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Should I fill his locker with manure, or just let the air out of the tires on his new car? That was my dilemma. I needed some advice. Too bad Peter was the guy I wanted to pull this prank on, because he always gave good advice. Should I try out for the baseball team—did I have a chance? He said go for it, and I made it. I even broke into the starting lineup. Should I drop Algebra II? He said deal with it and start applying myself, and I ended up with a solid B.

He even seemed cool when Kristen, a girl he really liked, asked me to the Turn About dance. Since Peter was my best friend, naturally I asked him if he'd mind if I said yes. He just lowered his head and said, "No problem," real quiet.

"You sure?" I asked.

He looked up and just said, "You'll have a great time."

He was right. Kristen and I had such a good time, we started going out a couple of weeks later.

It was the night before Turn About that Peter actually started our latest round of Prank Wars. The two of us had gone to a movie together. He bought a huge box of popcorn and said, "Let's share it. You have the first bite," and dumped the whole thing over my head. For some reason, that cracked me up, and I couldn't stop laughing. I also knew the next prank was all mine.

So a week later, when Peter opened his gym bag, and found it "mysteriously" filled with shaving cream, I was a little surprised when he only smiled. Peter usually laughed pretty hard at stuff like that.

When his turn came, I didn't think it was all that funny either—I figured we were just in a prank slump. I mean, spray painting my bike pink?

So tires or manure? It was an easy choice after I remembered the embarrassment I felt when the football team saw me riding past the practice field on a pink bike.

I went over to the local farm supply store and picked up a 10–pound bag of The Farmer's Friend All–Natural Fertilizer—the nastiest stuff I could find. Then I sneaked into the locker room before the janitor locked up for the night. I found locker 517 and started working the combination, which I knew by heart—we were best friends, after all.

Kristen usually laughed when I described the latest thing I'd done to Peter. So when she came over to my house to listen to a new CD I'd just picked up, I couldn't wait to tell her about the manure.

"I really got him back good," I said.

She only smiled this time. And even as she smiled, her eyes looked sad. She then said something that didn't have much to do with anything, like she wanted to change the subject. After a really awkward silence, she asked, "Are you and Peter OK?"

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"Well, these pranks—they seem to be getting out of hand."

I was surprised at her concern. She'd never seemed to care about our pranking before.

"We're just having fun. We do it to make each other laugh."

"But you didn't say you tried to be funny. You said you really 'got him back.' That's not a prank. That's revenge."

That irritated me. "Peter and I are best friends. Why would I want revenge?"

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