“I’ll be keeping this,” he says with a devilish smile after he bends down to pick it up. I clench my hands into fists and nod my head. As I walk out of his classroom, I swear I can hear him laughing to himself, and that makes it all worth it. Maybe I didn’t get the explosive reaction I was looking for, maybe I still can’t hate him, and maybe that interaction flustered me a little too much for my liking, but Colby is smiling and laughing with me. So maybe…just maybe…he doesn’t hate me as much as I thought.
“What has you smiling so big this morning, Norah?” Mr. Davis, a fellow English teacher, asks as I’m walking back to my classroom. I shake my head to clear it. I hadn’t even realized I was smiling.
“Oh, nothing,” I say. I step into my classroom feeling lighter than I have in a long while.
The next morning, I get to my classroom at the normal time, thankfully. It was lovely not having to wake up early to carry on the silly prank. It was a fun one to execute, but getting up early got old really fast.
I walk into my room and notice an envelope on the floor just inside the door. I put all my things down on top of my desk and then pick up the envelope. I tear it open to see what’s inside. My hopelessly romantic heart can’t help but first think of secret-admirer letters from a star-crossed lover. And then my mind takes a dark turn and wonders if it could be a ransom note. Anyone trying to get a ransom from me would be sorely disappointed. But of course, it’s neither of those things.
At first, I’m very confused by what I’m seeing. On the top of the page, it has my name in big, bold letters: Norah Fredericka Sullivan. But my middle name is not Fredericka. It’s Christine, so that’s bizarre and confusing. And then underneath is a picture of me from college. It’s truly the worst picture of me in existence besides those weird hospital pictures they used to take of babies right after they were born. I don’t even think they do those anymore, thank goodness. They were always terrifying to look at. I was born with baby acne, so mine was truly terrible to look upon.
This particular picture was taken after watching a sad movie. I had just spent the previous hour sobbing, so my nose and eyes are red. I’m also yelling at my friend Meredith to stop taking pictures of me in the picture.
I’ve begged her to delete it more times than I can count, and I’ve untagged myself multiple times, but she keeps retagging me. She thinks it’s hilarious. She’s evil, and I don’t know why I’m still friends with her.
I keep reading, and then I realize…this is an obituary. My hands shake as I read the bizarre words.
Norah Fredericka Sullivan was born in the town of Waverly, Texas on June 23, 1991. She was beloved by some and despised by many. She spent her days creating chaos in the form of petty pranks. Mayhem followed wherever she trod.
Norah finally gave the poor town of Waverly a break when she attended Texas A&M University and later taught high school English in Plano, TX.
Unfortunately for Norah, when she decided to return home to Waverly, she drove at least one citizen to the brink of insanity with her pranks. He lost his mind and decided to take Norah down with him.
No one knows what happened to Norah. Some say she’s still making mischief in a far-off land. But we all know that Waverly is a safer, quieter place without her. Her loss is mourned by her family and friends.
In lieu of flowers, we ask that you make a donation to Recovering Pranksters Anonymous so that more people can receive the help they need before it’s too late.
What the heck? I flip the page over to see if there’s anything on the back. But there’s nothing. Who would do this? I reread the sort-of obituary again, and my gaze snags on the mention of pranks. There’s only one person I’ve been pranking. I guess he didn’t take that last prank as well as I thought, and he better get ready for the earful I’m about to give him. There are so many hilariously wonderful pranks in the world he could have gone with. And this is what he chooses? It’s too far. It hits too close to home.