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.