Pittsburgh REPRESENT

Prom: the final frontier.

This year it was actually going to happen. This year I was finally going to conquer my fear and participate in something most of my friends thought was fun. I couldn’t begin to understand how something so anxiety inducing could be fun, but then again, they didn’t have my problems, so I guess it was understandable. The thought of it actually turned my stomach, but I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t go to prom this year, I might end up dead. Literally.

The reason I’m so opposed to prom dates back many years ago in my preadolescence. For now, living in this small town for so long has really started to get to me. It feels like the world is caving in on itself, and the bubble is about to burst. Prom is only one of the ridiculous traditions that is of the highest importance here, and my group of friends, though not exactly the most popular crew, fully expected each of us to pair off and attend the social function together. Well, at least I didn’t have to worry about finding a date.

At least, that’s what I thought. My date-to-be, Cam, came down with the chicken pox three days before the dance, so he’ll be staying at home on Saturday night with oven mitts taped to his hands. (Side note: Who in the hell gets chicken pox at age seventeen??) Naturally, the town crier sent up the alarm: “HEAR YE, HEAR YE! MARIA ESPOSITO SEEKS HER PRINCE CHARMING FOR THE BALL!” At least that’s what happened in my head. In reality, the town crier was my best friend Emily posting a message on Facebook that sounded a little too much like a Craigslist Casual Encounters ad. I begged her not to click “Post,” not to destroy what dignity I had left, but as with all best friends, there was no convincing her otherwise. But to my amazement, it worked. Within minutes, I had a new prom date. If only I had known that it was Tony de Luca, son of Italian mob boss, Dominic de Luca.

In all honesty, I’ve watched enough teen romantic comedies that it shouldn’t have taken me so long to figure out the answer. What we needed was a makeover montage. You know the kind where the homely girl’s friends put her in a dress, some makeup, and take off her glasses, and suddenly she’s the hottest ticket in town? Everyone realizes what a great person she was now that she wasn’t completely overlook-able? Yes, that should solve my problem nicely. 

Except the makeover wouldn’t be for me. It would be for Tony de Luca. Would a tux and a haircut fix his problems? Would I have to fight of tons off girls once we got to the prom? 

More importantly, would the mob put out a hit on me if I put some concealer on his zits?

 At least we won’t be a laughing stock, I thought to myself. Aloud I said, “Looking good Tony.”

 A sheepish grin fit on his face. He didn’t look half bad when he smiled. He rubbed a hand on his cheek. “I don’t know how I’m going to keep this on all day.” I reached over and pulled his hand away from his face. “By not rubbing it off. That’d be a good start.”

We walked down the escalator and through the double doors that led to the darkened parking garage. Even at 10am, the garage was still full of cars left over from the night before when the only night club in town, Lightening Blue, had its usual Friday night half-priced drinks special for the ladies. You just have to make it ten more hours, I told myself. What could go wrong in ten hours? I quickly found the answer to that question as we approached my car and the sound of a gunshot echoed through the parking garage.

“What was th-”

“Quiet!” I shushed him as we heard voices moving steadily closer to our hiding spot.  I crouched further in the shadows of the SUV, my heart pounding.  I was suddenly very grateful that the green living movement hadn’t made its way to Sunnyvale yet. Tony stuck his head around the side of the SUV before I could stop him. 

“What the hell are you doing?  They’ll see us!” I hissed at him.

“It’s,” he leaned farther forward. “It’s my Uncle Vito and some other guy.  I can’t see his face.  They’re dragging something behind them. Something big.”

“Probably the body of whoever they just shot! And if they see us, we’re next!”

“Come on. It’s my uncle.  He wouldn’t shoot anyone.  I’ll just ask him what’s going on.”

“Are you kidding me?  You’re going to just stroll out there and ask a murderer what’s up?” For the son of a mob boss, this kid was pretty clueless.  Or pretty brave.

“He’s not a murderer.”

“We heard a gunshot and he’s dragging what’s obviously a body!”  

As we argued over what to do, the two men and whatever they were dragging (A body.  It has to be a body, right?) hopped in a car a few rows down and took off.  Tony and I crawled out of our hiding spot and ran over to my car.

“We have to call the police! Where is my phone?” I scrambled through my purse. My hands were shaking and I could feel myself sweating right through the make-up I’d just spent the last of my paycheck on.  So much for my cat-eye and subtle glow.  I was glowing like a pig now.

“Maria, wait.  We can’t call the police. Let me call my dad first, ok?”

He pulled out his phone, while I tried to calm myself down. So my prom date is the son of a mob boss and we just witnessed him probably murdering someone.  No big deal right?  It’ll be fine.  Everything’s fine.  Deep breaths.

‘Hey, uh, Maria?  My dad wants to talk to you.”

Me? Why does he want to talk to me?!

Because the gun shot, Uncle Vito, and the body he dragged out of here? They were all adding up in my head. Someone had been following us, and they’d been taken down by Vito. I knew there was no way in hell that Carlo Esposito, my father and the most powerful mobster in the country, would let me go to prom with Dominic De Luca’s son without sending someone from his security detail to tail me.

And I knew who that someone would be.

Joseph Lucas started working for my dad when he was 12 and I was 10. His dad had been my father’s most dedicated employee until he was killed in a stand off against the De Lucas seven years ago, so Joey’d been around most of my life. He was always such a nightmare–burping in my face and yanking my ponytail. I think my dad felt sorry for him, so once he got old enough, Dad would send him on harmless little errands in exchange for pocket money. When he got older, Joey started boxing with some of the other guys, learning tricks of the trade. And since we were in high school together, Dad eventually hired him to be my own personal security detail.

Emily was the only person who knew why Joey was always hanging around, always in the background, never saying much. My other friends assumed he had a huge crush on me, and couldn’t understand why I didn’t like him back. “He’s so hot,” they’d say. “And cut. And mysterious and brooding.”

Which, objectively, yeah sure whatever. But I’d always resented Joey’s presence, even when my dad wanted him all up in my business and Joey kept his distance anyway. Even when we’d spar at the gym and he’d take his shirt off. Even when he was hanging around the house eating my food, and watching my TV and grinning his stupid charming grin.

I resented Joey because I didn’t need a bodyguard. And I don’t mean I didn’t need a bodyguard because I was unsafe. I didn’t need a bodyguard because I could take care of myself.

My dad didn’t trust anyone - not even Joey - to completely leave me in their hands. I’d been trained in Krav Maga, knife-throwing, and three different types of mixed martial arts, all by private trainers from a very young age. I could shoot a gun better than any of my dad’s employees. I knew how to untie 36 different kinds of knots, blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back. And I could track like a hunter.

Dominic wouldn’t have killed Joey outright. He’s too valuable, has too much intel. They most likely wounded him and are keeping him somewhere…Dominic owned commercial property - a bunch of rundown warehouses on the east side of town. It was a starting point, at least.

I buckled my seat belt and turned to Tony. “I have an errand to run. And I’m going to warn you, it’s probably not how you’d like to spend your Saturday. So I’m giving you the opportunity to get out now.”

Tony looked confused. “Get out? We’re in a parking garage! I need a ride home. I’m not getting out.”

I turned the ignition. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” As we pulled up to the street, I stopped. Left? Or right? Look for details…Vito would’ve been in a hurry…a big hurry.

I let out a snort when I saw it. “Let me guess. Your Uncle Vito drives a big, black Cadillac Escalade?”

Tony’s brow wrinkled. “Yeah, why?”

I pointed at the black marks freshly smeared across the road…headed east. “I know those tires. It’s like the official car of mobsters everywhere.” I took a deep breath. I had ten hours to find Uncle Vito, get Joey back without being seen, and get to the prom. And somehow keep Tony from figuring out what I was doing. And if I failed? Dominic would probably kill me.

I threw my car to the right and slammed on the gas. “Hold on tight, Tony.”

I sucked on my lip and glanced over at him. “Your uncle, uh…he took something of mine. I need to get it back.”

Tony turned towards the window so I couldn’t see his face. “You know, I’m not as clueless as you think I am,” he said, continuing darkly, “or my father thinks I am.”

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. “So you know about—”

“The family business? Your family business?” He cut in. “Enough. So why don’t you just tell me what is really going on?”

In the distance I can see a collection of warehouses near the water, where I’m hoping that Uncle Vito is holding Joey. We’re approaching a small dirt road that seems to meander towards the far end of the buildings, so I hit my blinker and hang a left, coming to a stop just after the turn off. Tony turns to me with a questioning look.

“Alright, I’m just going to lay it all out here. We don’t have time to mess around and I’m done being cautious.” I take a deep breath. “Our dads are some of the biggest Mafia bosses in town. They deal in drugs, but not it’s not the kind you might think.” I feel the words crowding in my mouth, impatient to get out. “There are ways to harness the energy of a large group of people and distill it into an extremely potent yet non-addictive elixir. One drop is better than any high you could imagine, and it lasts for hours. Love, happiness, fear, pain; you name it, they’ve got an elixir for it.”

Tony’s mouth was hanging open, but to his credit, he wasn’t freaking out. “So they…harness the emotions of a crowd?” he asked.

I nodded. “For certain events—like prom, for example—where emotions are heightened, hormones are running wild. Can you imagine the euphoria you would experience if someone put all that energy into a concentrated potion?

“The take is so big that our families will put aside their differences once a year just so we can both get a cut.” I sighed. “I’d finally convinced my dad to put me in charge of making sure things on our end went off without a hitch, but now your Uncle Vito has stolen my bodyguard and I need to know why, because from over here, it looks like your dad is planning to turn on us. And if this happens on my watch, I’m going to have to keep a close eye on both sides to make sure my head stays with my body.”

“What you’re saying sounds insane,” Tony said. “But I also feel like it all makes perfect sense.” He squeezed the armrest and swallowed what seemed like a dozen times before giving me a determined nod. “So then let’s go find out what Uncle Vito is up to.”

“Welcome to Taco Bell, may I take your order?”  the speaker blared at me.

“Yeah, can I have a  Quesadilla with extra pickles?”

“And a Crunchwrap Supreme!”  Tony yells before I can tell him that this isn’t a regular order.

When I pull to the window they hand me a brown paper bag.  And then they give me a small plastic one with Tony’s Crunchwrap.  I throw over the Crunchwrap and pull away from the window without paying.  They know where to get the money for this order.

“I can’t believe you ordered pickles on your quesadilla!  That’s so gross.  Also, why do they have pickles at a Taco Bell?  This day cannot get weirder!”  Tony says around a mouthful of Mexican food.

“I 100% bet that it can.”

I pull into a parking spot and unroll the bag.  I’ve never actually had to place this order before, and now that I have, I’m beginning to realize that shit is serious.  I look at the Emojiicon Extractor 3000 sitting at the bottom of the bag, take a deep breath and reverse the car.  This is going to be one hell of a ride.

When I pull into Vito’s hideout— I notice 2 things:

There are cows (dairy cows as Tony points out)

Sitting in the field behind the cows is a large, round, silver aircraft of some sort.  If I didn’t know any better, I would say it looks like an alien ship.

“Dude, there are ALIENS here,” Tony says.  Well then.  I guess I don’t know better.

My big competition for goalkeeper, Taylor, got bit this summer, the night of the Fourth of July. She and her brothers were lighting illegal fireworks out on the basketball court, late, after everyone had gone home from the city-sponsored show, and when the cops showed up she ran blindly into the woods toward the park, and that’s where it happened. I didn’t find out until I showed up at tryouts, of course, otherwise I wouldn’t have come, or I would have went out, maybe, for volleyball instead. Because if you’ve seen Teen Wolf (and who hasn’t) you know that no one can beat a werewolf on a court or a field. No one. I looked like an idiot out there.

I decided to walk home to let the sweat my dry on my skin and the humiliation mellow. The sidewalks were dotted with fellow classmates shouldering backpacks and making their own disappointed ways home: the wannabe jock parade. I turned the corner onto my street and found myself on the heels of a blonde girl with her head bent down, looking at her phone, probably. Her wavy hair was twisted up and she wore a leather jacket over denim shorts, a slouchy bag bouncing at her side. An art kid maybe?

At the other end of the street, a car engine roared and we both looked up. I didn't even see the other thing approach us until it had barreled into her, knocking her through Mrs. Thompson's honeysuckle bushes. I raced through the break in the sweet-smelling flowers and greenery to find the girl on her knees, straddling the thing, with what looked like a silver letter opener at its throat.  

Part I of the 2017 YASummerShowdown starts Monday, June 18. All posts submitted between that date and midnight, Saturday July 1 will be eligible for Gamemaker Best Bonuses. Sunday, July 2 is the cut-off for Puzzle 2 solutions and for the 5 Photo Hunt photos each team can submit in this scoring period.

ARTIFACT HUNT — PART I

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