Betrayal - Chapter 37
Thursday
The first signs of Isabella’s discomfort were her wiggling in her chair. I swore I even saw a gleam of sweat on her forehead.
I didn’t think anyone else noticed.
But when her stomach started gurgling? A few people at the table started to look over at her.
“Are you feeling alright?” Rob asked. He looked so freaking happy.
“I’m fine, twerp,” Isabella said. She lifted her champagne flute and downed the rest.
Oh no.
Rob’s eyes grew round.
“Oh, shit,” James said under his breath. And then he just laughed.
I don’t think any of us had expected Isabella to drink all of her champagne. That wasn’t part of the plan.
“You okay?” Matt asked me. He put his hand on my thigh. “You look a little pale, baby.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” But I wasn’t. I was pretty sure my stomach suddenly felt as upset as Isabella’s was about to. I just wanted a little payback. Not a real accident. Just a teensy tiny threat of an accident would have been enough for our prank to work.
“How much did you put in there?” I tried to mouth silently to Rob.
He just shrugged. But it looked like he was about to burst out laughing.
Oh God. Rob had really had to encourage me about the laxatives part of the plan to begin with. But he insisted that they were necessary. I never thought she’d down the whole glass. This was bad. Really, really bad.
Isabella’s stomach gurgled even louder.
Poppy leaned forward to see where the noise was coming from.
Isabella grabbed her napkin and wiped off her forehead.
She looked…sick. Damn it, this wasn’t part of the plan! She was just supposed to feel uncomfortable and stand up to excuse herself. Simple as that. But Isabella didn’t move at all. She just kept sitting there, her stomach gurgling more and more.
Her cheeks puffed up like she was going to barf, but she swallowed whatever it was back down. But the air still had to come out of somewhere. So she farted. Loudly.
My mouth dropped open.
Someone’s fork clattered onto their plate.
“Excuse you, Rob,” Isabella said.
“That wasn’t me,” he said. “That was all you, Wizzy.”
“No it was not.” Her stomach gurgled again. It looked like she was dying to get up. But now if she did, it would basically be a confession that she was the one that farted.
It didn’t matter though. Because she farted again, even louder this time.
Okay, maybe it was a little funny. I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t giggle.
Isabella’s face contorted with pain. There was no way to explain her way out of this. Everyone had to know it was her.
“If you’ll excuse me for one second,” Isabella said. “I think I left my…curling iron on.” She grabbed her stomach.
Rob laughed. “You better hurry, Wizzy. You don’t want another accident like that pool one. I can think of a pretty endless list of new and improved poop-themed nicknames.”
She elbowed him in the neck as she stood up.
“Ow,” Rob said.
Isabella farted again so loudly that every single person at the table had to have heard it.
I tried my best not to laugh. This was horrifying. And maybe we had taken it a little too far. But it was kind of hilarious too.
Poppy gasped as Isabella walked by. “Oh my God, Isabella. Gross!” she said.
“What?” Isabella looked down at the back of her dress where Poppy was pointing.
Rob had slipped some of the chocolate pudding onto Isabella’s seat right before she’d sat down. That was the prank. All of it. Get her to stand up in the middle of dinner and make it seem like she’d pooped her pants.
“I didn’t…” Isabella said, just as she farted again.
Poppy started laughing.
A few other people at the table did too.
Tears started streaming down Isabella’s cheeks. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was embarrassed though. It just looked like it was really painful to hold in her bowel movement.
“It’s not…” her voice trailed off as she put her hand on her ass to cover up the pudding stain as another huge fart ripped through the room. And then she screamed at the top of her lungs and ran out of the dining room, her hands trying desperately to cover her fake poopy butt…but failing.
It had gone too far. I hadn’t meant to make her cry.
But when I saw Rob barely holding back his laughter, I couldn’t not laugh.
And once I started, I couldn’t stop. Everyone thought Isabella had actually shit herself.
The prank had worked. It was freaking amazing.
And it felt so good to see her being the butt of a joke for once.
“She was crying, Brooklyn,” Matt said. “Why are you laughing at that?”
I covered my mouth. How did he not see the irony in his words?
Isabella always laughed when she made me cry.
And I couldn’t even count on one hand how many times she’d publicly humiliated me.
This was hilarious. I was actually shocked that he wasn’t laughing.
“She pooped her pants,” I said, leaning into what it looked like.
Matt just stared at me like he didn’t even recognize me.
My laughter died in my throat. This had been exactly what Matt was talking about.
Him not wanting me to stoop to Isabella’s level.
I wasn’t the kind of person who laughed at other people’s tears and embarrassment.
So why was I? Really, what was wrong with me?
And yet…another glance at the Hunters had me laughing all over again.
“Come on, man, it was kind of funny,” Mason said.
I smiled up at him.
He winked at me. “Karma, right?”
Yeah, something like that. At least one Caldwell brother understood. Really, how was Matt not even a little amused? Isabella had made his life a living hell too. This was justice. “She laughs all the time when I cry,” I said to Matt.
“Yeah. Because she’s an asshole. You’re not.”
Asshole. Just thinking about the amount of poop coming out of Isabella’s asshole right now made me giggle again. “Asshole,” I said with a laugh.
And for some reason that finally made Matt smile. “Fine. Maybe it’s a little funny. But only because you find it so hilarious.” He kissed the side of my forehead. “This is like the whizzing in the pool thing all over again.”
Right? It was the perfect prank. And now James and Rob would talk to Matt and Mason.
They’d all make up. And everyone would have a great night.
Except for Isabella. But I didn’t really care.
As far as I was concerned, she deserved it.
Besides, she’d be down in a few minutes to try to prove to everyone that it had only been pudding on her skirt.
I looked across the table. I thought Rob and James would still be laughing, but now James looked as pissed as Matt originally was.
Rob was whispering to him and waving his hands around.
James stood up. It looked like he was going to run out of the room, but Rob grabbed his arm to stop him. “Just wait for it,” Rob said.
“Have you lost your mind?” James pulled his arm out of Rob’s grip.
“Wait for it,” Rob said. He looked so excited.
There was a loud cracking noise. For a second I thought someone had dropped a dish. But then I saw a piece of drywall falling onto the table.
“Shit,” James said.
I looked up at the ceiling to see the cracks expanding right above the dining room table. And then brown goo started leaking through the cracks.
Oh God.
Mrs. Pruitt screamed and everyone started backing away from the table.
Shit literally started raining down from the cracked ceiling in big gross globs. There was a loud cracking noise and an explosion of poop fell from the ceiling, covering all the food on the table.
Poppy took some shit right to the face and screamed at the top of her lungs. She started sobbing, wiping the poo from her cheeks.
“Richard, do something!” Mrs. Pruitt yelled as a chunk of drywall landed in the center of the dining room table. One of the chandeliers fell and she screamed again as the crystals shattered.
Someone slipped backward on the mess, slamming into the china cabinet, sending glass and broken china in every direction.
Another crack made the ceiling finally collapse.
And Isabella fell through it.
On a toilet.
With her dress pulled up around her waist.
Everyone started screaming and running around, slipping in the shit and colliding with each other.
What the fuck is happening?
The toilet landed right in the center of the table on top of the Thanksgiving turkey. The table snapped in half and Isabella screamed at the top of her lungs.
More poop splattered everywhere as the toilet hit the ground. A water pipe burst, spreading everything literally everywhere. Poop seeped into the carpet. It hit a few of the guests. I even had to dodge some of it.
What the hell?!
I heard someone barfing in the corner of the dining room.
“Don’t look at me!” Isabella shrieked as she unsuccessfully tried to cover herself. Another fart ripped through the room.
And then Rob started laughing so loud. He put his finger through some of the shit on the table and licked it off.
For a second I almost started throwing up too.
But then Rob winked at me.
Oh no. It wasn’t poop. It was pudding. I was pretty sure I was one of the only people that knew it. And now I knew why Rob said he needed blueprints of the apartment. So that he could make sure to set this up just right. And why he kept joking around about an abundance of pudding.
So.
Much.
Pudding.
“Do something, Richard!” Mrs. Pruitt screamed again. “Someone do something!” She put her hands out as some of the water from the burst pipe shot in her direction. She tried to dodge it and slipped in the pudding, landing face first in the mess.
I gasped. Oh God.
My dad stepped forward to try to help Isabella off her porcelain throne, but he slipped on the pudding too.
He grabbed the arm of the guy next to him and they both tumbled into the pudding, one of them knocking into the broken china cabinet.
And this time the cabinet toppled forward, smashing into the dining room table.