it!â Jane yelled as she hit the button and started the balls flying.
âYou stupid asshole!â Cara yelled as she slammed the ball with such force that Meg had to duck to avoid getting pelted by it.
âWatch it!â Meg yelled as she ducked. âYouâre going to hit me by accident!â
âYou think sheâs better than me? You think you can cheat on me with some cheerleading slut?â Cara screamed, the tennis ball once again serving as a wonderful proxy for Markâs head.
âI will kill you!â Cara screeched as she slammed a ball over the net.
âI will destroy you!â she cried, knocking the next ball so hard it became trapped between the links of the fence surrounding the court.
âI will make you wish you never met me!â Pop! She smashed another one, the sound of the racket on the ball reminiscent of a champagne cork being freed from its bottle.
âYou stupid, arrogant, asshole!â she shouted as she nailed the ball with a powerful backhand that unfortunately went a bit wayward and hit the machineâwhich promptly stopped working. Man, Jane thought. No matter how many times she watched Cara in action, sheâd never stop being impressed by her strength or agility.
âUh-oh,â Jane said as she heard the machine sputter and the motor slowly wind down.
âWhat just happened?â Meg asked. She went over and began pushing buttons on the back of the machine. âOh my God, she broke it! What are we going to do?â
âWhatâs going on?â Cara yelled from the other side of the net, flushed and out of breath but energized. âCome on, Iâm just getting warmed up! Turn up the speed! Let them fly! I can do better than this!â
âItâs not brokenâitâs just . . . not working at the moment,â Jane said, trying very hard not to panic.
âWhat if we broke it?â Meg whispered to Jane as they blindly banged on the machine, trying to bring it back to life. It was pointless. It had flatlined.
âWell, what do we care? Cara wonât be on the tennis team next year, and Iâm pretty sure theyâll replace it by then.â
âBut that means we damaged school property! We can get in a lot of trouble for this! What if someone saw us? What if they dust the tennis balls for prints and find out it was us? Can they keep us from graduating?â
âYou really need to stop watching Court TV. No one is going to dust tennis balls for prints, you lunatic. Youâre overreacting! Whoâs going to find us anyway? Thereâs no one here!â
âHey! Whoâs over there?â a security guard called from the far perimeter of the court, waving a flashlight in their direction.
âOh shit! Run!â Jane said, grabbing the duffel bag off the ground but leaving the bolt cutters and tennis balls behind.
âOh my God!â Meg squealed for the millionth time as she took off for the gate, her strides somewhat inhibited by the skirt she was wearing. âI canât go to jail! I want to go to Vanderbilt!â
âShut up and run, Meg!â Cara yelled as she tore through the gate ahead of the others and made her way to the parking lot. Jane had insisted that Cara park her car a block away from school, which at the time had seemed totally unnecessary, but now made perfect sense. No middle-aged security guard was going to catch three teenage girls running at a full sprint, and by the time he got to the street theyâd be long gone. Once again, Jane had thought it all out.
Jane heard Megâs footsteps behind her, and off in the distance saw the dim glow of the guardâs flashlight as they ran from the courts. Then, a cry from Meg.
âOwwww!â she yelled. Cara turned to see what happened but never broke stride.
âAre you okay? Come on, Meg! Run! If we get caught they might not let us graduate tomorrow!â Jane said.
âYou said I was
âYou stupid asshole!â Cara yelled as she slammed the ball with such force that Meg had to duck to avoid getting pelted by it.
âWatch it!â Meg yelled as she ducked. âYouâre going to hit me by accident!â
âYou think sheâs better than me? You think you can cheat on me with some cheerleading slut?â Cara screamed, the tennis ball once again serving as a wonderful proxy for Markâs head.
âI will kill you!â Cara screeched as she slammed a ball over the net.
âI will destroy you!â she cried, knocking the next ball so hard it became trapped between the links of the fence surrounding the court.
âI will make you wish you never met me!â Pop! She smashed another one, the sound of the racket on the ball reminiscent of a champagne cork being freed from its bottle.
âYou stupid, arrogant, asshole!â she shouted as she nailed the ball with a powerful backhand that unfortunately went a bit wayward and hit the machineâwhich promptly stopped working. Man, Jane thought. No matter how many times she watched Cara in action, sheâd never stop being impressed by her strength or agility.
âUh-oh,â Jane said as she heard the machine sputter and the motor slowly wind down.
âWhat just happened?â Meg asked. She went over and began pushing buttons on the back of the machine. âOh my God, she broke it! What are we going to do?â
âWhatâs going on?â Cara yelled from the other side of the net, flushed and out of breath but energized. âCome on, Iâm just getting warmed up! Turn up the speed! Let them fly! I can do better than this!â
âItâs not brokenâitâs just . . . not working at the moment,â Jane said, trying very hard not to panic.
âWhat if we broke it?â Meg whispered to Jane as they blindly banged on the machine, trying to bring it back to life. It was pointless. It had flatlined.
âWell, what do we care? Cara wonât be on the tennis team next year, and Iâm pretty sure theyâll replace it by then.â
âBut that means we damaged school property! We can get in a lot of trouble for this! What if someone saw us? What if they dust the tennis balls for prints and find out it was us? Can they keep us from graduating?â
âYou really need to stop watching Court TV. No one is going to dust tennis balls for prints, you lunatic. Youâre overreacting! Whoâs going to find us anyway? Thereâs no one here!â
âHey! Whoâs over there?â a security guard called from the far perimeter of the court, waving a flashlight in their direction.
âOh shit! Run!â Jane said, grabbing the duffel bag off the ground but leaving the bolt cutters and tennis balls behind.
âOh my God!â Meg squealed for the millionth time as she took off for the gate, her strides somewhat inhibited by the skirt she was wearing. âI canât go to jail! I want to go to Vanderbilt!â
âShut up and run, Meg!â Cara yelled as she tore through the gate ahead of the others and made her way to the parking lot. Jane had insisted that Cara park her car a block away from school, which at the time had seemed totally unnecessary, but now made perfect sense. No middle-aged security guard was going to catch three teenage girls running at a full sprint, and by the time he got to the street theyâd be long gone. Once again, Jane had thought it all out.
Jane heard Megâs footsteps behind her, and off in the distance saw the dim glow of the guardâs flashlight as they ran from the courts. Then, a cry from Meg.
âOwwww!â she yelled. Cara turned to see what happened but never broke stride.
âAre you okay? Come on, Meg! Run! If we get caught they might not let us graduate tomorrow!â Jane said.
âYou said I was
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