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“How much longer?” I ask Prisha under my breath.
“I give it another two minutes or so before it eats through the plastic.”
I grin. “Perfect.”
Prisha has chemistry on Mondays before lunch, and she can add science whiz to her list of skills. It was her idea to sneak a bit of carbon disulfide from the lab and pour it into an unlabeled pill bottle.
Except carbon disulfide eats through polycarbonate plastics. And when it’s involved in a chemical reaction, it releases a foul, rotten egg odor.
The dining hall is about to clear out real quick.
I grab an apple and a bag of chips, but Prisha packed a lunch today, as she often does.
The two of us return to our seats, and I have to bite my lip to avoid grinning like a psycho.
We keep an eye on the Aristocrats’ table, and Prisha leans over to whisper to me. “How much do you think Johanna spent on that Birkin bag?”
I pull up a quick search on my phone. “Judging by these listings, even used bags go for upwards of thirty-thousand dollars.”
Oh, shit. We’re vandalizing the equivalent of a car at that price point.
Prisha gulps. “Johanna wouldn’t be caught dead with resale.”
Okay, so we’re vandalizing a Porche, but she’s so rich she won’t care.
Right?
Irina is the first to scrunch up her nose, and she turns to Johanna. “Ew, what is that?”
Johanna sniffs the air before clapping a hand over her mouth.
Whatever regret I might have felt a moment ago is erased. This was worth it to see Alek’s face, which is twisted in disgust. Konstantin jumps to his feet and backs away from the table, knocking his chair over in the process.
I cover my face, too, not only to block out the smell but to hide my laugher. Prisha leans her head on my shoulder to keep from falling over in a fit of giggles.
The stench is permeating the air now, and the other students closest to the source start to vocalize their displeasure. Soon, everyone in the hall can smell it, and they turn their heads in the direction of the Aristocrats.
Alek picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder before walking out of the hall, with Konstantin close behind.
“It’s coming from your bag,” Irina says, pointing at the Birkin.
Johanna picks up her purse and lifts it to her nose. Her eyes bug out, and she drops it to the floor before leaping up from her chair. She makes a mad dash for the nearest trash receptacle and pukes.
Prisha and I lose it. There’s no masking our laughter as chaos erupts around us, with students running in all directions to escape the dining hall.
“Come on, let’s go,” Prisha says between giggles, wiping tears from her eyes.
We grab our stuff and dart into the hallway. When we’re far enough away from the stench, we double over with laughter onto the staircase, clutching at the stitches in our sides.
I don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard I cried, but it’s cathartic.
Even if I had to sacrifice a Birkin bag to feel some semblance of joy again.
Johanna doesn’t show her face in class the rest of the afternoon. When the teacher dismisses us for the day, the students burst into chatter about what happened at lunch, though no one seems to suspect us.
I don’t know how we got away with it, but everyone was so distracted by the odor that our evil twin laughter went unnoticed.
Leaning over my desk, I slide my textbook into my bag on the floor. A pair of men’s shoes come to a stop beside me, and for a moment, I think they belong to Alek.
