Tales from the Field: Mac’s Ultimate Prank by Katie L. Carroll

Central High women’s soccer team: schooling the boys’ team on the field since 2012. Now it’s time to school them off the field.

I mute the music and kill the lights on my mom’s SUV, packed full of my teammates, as we approach our rival school, Valley High. The speedometer hovers below 20 mph. A block away from the school, I park behind a beat-up sedan, also packed full of soccer players.

Malcolm, the captain of the boys’ team (yes, I said boys, not men…because no high school guy is actually a man), leans against his car, his dreadlocks peeking out from under a black winter hat. We’re all dressed in black to blend in with the October night. Megan and I slip out of the SUV to talk strategy with him.

“Mac. Megan,” he whispers in greeting, his breath puffing in the cold air. We’re not close enough to the school to be heard by anyone there, but we’re not taking any chances of talking loudly and disturbing the neighborhood. “You ladies ready for this?”

“We were born ready,” I say before Megan can answer. She’s our captain and the boss on the soccer field, but I’m in charge tonight.

The thing is every year the Central High women’s soccer team has a better record than the boys’ team. And it goes without saying (though I’m going to say it) that we look a helluva lot better out on the field than they do.

But there is one thing the boys’ team is better at than us: they always pull the best Dog Day Eve prank. So this year (my senior—and final—year), I’m determined to one up them by stealing Benji the Bulldog, Valley’s mascot. And I’ve come up with a brilliant plan.

It’s a brilliant because there’s little fear of retaliation. Our mascot is also a dog (a husky), but unlike Valley’s bulldog, our husky isn’t real. The dog is a costume worn by the gym teacher. (It used to be worn by a student until two years ago when there was an unfortunate incident with a bare bottom underneath said costume. Both hilarious and gross!)

From my pocket, I pull out a drawing of the school and a flashlight. I point to the bus drop-off circle. “This is where we park. It’s easy in/easy out. They keep Benji in the janitor’s office until the night janitor takes him home around ten p.m. I’ve got dog treats to keep him quiet.” I add as an afterthought, “For the dog, not the janitor.”

Malcolm stifles a laugh. “How many are going in?”

“Four of us. Me, Megan, you, and whoever you want to take.”

“Jimmy’s my wingman.”

I make a snap decision. “Okay. The four of us will take your car up to the circle. Everyone else can wait here.” My mom will kill me if I get dog hair (or worse) all over her SUV.

Malcolm ducks his head into window and in true clown-car fashion an impossible number of boys file out of the tiny sedan. I tell them they’re not going to fit in my car and they can wait outside.

While Malcolm chats up Addison (who we all call Hunter) in my front seat, I flip my car keys to Denise (my best friend), who is squished into the very back with Sadie and Paloma. “You’re in charge until I get back. No boys allowed inside.”

She ducks low and makes her way to the front. “Got it.”

I let Malcolm drive up to the school (only because it’s a stick and I don’t know how to drive one) and we park at the end of the drop-off circle for a quick getaway.

I’m about to get out, when from the backseat Megan locks my shoulder in a death-grip. “Wait, MacKenzie. You never told me how we’re supposed to get in. It’s after hours, way after hours. All the doors are locked. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner.”

Before she can spiral further into panic (any sense of unpreparedness makes Megan slightly crazy), I pry her hand away. “I’ve got it under control. My cousin’s boyfriend goes to Valley. He spilled a bunch of chemicals in the photo lab and convinced the teacher to leave a window open to air it out.”

Next to Megan, Jimmy lets out a long whistle, clearly impressed by my prank skills. He has no idea how long I’ve been planning this.

“Let’s do this,” I say, and then we’re out of the car and creeping around the school to the photo lab’s, which is in fact cracked open (I barely refrain from shouting with joy that my boyfriend’s cousin has come through for me).

Between the hushed whispers and the squeak of the window being pushed farther open, we’re making way more noise than we should. I make another executive decision.

“Only two of us go in. The other two wait outside and stand watch.” I didn’t want the boys involved at all (so they can’t try and steal all the credit for the prank), but no one on my team could take Benji overnight and Malcolm agreed to do it.

“Me,” Megan says. “I’ll go with Mac.”

“No way,” Malcolm argues. “It should be me. I’m the one housing the dog tonight.”

Before a real argument breaks out and blows up my whole plan, I shush them. “Malcolm comes. Megan and Jimmy wait outside.” Maybe I should have been captain of the team (not really, too much responsibility).

Amazingly we sneak down several hallways to the janitor’s office and find it empty except for Benji. I slip a couple of dog treats to him and open the dog crate. I swear he smiles (though bulldogs always kind of look like they’re grinning) and attempts a leap with his stubby legs. But he’s quiet.

Malcolm grabs him around the middle and we take off in a jog back to the photo lab. That’s when all hell breaks loose! As Malcolm is passing Benji through the open window Jimmy, the dog starts barking, and barking, and barking. Benji squiggles in Jimmy’s arms, and Jimmy swears, loudly.

We sprint toward the car, but by the time we reach the front of the school, lights are turning on inside. Jimmy practically throws the still-barking Benji into the car and we all pile in. Malcolm guns it out of the driveway.

Megan screams, “Slow down! We’ll get caught. We’ve gotta look inconspicuous.”

Malcolm decelerates the car to a normal speed. I stuff the last remaining treats into Benji’s mouth, and he finally calms down.

A squad car rushes past, no lights or sirens (but definitely in a hurry). Malcolm puts his blinker on to turn down the street where we left everyone else, but I direct him to head to the mall. I’ve resigned myself to letting all those boys into my mom’s SUV and text Denise to meet us there. (No way am I staying so close to Valley High with the contraband.)

At the mall, the guys and Benji head off with Malcolm and I start the long process of taking all my teammates home. My hands are still shaking with adrenaline as I take the wheel.

Megan recounts what happened and the atmosphere in the car is giddy with the excitement that we pulled of such a great prank. Swallowing back the lump of nerves in my throat, I join the celebration by blasting loud, brain-cell killing music. 

At home, I crash hard and wake up late. All day I can’t shake the butterflies wrecking havoc on my system. I tell myself that I’m just excited about the final phase of the prank tonight at half-time of the football game.

I pick up Denise and Megan and we head to our school for the football game (the football players never come to our games so we make of point of not attending theirs, but we have a special reason for attending tonight).

We sit with a bunch of our teammates and players from the boys’ team. Megan has forbidden anyone from talking about what we did last night. Those of us who were part of the prank keep shooting glances at each other. The high-fiving and giggling are rampant. Malcolm gives me a nod and heads out of the stands. It's almost time!

The half-time whistle blows and the anticipation in our section of the stands is palpable. Before the cheerleaders can take the field for their annual mid-game exhibition, a tennis ball is thrown at the 50-yard line (I bribed a freshman to do this without knowing why she was doing it). Benji (strategically released by Malcolm from the cover of the trees on the far end of the field), dressed in Central’s red and white colors, trots to the ball.

A cry of fury breaks out in the Valley stands as they realize the dog is their mascot. Our fans whoop and holler with glee. One of Valley’s cheerleading coaches scoops up Benji and stands in the middle of the field as if waiting for instructions on what to do. I think my sides are going to split I’m laughing so hard.

I bask in the triumph of a well-executed prank for one full minute before a heavy hand falls on my shoulder. All those butterflies that have been hanging in my stomach threaten to come out of my mouth.

I look up to find the vice principle staring down at me, her mouth closed in a harsh line of anger. Her other hand is pressed firmly to Megan’s shoulder. Megan sends daggers my way (she might be angrier than the vice principle). The boys’ soccer coach is already escorting Jimmy down the stands.

“You two need to come with me,” the vice principle says.

Best prank of all-time: accomplished. Punishment for my crimes: to be determined (but all signs point to something severe). Maybe I should have left the pranking up to the boys’ team this year.

***

Check out the other Tales From the Field here! 

Katie L. Carroll is a mother, writer, editor, speaker, and soccer player. She began writing at a very sad time in her life after her 16-year-old sister, Kylene, unexpectedly passed away. Since then writing has taken her to many wonderful places, real and imagined. She wrote her YA fantasy ELIXIR BOUND so Kylene could live on in the pages of a book. Katie is also the author of the picture app THE BEDTIME KNIGHT and a contributor to THE GREAT CT CAPER, a serialized mystery for young readers. She lives not too far from the beach in a small Connecticut city with her husband and sons. For more about Katie, visit her website at www.katielcarroll.com.

Tales from the Field: Paloma’s Night Out by Katie L. Carroll

Two rival schools plus two dog mascots equals one crazy prank night.

“Paloma!” My name echoes off the lockers and down the nearly empty hallway. My teammate Sadie catches up to me and hooks her arm into mine. “You in for Dog Day Eve?”

“Huh?” I say. English may be my second language, but I’m pretty sure Sadie isn’t speaking it right now, or maybe she’s referring to some American holiday I don’t know about.

“Dog Day Eve,” she repeats, not making any more sense than the first time she said it. “The night before the football game against Valley High.”

“We don’t have a game tomorrow.” Moving to a new country the summer before sophomore year has left my social calendar very light, so I memorized the game and practice schedules after I made the varsity team at Central High School. We’ve already played our rivals, Valley High, and aren’t scheduled to play them again.

“Not futbol,” she corrects me, “American football.”

I suppose I’ll never get used to calling the sport I play soccer and a sport in which the foot is hardly used football.

“Yes, of course, football.” I’m careful to adjust my pronunciation of the last word. “Why does that involve a dog?” The term “pigskin” gave me some confusion the first time I watched a football game until someone told me it referred to the ball, so perhaps there is some kind of dog term in the game as well.

She giggles and arm-in-arm pulls me down the hallway toward her locker.

“It doesn’t. Well, it might this year.” A mischievous grin lights up her face as she looks sideways at me. “The day of the Central/Valley game is called Dog Day. You know, because we’re the huskies and they’re the bulldogs,” she explains because clearly I don’t know. “It’s a tradition the night before the big football game to pull a prank on Valley, and they always pull one on us.”

We stop at her locker and she quickly spins the dial and opens it. School has been out for hours, but after practice I had to come back to my locker for a book. I guess Sadie forgot something, too.

“So this year Megan and Malcolm,” she looks over at me and adds, “he’s the captain of the guys’ team, the soccer team, not football.” I’m from Spain, not stupid, but given my earlier confusion, I forgive her for over-explaining in this case. “Anyway, they decided we’re going to pull the best prank ever on Valley High.”

My eyes widen. “What are you going to do?” That doesn't sound anything like what my friends and I would do for fun back home.

For a moment, I’m lost in a memory from about a month before we moved. I was riding the metro with my friends to the stadium to watch FC Barcelona play. We were munching on strawberry-flavored candy and laughing—I remember lots of laughing, but not much about the match.

“We,” Sadie interrupts my thoughts. Her locker is shut and a black jacket is draped across her arm. “You’re coming, right?”

“I don’t know.” I’m eager for a night out that doesn’t involve a long dinner with my parents. I don’t think my father will give me a ride anywhere tonight, and my mother doesn’t have a license—she didn’t need one when we lived in Barcelona.

“Mac’s got room in her car. We’ll come and get you. Be ready by seven.”

Pranking sounds fun but possibly dangerous, and certainly not an activity my father would approve of. “I’m not sure my parents will let me.”

“Tell them it’s a team thing. Trust me, this is going to be epic. You don’t want to miss it.” I nod hesitantly. She checks her phone. “I gotta run.” Heading down the hallway, she yells over her shoulder, “Make sure to wear black!”

A couple of hours later, I’m in the living room with my parents, all of us anxiously awaiting the arrival of my teammates. My mom sits on the edge of the couch, and my dad stands at the big front window, staring out into the night.

I’m clad in black jeans and my FC Barcelona jersey. To avoid raising my parents’ suspicions, I keep my black hooded sweatshirt on my lap, ready to be zipped over the bright shirt once I leave. On my feet are my indoor soccer shoes, which I hate to wear outside, but they’re the only black shoes I own besides my boots—cleats here in America.

My mother glances at the clock. “They’re late.” It’s 7:05 p.m., but being even a minute late is rude according to her.

“They’ll be here.” I hope.

It’s silent except for the tick-tock of the antique clock my mom brought on her carry-on, not trusting anyone else to transport the family heirloom and relic from pre World War II. The honk of a horn sounds outside.

I hop out of my seat and stand beside my dad to look out the window. A black SUV sits at the curb, and I recognize it as Mac’s mom’s car. “That’s them,” I say to him.

“They’re not coming to the door,” he says like he can’t believe it. “I don’t like this, Paloma.”

Of all my friends back in Spain, I had the strictest parents, but they’ve lightened up slightly since moving me across the world.

“They don’t do that here. Please,” I beg, “just let me go. They’re my teammates. You know them.”

He looks to my mother, who waves her hand and says, “Let her go. I suppose we’ll have to get used to this.”

“You may go,” he relents. “But don’t forget your toque de queda.”

“I won’t forget my curfew,” I say. “Ten o’ clock.”

I run out the front door before he changes his mind. The SUV is packed. Mac, of course, is driving, and Addison Hunter, who has a broken ankle, is in the front passenger seat. Megan and our goalie Olivia take up the middle seats. I squeeze into the very back with Sadie and Denise, a fellow defender for the team.

My parents’ stern figures are silhouetted in the window as Mac squeals away from the house. I swallow and quickly buckle my seatbelt. She turns up the music, a night-club type base rumbling through the car.

“Where are we going?” I yell to Sadie.

She bounces her head to the music, a crazy grin on her face. “Valley High!” She pumps a fist in the air.

“Why?” I ask.

Megan turns in her seat. “We’re kidnapping Benji the Bulldog!”

Mac drives onto the entrance ramp and guns it up to the highway. Back pressed against the leather seat, a chill of excitement shoots through me. Like Sadie said, Dog Day Eve is going to be epic!

***

Don't miss all of Central High women's Tales From the Field here! 

Katie L. Carroll is a mother, writer, editor, and soccer player. She began writing at a very sad time in her life after her 16-year-old sister, Kylene, unexpectedly passed away. Since then writing has taken her to many wonderful places, real and imagined. She wrote her YA fantasy ELIXIR BOUND so Kylene could live on in the pages of a book. Katie is also the author of the picture app THE BEDTIME KNIGHT and a contributor to THE GREAT CT CAPER, a serialized mystery for young readers. She lives not too far from the beach in a small Connecticut city with her husband and sons. For more about Katie, visit her website at www.katielcarroll.com.