pretty flowers and the silver car in the driveway?”

“Um...” Adam glanced up. “Um, yeah. What’s in that house?”

Adele rolled her eyes, and Adam shut his mouth. “William Beckett. Now, he has a notebook, and I want you to go get it for me. And later, when I’m done with it, you’re going to return it to where you found it. Got it?”

Not again, Adam thought.

“Well... I have to go inside his house? What if I don’t know where it is? What if he catches me?” he gulped.

“It’s not my fault... just be stealthy. Yeah, just sneak right in there.” Adele turned her head, and Adam had been leaning so close that his nose fell into her wavy brown locks. “Fuck! Okay, you know what to do, right? Just get me the notebook that he keeps his poems in.”

“Isn’t that kind of personal—”

“Does this face look like it cares?” Adele rolled her eyes. She pointed a finger in the direction of William’s house. “Now, go. He’s already home, I suspect, so sneaking in there should be easier.”

“Easier?!”

“You know what, just go. If he catches you, just make up some excuse. Or just bolt. He’ll just think you want to suck up to him or something, right? I mean, he thinks that everyone worships him. God, what an egotistical bastard!” Adele clenched her fists. Adam sat there awkwardly. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go!”

Adam gulped and then got up, making his way towards William Beckett’s house.

* * *

It didn’t take him long, for Adele was only hiding behind a bush across the street. It was getting in that was going to be the trouble. Of course, Adam couldn’t just waltz through the front door, or else that would just be weird, not to mention, it would spoil the image of sneaking in.

He realized, as he was checking for windows that had been left open or something of the sort, that he’d forgotten to ask Adele why she wanted the book. It was a strange request indeed, wanting a book full of poetry. But it wasn’t Adam’s time to judge or ask, it was time to try to sneak through the window into the living room.

Adam was skinny, but he knew that it’d be a tight squeeze between the window pane and the wall. But in the end, only his leg got caught in an uncomfortable way, and he ended up stumbling onto the carpet, his knapsack tumbling in behind him. He got up and started to explore the house.

It sounded as if there was water running, and perfect, anyone who was home was in the shower, thus causing noise, thus Adam not getting caught immediately. He wandered about, looking for the bag that William carried to school every day.

He spotted it by the dining room table, right on the wall beside it. He raced over to it and unzipped it, his hands digging nervously to try to find that damned book. And as soon as Adam couldn’t find it, he knew that he’d have to go even further into the house.

There was only one possible answer for where the book was: William’s bedroom. But that was upstairs, and that’s probably where the shower was, so Adam didn’t want to risk going up there.

But he had to, or else he’d probably get some sort of torture (and not the wet-dream kind that other guys his age thought of) from Adele. And if William found out, then he’d definitely be in shit.

He slowly made his way up the steps, and shit, it was William in the shower. Or who else had a good humming voice? Yeah, a string of melodies came from the bathroom, or what Adam suspected was the bathroom, and it only scared him more.

But still, he raced to find William’s room. He guessed it was the one with the posters all over the door and clothes all strewn about.

He crept quietly into the room, his eyes darting about for any distinct-looking notebook. But maybe Bill Beckett was smarter than that; maybe it was something hidden in plain view. It could have been just a normal notebook, not something with ‘MY SECRET POEMS’ scribbled across the front.

But maybe Beckett was dumb, because to Adam’s left, lay a notebook that read, ‘Private Poems’. Immediately, his hand reached for it and he pulled it open just to make sure it was okay and not some accidental decoy that he left lying around in case something like this ever did happen to him.

Yep, there were small verses and poems and shit about some girl, something-or-other, Adam hadn’t bothered to check. He thrust the book into his knapsack before running straight out the front door.

* * *

Adele was still waiting in the bush, and she was tapping her favourite pink watch as Adam came huffing and tripping towards her.

“Did you get it?” she asked eagerly, grumbling when Adam threw his empty hands up into the air.

“It’s... it’s...” Adam gulped for air. “It’s in my bag. I got it. Here.” He started to unzip his bag, but Adele seized it from him and pulled out the notebook.

“Are you sure it’s not a decoy?” she raised an eyebrow when she read the words, ‘Private Poems’ on the front cover. She examined the back as Adam pulled his bag into his arms.

“I checked,” Adam gasped. “Cheesy love poems and everything. About a girl.”

“Brilliant,” Adele grinned, flipping through the pages. “This is perfect. Thanks, Siska. Erm... call me if you need help with homework. Only homework.” It was the best she could offer.

“Okay,” Adam nodded timidly. He looked around. “Can I go now?”

“Yeah, but I need you to put it back later,” Adele informed, and Adam groaned.

This wasn’t worth it, but it was what he wanted, right?