Page 90 of Chubs

“What’s got you frowning so bad it’s going to cause wrinkles?” Lisa asks as she takes a seat on the couch.

“Craig’s up to something, and Bella needs me to come to the clubhouse Sunday morning before they have Church,” I answer.

“Craig’s always up to something. Going to the clubhouse is something you need to do. You need to face him and decide if it’s really over or not. What can it hurt to hear him out?”

“I understand why he did what he did. I’m past that, but I can’t get past how he led me to think everything was okay with us while planning on leaving. I don’t think I could ever trust him again, and what’s a relationship look like without trust?”

“Like shit, to be honest. Maybe you two could start fresh as if you just met. You fell together so fast before. You never really went through all the dating, getting to know each other things. If he fucks up, you’re no worse off than you are now,” Lisa suggests.

“I feel like I’m finally starting to get a grip on myself again. Not sure I want to open myself up for another round of hurt, you know? Besides, I don’t even know if he’s interested in a relationship with me or not. He’s been back for almost a week now and hasn’t reached out. Maybe I’m worrying for nothing, and he meant for us to be ended when he left.”

“Deep inside, which do you want? Him to be okay with moving on without you, or him still wanting you with him?” Lisa questions quietly.

I think about that for a minute before shrugging my shoulders.

“I honestly don’t know. Either way, it’s going to hurt. I’m not over him, hating him, wanting to move on without him, yet I don’t feel like I can trust anything he tells me anymore.”

“Understandable. Want me to come with you on Sunday? It’s not like it’s punishment to have to eat Ava’s brunch. I’d love to see Chubs again too. I may nut-punch him, but it’ll be nice to see his smiling face,” Lisa says with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, I’d like it if you’d come too. That way, you can drag me out of there if I start doing anything stupid like crying or begging.”

“Ew. Don’t beg. That’s just sad. Only sad, pathetic women beg a man to stay with them when the man clearly wants out. No man is worth that,” Lisa states with a shudder.

“Don’t let me drink alcohol either. I say things I normally wouldn’t, and I’d probably say too much.”

“I got your back, little sister.”

The following day at noon, I’m parked outside the school. Nothing out of the ordinary seems to be happening, so my hopes raised a bit that maybe Craig rethought his decision to wreak havoc. I breathe a sigh of relief and start to exit my car. I soon realize I was premature in my relief when a fire truck pulls to a stop in front of the main entrance to the school.

Sitting back down inside my car, I wait. Soon after, several firemen enter the school, carrying large tools and a toolbox. I hear loud banging noises. Not able to contain my curiosity, I hustle to the school entrance and walk in. Stopping in the lobby, I find a large crowd of teachers peering in the direction of the principal’s office. Several students are standing around too, and most are laughing amongst themselves.

I push my way through the crowd and spot Craig sitting in a chair in the hallway, wide grin on his face. Making it to his side, he grins up at me then laughs that evil laugh I’ve heard too many times. Holding out Pippa’s phone to me, I take it and see there’s a video ready to play. Oh God, what has he done?

“There’s not much to see. It’s a listen-to-me-type video, and it’s enlightening, to say the least,” he says before laughing so hard he nearly falls off the chair.

I hit play and hold the phone close to my ear to hear it over the noise of the crowd. It only takes a few “oh baby” and “harder” to know what I’m listening to. Shocked, I look at the office door the firemen are trying to open, then down to Craig. I quickly hit the stop button and raise my brows at the little demon sitting in front of me.

“Explain,” I state with trepidation.

“Jones and his secretary like to get it on during their lunch period. Don’t ask how I know that because I’m traumatized enough as it is. Anyway, I knew I had to meet with Principal Jones today because of some bullshit he wanted to punish me for. Instead of returning to class after, I waited in the doorway of the restroom until the secretary entered his office and they locked the door. I then set the phone to record while I superglued his door shut. I learned that trick from Chubs. Works so much better than you’d think it would. I had to use a few tubes, but it was worth the cost. Even the lock and hinges are glued shut,” Craig explains between fits of laughter.

“Okay, maybe we should get out of here before he gets freed and sees you. He might assume you had something to do with this,” I advise.

“Oh, hell to the no! I’m not missing out on this. Besides, I’m not done yet.”

“What more is there, Craig? You taped him doing his secretary and locked them in his office!”

“I texted his wife and her husband the video of her entering his office and then the audio of them doing the nasty. We had a nice chat. They’re on their way here. Shit’s about to hit the fan!” he exclaims excitedly.

At the same time, the door finally gives way, a man shouts, “Where the fuck is he?” and then roughly shoves through the crowd. In a burst of speed, he shoves the unsuspecting firemen out of the way and pounces on the principal.

Craig jumps up to stand on the chair and holds the phone high, recording everything. I step up to stand behind him because I don’t want to miss out on this either. The secretary rushes to pull on her husband’s arm when an irate woman spins her around and lands a well-trained blow to her face. The secretary is knocked flat on the ground, but that doesn’t stop the other woman from delivering a few more blows. While that battle is raging, the man has Principal Jones pinned against a wall doing the same. Oddly enough, no one tries to stop him.

Eventually, the firemen break up the fight, but all the school staff just stand in place, most with huge smiles. I’m going to take a guess and say that Principal Jones wasn’t liked by his employees. When his wife steps up to him, I laugh out loud at the look of sheer terror on his face.

“I hope you enjoyed your time with Heels Up Carrie because it’s going to cost you big time!” she screams, knees him in the groin, then storms out of the school.

“Heels Up Carrie?” I mutter, confused.

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