So basically the war of the century starts.

To be fair, it was they're fault. They deserved all their chairs and tables to be glued to the floor.

Unfortunately, they retaliated by throwing all our stuff everywhere.

So we spray painted some killer art on their clean white walls.

They TP'd our entire room, with wet toilet paper.

We reorganized all their notes. We got some good blood curdling screams for that one.

They desynced our sound systems.

We took up tap dancing.

They sprayed the entire floor with cooking oil. I have to admit, that one was pretty good.

We stapled all their bags shut.

They nailed our door shut.

We restyled their uniforms.

They cut ours up. That one was nasty.

So basically we just warred for a week.

And everyone was getting nastier and nastier and patience was nearly gone until finally - both our groups run into each other in the middle of the hallway. It's a cowboy movie like showdown. Complete with rolling weeds.

I glare down Milton, he smirks back at me. Everyone is glaring at someone.

"I demand to speak to your leader." I say. This is all Mikey's idea. I was happy to keep pranking but.. . . He says he's older therefore the voice of reason so we should try for a compromise.

Milton snorts. "Speaking."

I narrow my light eyes at him. "Follow me." I say as imperiously as possible, well it could have come off more effectively if I didn't have gym sweats under my school skirt but. . . Oh well.

He does, shockingly silent, into our club room. His Fivers go to follow. My Fivers, teehe, stop them. An argument breaks out.

Milton ignores them and I hear Daniel punch the wall. That guy is seriously wound up too tight.

"So." Milton breaths, like we're friends or something. And flops on our old makeshift couch made out of discarded mattresses and table cloths. "What's this about."

I breath in, count ten, like Mom taught me, and turn a wide, fake smile at him. "We should talk about a ceasefire." There, I said it. Hope you're happy Mikey.

He raises a blond brow at me and his lips quirk to the side. "What's that mean exactly?"

I roll my eyes at his dumbness. "C'mon Milt, just this once, can't you stop being a pretentious Rear End and help me out here?" I finally say and kick at his long outstretched legs.

He avoids my kick and sits up, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped between them. His blue eyes stare straight into mine. I sigh. Here it comes.

"Can't you stop being petty and leave us alone to study?" He says predictably.

One thing I hate about Milton? He's always so stupidly calm and collected, like he knows everything and what's going to happen next and it makes me crazy.

"You guys started it!" I say angrily.

He shrugs. "You continued it."

"We should be allowed to play our music and dance." I snap back.

"We should be allowed to study in peace. Besides, you know yours is a lost cause." He says smoothly. "We want to study, at school, where studying is supposed to take place, you want to play loud music and waste precious hours of the day." He knows he's right. I do too, there's no room for creative license in this numbers oriented school.

It's cut throat, everyone for themselves here. You either get to the top or you ain't work schnitzel.

Which is us.

But not him. He's number one in the entire school, out of all the grades. Number one. A fudging genius.

And that cocky little smirk shows how much he knows it.

I wanna slap him.

"Can't we just have our fun?" I say finally, wishing he'd leave us alone.

"Sorry Mareesa, but you know how much studying means to them. You should just disband and forget this stupidity." He moves to stand. I hiss at him like a cat and grab the water pitcher on the crate table and throw it in his face.

He falls backwards in shock and stumbled so hard he flips the entire fake couch over and I go flying with him. We land awkwardly close, my face inches from his and we freeze.

For one second.

Then I gag and rip myself a safe distance away from his disturbed face. He sits up, eyes flickering around frantically before he stands and adjusts his tie.

"You think anyone saw that?" I gasp looking around worriedly.

He throws me a why –are-you-so-stupid look and fixes his jacket. I cringe at the wet spots growing on it. "I'll send you the dry cleaning bill." He huffs and makes his way out of the room.

The door slams shut and I stare at the vacant spot he just left.

Wait.

I gasp and run out the door scaring anyone on the other side.

"Hey, what about the treaty!? Does is mean it's not happening?" I yell out after his retreating form.

All I get is a frown from Daniel and a glare from Gemina.

Geez, these jerks.

----------

We don't get a treaty. Instead, we get something much worse.

A false accusation.

Dating was not allowed on campus, mostly because we live here and the dorms of male and females are literally attached to each other.

So when I get up the next morning because Sandra's screaming wide eyed at her phone, and she shows me a picture at exactly the most awkward moment when Milton fell back, dragging me with him. . . Schnitzel . . . It looks intimate and- and I literally go puke into the toilet because that's just wrong.

I'm not being immature or anything, from a strangers stand point, Milton is hot . . . But not to me.

He can't be because -

"We are doomed."

I look over at Denim who's already decked in long nails and fake lashes, chewing gum loudly, that's what she does when she's panicking.

Sandra shakes her pretty head and jumps off her bunk, "Someone's framing you, you would never do that to us. . Not with Milton the perfect Butthead." She sounds so sure.

I'm touched.

The boys on the other hand think I've betrayed them and Carlos won't make eye contact with me. He's a bit fidgety when his trust is broken. He's a really shy boy so – it takes a lot for him to trust someone.

"How could you Mareesa!" Mikey sounds devastated.

I sigh and roll my eyes. "For the millionth time Mike, I didn't make out with Milton. That's just disgusting on so many levels,"

Jerry snorts behind me.

He knows what's up.

I scowl at him. "Shut it." I don't want him to spill anything.

Denim comes up behind me and wraps an arm around me protectively. "Hey, back off you guys. Mareesa would never do something so degrading as that, I don't care how sexy that freak is."

We give her weird looks.

She waves them off and poops a bubble.

"Teacher, twelve o clock." Sandra hisses.

Jerry fixes his tie. Carlos pulls off his hoodie, Denim hides her gum behind her ear, Mikey rolls down his pant legs, and Sandra basically tries to look taller.

Like somehow Mr. Hao could rag on her for that. Knowing him he probably would.

"Mareesa Glibson." He stops in front of my startled face and points his intimidating stick at me.

"You have been summoned by principal Dulla"

Now things went from schnitzel to schhhhhnitzels.

-------

You know, nobody likes getting sent to the principal's office. It's the degrading March that does it. Everyone knows where you're headed and rumors start to fly as to why you're headed there. You become popular for five minutes and if it looks really bad you might even be a conversation topic for an entire day!

But not in our school.

In our school, you get sent to the principal's office you're basically walking the death row and everybody avoids eye contact because they're afraid even that will get them second hand punishment.

So yah, people go silent and walk the other way if anyone is headed to the principal's office. But I've been there a few times.... I don't think anyone else has ever. Hum, I must be special.

Mr. Hao stops in front of the office and pushes the door open with a grim reaper look on his face. I nod and prepare for the worst.

Lighting and thunder explode the room as a large chair turns around and in it sits a short tight lipped woman with thick rimmed glasses and forming wrinkles.

"Have a seat Ms. Glibson." Her voice always reminds me of a snake slash non oiled door hinge.

I sit and make sure to put my hands on my lap politely. Small things can make a difference right?

It's quiet. Except for the creepy ticking of that old useless clock over her head . . .it doesn't even work, just makes the sound. I think she keeps it there for the scary effect.

"So, do you know why you're here?" She leans forward on the huge desk and presses her finger tips together severely.

I shrink. "No ma'am. But I guess you're about to tell me." I try to sound respectful even if only just to get the hell out of here.

She smiles. It's a mean tight smile. I don't think these rich people know how to smile for real. I've never seen it if they do. I'm pretty sure I'd die of shock if I did see it though.

"Here, take a look at this." She says and slides a phone with a picture I cringe at seeing again on it.

"Is that you?"

Rich knows it is. "Yes ma'am."

She settles back like a snake who's caught a rat.

"You know the rules against this type of behavior are sever." She continues, satisfied that she's got a really good reason to boot me.

I jump up, startle her, and put my hands on her desk. "Hey, now wait a minute, what about Milton? He's in that picture too, why isn't he getting the lock down punishment?" Stupid question.

Because you can't punish someone with perfect everything.

He really adds to this school's grade rank and they are not about to put any black spot on his pristine record.

"Mr. Parks has assured us it wasn't him initiating this crudeness."

Frack threw me under the bus. And I'm not talking about the principal.

"But I - you can't possibly think that I would - with Milton Parks? Are you cray?" Not the best way to defend myself but . . .

She raises a thinned brow at me and stands up. Gulp.

"Ms. Glibson, are you insinuating that Mr. Parks is lying to me?"

Heaven forbid he do anything like that.

"Yes I am! I didn't make out with that bug, Milton Parks. That's just wrong!" I say, exasperation seeping into my face at how unfair this is. He probably set me up to this because he wants me kicked out, that way my club will be totaled.

And Mom will be devastated.

"Regardless, this type of behavior is expected of someone-" she looks me over with her snake eyes. "-as emotionally unstable as yourself."

Did she just call me a hormonal hoe?

"As for your punishment, it's been requested to lessen the severity of it that fits the crime." She straightens her dark green suit jacket. "So instead of suspension we'll settle for banning your "club". Sounds reasonable enough." She finishes with an air of there's-no-room- for- argument.

Ban our club . . . Milton, that psychopathic freak! This was his plan from the beginning. Should have known. Mustard was always too smart for me to notice the trap until I fell into it.

Tears of anger prick my eyes.

"That is all Ms. Glibson."

Yes, it is. Because I get no say in this and it makes me realize even more how stupid and unfair this place is.

I nod my head and march out of the office. Back straight and shoulders squared. They wanna get rid of our club? Fine. But I'm sure as hell not going to make it easy on them.

Someone once said, if it's unfair, make some noise.

So that's what I'm gonna do.

Watch out Milton and snobs. Because here I come to ruin your peace and quiet!

------

"Our club? Gone!" Sandra gasps dramatically and kicks at a wall in rage.

Denim frowns, her perfect lips pouting red. "That's unfair and now we have nothing to do or any place to practice since they won't let us off campus without permission. Which they won't give because it's us." She sounds super pissed.

Mikey just looks dazed as he pats a sad Carlos on his curly head.

Jerry leans against the wall, eyes hard on the ground and I sit next to his legs in a deep thinking hunch.

What to do, what to do?

"Well . . . Maybe if we go nuts and protest?" I say out loud.

Jerry shakes his head. "They'll punish whoever was a part of it. Might get expelled too."

I tap my chin. "What if we protest with posters and they don't have to know it's us?"

They all give me deadpan stares.

"They'll still know it's us Mareesa, were the only kids whose club was unfairly disbanded." Sandra explains.

I slump. "Oh yah. Nobody else cares."

Being noisy is going to be harder than I thought.

------

The idea finally hits me. So does the floor. It's twelve mid-night and I just fell out of my bed with the brilliant thought. What if we make posters that try to persuade people to stand up for rights? You know, instead of focusing on our poor club, gather support to stand up to tyranny of this school and break free of the grade mongers. Besides, me and my friends are the bottom six of the ranking system.

But everyone else above us is still beneath the top Fivers.

What if the posters call to topple them up of their spots? That would be great, anyone who's suffered at their hands will join this revolution and band against them and their snobby Principal.

And there will be fireworks and Bon-bons at our independence ceremony! And then we can get our club back.

I climb back into bed with a giggle and snuggle down feeling better.

Yes, yes. Good idea. Excellent, take the long way around, build trust and allies and then when they least expect it, rebel!

I snicker in the dark.

Denim grumbles at me from her bunk.

I snicker again.

Oh this was genius! Take that Milton Parks, I can be smart too!