Dear Chloe,

You never understood, but even then you always knew best.

Lola's beautiful. She belongs in freaking magazines, not stupid high school. I thinks she knows that, and that's why she treats everyone like trash.

God, I'm so glad I don't have to see her every day. I used to feel so privileged when she looked at me, but now it would make my blood curdle, and I'd be running for the hills. Don't ever get in her way, Chlo. Be careful. Do what you usually do, blend in and have fun with people on level three. They're the best people in that damn school.

I love you, and miss you.

Mon

I folded up the patterned paper, my fingernails gliding against its frilled edges. I promised myself I'd write to her every day I could. Maybe she'd get sick of it. Oh well, she should have been here anyway.

My eyes felt like they weighed a ton beneath the charcoal that coated them. It had cost me more than I was willing to admit to stock up my make-up collection, and now, wearing more make-up than I had in my entire life, I started to question whether it was worth it.

It had taken hours to shower, shave, exfoliate, cleanse, tone, moisturize, brush my teeth and a billion other things I wrote on the damn list stuck to my mirror. My mother, ecstatic that I had the so-called privilege of attending a high school party, had stuck her head into my room at every opportunity, offering me tips and reminding me silly, obvious things like 'don't take drinks from strangers!'

I loved her deeply, really, but my mother was too enthusiastic for her own good. And I meant enthusiastic about everything. I guess it would take an optimist to keep my dad around, so it made sense, but it also grew annoying.

"Are you sure you don't want to try the golden dress me and your grandma picked out last fall?" she asked, her chestnut locks bouncing against her shoulders as she darted into my room again.

"Yes, Mom," I replied in a clipped tone. I knew the more reasons I offered as to why I didn't want to wear the dress, the more reasons she'd provide for wearing it. I mean, it was out of season. The level one girls would pick that up in an instant.

It was a gorgeous dress, with full sleeves and a skirt trailing down to my knees, but it would have the complete opposite effect that I wanted tonight. Instead I was wearing an off the shoulder black shirt with black jeans and black strappy heels. I'd counteracted the black somewhat with a maroon clutch and red lips, but I still felt a little scary.

I was only showing a portion of my torso and, admittedly, quite a lot of cleavage, but my mother was intent on hinting that I looked like a prostitute.

"Really, this is a pretty casual party. Just trust me," I reasoned. Mom's weak spot was the words, just trust me. My Dad used them on her all the time. Mostly for when he needed to cover up his affairs.

"Well, make sure you're not out too late. And text me if anything happens. Really, I don't mind waking up in the middle of the night to pick you up if you need it."

I rolled my eyes, because she'd said it so many times now I could quote it. "Yes, Mom."

When my eyes met themselves in the mirror I felt at least a little accomplished. I'd been quiet all week, warranting no dramatic attention to my change of style over the summer. But tonight I was determined to make my debut.

I was never one to receive much direct attention. If I received any, it was me and Monica or me and my family. The feeling was unfamiliar, and that made the idea of receiving it exhilarating, which consequently made me scared. I wasn't here to crave attention. I was here to seek revenge for everything they did last year.

I'd been reluctant to give Jack my address, mostly because the only one who had really been to my house was Monica. My house was secretive, and that was going to change if my plan went accordingly.

He was perfectly on time, the thrumming of his Range Rover was on my street at exactly half past nine. Like most people at Arlington Prep, Jack came from a filthy rich family and his car make and model only amplified that.

He let out a low whistle, and it was then that I noticed the other people in the back seats. They were all recognizable as peers from my classes, all barely resting on level two of the social pyramid.

"Nice outfit, Chloe."

"Thanks," I said, shooting a welcoming smile at Jack as I climbed into the car besides a girl named Claire from my chemistry class.

"Seriously, where did you get your top?"

I was saved from answering when the stereo was turned up too loud for my voice to carry. I hadn't realized Jack had taken up the role of designated driver for so many people, and I was kind of hoping for a more intimate setting where I could get my head straight.

Li Yao threw parties regularly. I saw the pictures on Facebook which would flood my news feed most Saturday mornings. They varied from small gatherings to huge events, catering for hundreds of drunk teenagers at a time. Only, it wasn't quite a tasteless mess, the people invited were all from Arlington or the other private schools in the area. They all had money, and in some aspects it made it worse.

Jack found a park down the road, where we could still hear the music travelling through the humid air. It was barely a few weeks into autumn, and California was taking its time to shake off the summer heat.

As the others slowly trailed in front of me, Claire long given up on making conversation, I tried my best to level my mind. My first order of business wasn't to find William. No, that was for later on in the night. I had some work to do first.

I had information from listening to the whispers around me, from lingering by conversations for a few beats too long and from having a knack for internet stalking. I was also good at being resourceful with information, like making phone calls and acting like I already knew everything, and it led to facts being leaked thoughtlessly, such as those slipping through the lips of a receptionist, exclusive information mindlessly outed without a thought.

There was, for example, a very good chance that Sophie Rutherford was sneaking around with someone. This wouldn't be news, considering that Sophie, Lola's best friend, wasn't exactly shy about her sexual encounters. But that was what made it all the more important. Because, if my observations were correct, she was hiding it.

The house was enormous, to no surprise. Not only did Li's parents own large shares in a multi-billion dollar mining corporation, but her mother was also a Chinese supermodel. It was only fitting that they lived in a mansion. After passing through the iron gate and making our way up a large, winding driveway, I realized the party was already well underway. People milled on the balcony above us and the front door was spread open to reveal a busy foyer.

It was clear Li had prepared for the large quantity of people. Furniture had been orientated to leave room for large dancing areas, and I was sure valuables had been moved to another floor. The kitchen had turned into a fully-fledged bar, different spirits lining the table and large containers spilling with ice holding what looked like bottles of champagne.

Though I'd only experienced it once, the setting was familiar to me, and it made my stomach roll. A wave of uncertainty hit me as I reminisced in the memories of my last, and only, party.

"Come on, Chlo, let's get you a drink," Jack said, grabbing my shoulders hard enough to jolt me from the resurfaced memory of Monica sitting on a marble bench-top similar to Li's, her long legs swinging and her heels clinking against the cupboard doors.

"A drink sounds great," I said robotically, my internal voice screaming at myself to pull it together.

"A shot for you and a soda shot for me so I can at least join in," he suggested as he led me to the pile of shot glasses, pulling two out and grabbing a large bottle of vodka.

I looked around, I hadn't realized the others had already blended into the crowd. There must have been hundreds of people around the first floor, and I recognized only a few of them. My task was becoming daunting.

My hand found its way around the shot glass Jack pressed into it and before I knew it he was counting down from three and the burning liquid was making its way down my throat.

"One for the road?" he asked as he turned away again to grab two paper cups.

"I'll just have a Coke," I said quickly, my tongue desperate for something to remove the alcoholic tang from my lips. I shouldn't have been drinking anyway, not if I was here for Monica.

"Are you serious?" he asked, laughing in amusement. "Come on, Chlo. It's your first party, right? You have to let loose a little."

"Not my first," I reminded him, my voice rising over the sound of the music.

He shrugged and filled my cup with Coke before handing it to me. I sipped at it, observing the scene around me. I'd have to break away from Jack soon if I wanted to find the elite of Arlington. If he was with me, he could easily get suspicious.

"You know, I always saw you as the quiet one," Jack mused. "Something tells me things have changed."

I didn't know whether to feel insulted. "What makes you think that?"

"I don't know. The way you're dressing, and the fact that you're here to begin with. It's like you're finally uncovering yourself from blending into the background." He leant back against the wall and observed me.

I guess I was uncovering myself, even if it wasn't the real me. I'd gone from the awkward girl with bony legs, freckles, and mousy hair, to a girl who spent her allowance on clothes and makeup, managing to maintain her tan from the expensive holiday her dad had spoiled her with. It wasn't that I didn't care about my appearance before, I just never went this far. I still wouldn't, if I wasn't trying to blend in with those I needed to take down.

There had been small changes in the first week back. I hadn't missed the lingering glances on my legs or the way people took a double take when I stood outside of my locker. A familiar teacher had even questioned who I was when I went to sit down in physics, and I'd been the victim of a few horrible pick up attempts by boys in my classes.

But, I still hadn't managed to crawl onto the radar of level one.

Which is why I needed someone else to do it for me.

"Maybe I never belonged in the background," I murmured, playing on my character, the popular, brutal girl I needed to be to achieve the status I desired.

"Maybe you didn't," Jack concurred.

I gave him a confident smile before turning away. "I'm going to find a bathroom. I'll catch up with you later, yeah?"

I sensed Jack's surprise, but his expression didn't falter. "Sure thing."

Before I could find an excuse to stay with the familiar and comforting presence of Jack Thomas, I dove into the crowd, finding enough space to maneuver myself to the staircase. It was dotted with people sitting, some on other's laps and some looking as if they were already passed out despite the early hour. But I knew that if the crowd I was looking for was here they wouldn't be lingering with the commoners on the ground floor. And they would be here. Li was a level one herself.

My suspicions were proven correct when the murmur of people led me to the back balcony, overlooking a large, well-tended to backyard and a luxurious pool, illuminated by colored lights strobing beneath the water.

It wasn't as hectic away from the bottom floor, and the music was relatively dulled compared to the almost unbearable booming downstairs. Twenty or thirty people were situated on the large deck, visible through a gigantic window. I recognized them instantly, Sophie, Li and Lola clad in sparkly dresses and draped on banana lounges and love seats. Francis Greene and Max Heath were standing against the railing of the balcony laughing.

Others who seemed vaguely familiar from inter-school lacrosse games and other events graced their presence. Everyone was beautiful and poised. Confidence seemed to seep in through the open sliding door and it suffocated me with intimidation, closing off my air supply and making me choke.

How could I get in there? How could I break into that enclosed group, after seeing the damage they were capable of?

I took a step back clumsily on my heels. I knew they were ordinary, and nothing worthy of being admired or worshiped. But I also knew they were dangerous, and ruthless, and one wrong step would leave me vulnerable.

I needed help. If I wanted to get near enough to find my evidence, I couldn't waste time floating on the sidelines. I needed to confront William Bishop and I needed to do it first.

My plans needed to be reordered.

As my gaze lingered on William's nonchalant posture where he spoke with his friends, a golden laugh emitting from his lips, I figured the best way to do that was to play the part.

I pushed my shoulders back, fluffed up my hair, and plastered a mysterious smirk onto my lips, as if I belonged beside the members of Arlington's elite.

If only Monica could see me now.

The warm air curled around me like a deadly embrace. My heart stammered a little as I reciprocated the curious glances that arose from my entrance.

Act like you're supposed to be here.

Without hesitating in fear, I continued my confident facade, bringing the cup in my hand to my lips and letting my eyes wander in assessment of the people around me. Like I was judging them.

When nothing changed, and no openings enveloped me into anyone's conversation, I tried to act cool, sauntering over to a small table and placing my drink down instead. I unzipped my purse and pulled out my phone. If I looked like I was meeting someone up here, then I wouldn't look as misplaced as I felt.

"Hey."

I spun around at the cool hand which had grazed my shoulder, meeting Max Heath's icy stare. "Hey."

His thin lips curled slightly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're from Arlington, right?"

Considering I've been in your math class since freshman year, you'd think you'd know me by now. I gave him a saucy grin. His ignorance worked in my favor. "Yeah, you are too, right?"

"Right." The way his eyes traced my body made me simmer under the attention. Could he see right through me? He ran a hand through his dark hair and cocked an eyebrow. "You know, I don't think I've seen you around."

"I've been pretty quiet," I said with a shrug. "I've got to say, I didn't quite recognize you straight away either."

His eyes narrowed. Insulting the ego of a level one monarch was easily done, and challenging their popularity was unspoken of.

"Come have a drink with us," he said slowly. His hand gestured to where he stood previously with Francis.

Looking his way brought with it a flood of cold through my veins. I hated Francis Greene more than I could even put in words.

"I'd love to."

Max's hand lingered on my back as he steered me towards his prior position. I tried to loosen my muscles to no avail. No matter how much I'd told myself I'd need to pretend, I was struggling to be near these people.

"Maxie," Francis slurred warmly as he put an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Who is this?"

Max looked to me, and for a moment I thought he might know my name, but instead he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"I'm Chloe."

"Chloe," Francis cooed in a way that made my blood boil. I looked to the girls only feet away, where Lola, his girlfriend, laughed elegantly over the rim of her glass of champagne.

"What would you like to drink, Chlo?" Max asked, his lips coming much too close to my ear. His use of my nickname made me tense further.

I needed to get William's attention. Not his. "I already have a drink."

"But I bet I could make you a better one," he said. I felt his hand against my waist. "What would you like?"

I knew much better than to accept a drink from any of the boys on level one.

"I'll tell you when I want one," I purred, humoring his advances as I took a step away. If William wasn't going to come to me, I was going to need to go to him.

Act like you belong.

"If you don't mind, I just need to speak to someone quickly," I said innocently, drawing my eyebrows in an apologetic smile.

"You're going already?" Max said, letting out a booming laugh. "But the fun's just started."

"Maybe she'd rather someone else," Francis said. He looked entertained, sipping his drink lazily as he leaned against the rails.

Maybe I would rather hook up with a ferret.

"Really, I'll be back," I promised them, a sour taste spreading through my mouth. "The party's just started, right?"

Francis gave a devilish smile. "Of course."

I tried not to stumble as I took another step back. My target was only a few yards away. He was leaning against the deck, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the darkening sky. I thanked my lucky stars that he was by himself.

"William Bishop?" I posed as a question, as I became within ear shot. My heart thumped hard. I needed this to work.

William belonged in fashion campaigns that graced billboards, not in high school. He pursued almost every kind of sport Arlington offered, and fit in with the most elite of students. That was close enough to fame.

He turned around, looking bored as his eyes looked me up and down. "That's me." A few seconds passed, and his expression grew quizzical. "Who are you?"

"My names Chloe Whittaker," I said, trying to make sure my breath was even. "And you're about to know me very well."