I FREEZE INSTANTLY. LEAH'S EYES flicker to me, but I only see this as a vague movement in my periphery.

I am looking straight at Benjamin, who hasn't heard the screaming. Almost everyone waves it off, thinking of it as some sick joke. But who would joke about that? I actually can't see anything in the water, aside from Benjamin's legs, lazily kicking up and down.

Someone else screams, stumbling and causing a domino effect. Then I know without a doubt that the girl was telling the truth, and the Monarchy is to blame. People now are either running away from the tank, or towards it — phones primed to video, or with concern on their faces.

Then I catch a momentary glimpse of it, blocked by the bobbing of heads and waving of hands. A massive, writhing serpent tossing about in the water, inching up towards Benjamin.

It feels the bottom half of me has been pulled into a black hole, because from my waist down, there's only a negative space, no feeling, nothing. My gut is being dragged down into that black oblivion of fear, my mind following suit. A faint buzzing is all that's left in my head. I couldn't possibly string together a thought right now, let alone talk.

All I can do is run towards the tank, slightly unsteady on my feet.

"Benjamin!" I yell, waving frantically and running towards him. He's bobbing like a stick in the sea, rubbing his blue face with blue hands, alleviating nothing.

I can't believe it, all this pandemonium and he still hasn't figured it out. Though to be fair, he looks on the verge of falling unconscious. I suppose the division between cheering and screaming is slim, and he might have not noticed the difference in the crowd's emotions. For a few moments, he's unperturbed by what's happening around him.

Except, Benjamin is a naturally perceptive person. It's not long at all before he looks around, confused as to what changed. He looks to me for answers, searching my face. I'm still choking on words, but bring up my hand to tell him to look into the water.

So he does, and I swear, his skin pales so much, it's transparent.

Benjamin pushes away from the centre of the tank, latching onto the edge and pulling his feet up the sides of it. "Shit. Fucking hell. What the fuck? That better not be venomous!"

Though I've been shocked out of thinking too much, a flicker of surprise registers in my brain, because this is the first time I've heard Benjamin swear so profusely. He still clings to the edge of the tank, looking frightened beyond belief. I don't know how I managed to retain this, but a phrase from a nature documentary flashes in my mind like a warning sign.

Snakes draw towards the closest heat source as they are cold-blooded, and require external heat energy to warm themselves.

Remembering this makes me curse my brain, since all it does is tell me that the snake will chase Benjamin until one of them is removed from the tank. Drew has climbed the ladder, perched precariously on the top rung and is in a grapple with Benjamin, trying to pull him out.

With tremendous grunts, Drew manages to heave Benjamin's torso out of the tank and climb down the ladder a bit, to give him space to get out. He looks so cold; his lips deep purple and his teeth chattering a mile a minute. Why is he that cold? Landing with a loud squelch, Benjamin drops down the ladder.

His hair is dripping wet, his shirt all soaked and clinging to his toned abdomen. I know Benjamin's actually pretty strong, considering the fight he put up against Reece at the start of the year, but right now he looks impossibly fragile. I unravel his jacket from around my waist and drape it around his shoulders.

Benjamin grasps the lapels of his jacket with blue, shivering fingers. I peer up at him desperately, gauging his condition. When he meets my eyes and gives me a small, reassuring smile, I release a relieved sigh. He'll be okay.

Then I pivot on my heels, out for blood.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

How come whenever shit goes south, Brittany is nowhere to be seen?

I remember she only showed up at the very end of the carwash to collect her new car. She was nowhere to be seen during the assembly either, only appearing in Principal Fisher's office well after the action had passed.

What happened to the water to make Ben so cold, on a humid fall evening? How could so many people be pressed up to the stage yet not notice the snake before the dunking happened? I am sure Benjamin, at one point, looked down into the water and didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Who is responsible? Terrence knew. But did he plan it? Or was he carrying out orders?

Did Principal Fisher allow this? He has a track record of turning a blind eye where necessary, and also disappeared quite conveniently before the incident happened. Yes, he let Drew and I off with the propaganda video quite leniently. But that means he could be just as loose with the Monarchy.

I bet Brittany would have all the answers I'm looking for. But she's nowhere around the action. She just foments it, from afar.

Next best is Madison. The girl who gossips, who prides herself for being first on the scene. She'll know something, too. Not far from the stage, I catch a glimpse of her familiar silhouette walking quickly away. She must have been here to see the show, and now she's fleeing the scene like everyone else. Granted, most other people are leaving because they're freaked out, demanding answers from an adult or getting early seats on the football field.

I pull up beside her with a burst of speed, tapping her on the shoulder. "Madison. Want to explain what the fuck is going on?"

Madison turns around with blank eyes. I can't tell if she knew about this or not, or if she's just responding to drama like the vulture she is. She blows out a puff of air, which lifts up a strand of her blond. "Nope. Not really."

"Well, you'd better."

"Honey, just leave it. You can't make me talk." I raise an incredulous eyebrow just as she giggles. "Ironic, I know."

"Are you kidding me? Someone put a boy in a confined space with a goddamned snake. Have you heard of snakes? They're about yea high, really long and able to kill by venom and constriction? You know, little cold-blooded death machines? That's reason enough to put you in prison." After realising my exaggeration, I say in a quieter voice, "Or something like that."

Still, no response.

"You'd get along with them well." I refocus on Madison, switching tactics. "Considering you are cold-blooded and quite savage."

"Honey, you are so annoying. All your whining is ruining my vibe," Madison snaps suddenly, slipping her phone into her pocket. "You want the whole story, don't ask me. Ask Terrence, because I know you'll blame every one of us before you even consider that he's the only evil mastermind here. Because he's played you so well." I stiffen at her words, but she doesn't relent. "Besides, I would be more worried about what the water did than the snake."

"What? What does that mean?"

"Go check on your friend, honey."

The mind-numbing concern for Benjamin returns to the pit of my stomach, heavy and dense. He was okay when I left the group. My head pounds as I race back to the tank.

Passing by the Homecoming Fair information kiosk, I see that Principal Fisher has reappeared. Personally, I think he should have ditched all together, because now he is accosted by a mob of people — majority parents, with some young children and teenagers interspersed throughout — and looking overwhelmed with himself. I overhear panicked conversations.

"What has this town come to?"

"Are you not going to go to the media about this?"

"I'm considering pulling my child out of your school, this is unacceptable."

"This is not funny, Principal Fisher."

"You'll be expecting a call from my lawyer."

"What if it had been my daughter selected for this? She has acute ophidiophobia!"

All the while, Principal Fisher is repeatedly yelling things like, "Please, calm down. We'll sort this immediately, and find the people responsible. If you could just enjoy the rest of the Fair, that would be the best thing for everyone. We need not make a fuss."

I roll my eyes. He knows the people responsible, but he just won't act on it.

Nearing the stage, I see a makeshift barrier made from metal stanchions and decorative bunting. Keeping people away, rather successfully. Nothing exciting is happening here now that the football game is about to start, and everyone's vacated the stage. The looming tank of water looks ominously still.

When I arrive at the tank, now blissfully devoid of fairgoers, I find all my friends exactly where I left them. Benjamin has since slid his arms into his jacket and zipped it up, all the way to his chin. He looks up when he notices me clambering over the rope of bunting.

"How are you feeling, Ben?" First and foremost, all snakes aside, I have to make sure he's alright.

"Let's— not— do—" Benjamin is having a little trouble speaking, every syllable dissolving into chattering teeth, "—that again."

"Why is he so cold?" I ask numbly.

"We don't know," Leah answers. "He can't seem to warm up."

"Dude looks like an ice pop," Drew chuckles.

Delaney offers, "I'd give him tequila if I had some handy."

Though I roll my eyes at Drew and Delaney's comments, I know that they are only trying to alleviate some of the pressure on us. Neither of them are touchy-feely, but I know from their drawn features that they're concerned about Ben as much as I am.

"I saw this weird mist coming down the side of the tank," I recall in a small voice. "You— you don't think they would've put something in there—"

"—like some parts dry ice or liquid nitrogen?" Delaney suggests sharply. "They would have. He would have."

I don't know what to say. I feel shocked, disappointed and hurt, because I somehow got it into my head that Terrence was not like the other Monarchs. That he might trick people, but he wouldn't put them in harm's way like Reece or Derek did. Now I see that he, and the pranks he pulls, can be just as bad.

"We'll never know what it was," Benjamin's tremulous voice cuts through my thoughts. I meet his eyes, deep blue-grey in the nighttime. "It'll have evaporated by now. No trace."

No. The Monarchy can't just get away with this. "Then we get the snake, at least. Someone's got to pay."

"Yeah. There's a problem with that plan," Delaney's voice calls. She's climbed onto the stage, walking the circumference of the cylindrical tank. I follow her motions, peering down through the refracted depths of water.

The snake has vanished.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

I don't know how he managed to do it, or even when, but somehow, Terrence managed to make a solid snake vanish. Right into thin air — or, rather, water.

It's like the ground has shifted beneath my feet. My head is twirling, heart thumping like a bass drum, the fast-paced pumps of my blood reverberating all throughout my ears. Questions upon questions race through my head, but one clear thought keeps me anchored.

I'm going to find out exactly what happened.

My hands feel frozen stiff, even though I've had them in my pockets ever since Benjamin got out of the tank. When Delaney's voice shatters my reverie — who has dragged Principal Fisher from the information kiosk to look into the issue — what I hear makes my whole body run cold.

"You kids are trying to cause trouble. There was no snake in the first place."

"What? Do you think we're lying about this?" Delaney hisses, eyes furious and burning.

"I never said that," Principal Fisher replies, "But, you should know, Delaney, that I can't draw assumptions from what could have been a juvenile prank."

I nudge past Delaney, drawing up the confidence to say, "What about all the parents who complained?"

"They could just have easily gotten the rumour of a snake from their children. I've been a bit too busy tonight dealing with the administrative side of the Fair. And without physical evidence, I'm not going to look into it because I personally never saw a snake."

"That's because you left right after you introduced the dunking!" I protest. "Now, I'm starting to wonder if that was more than just a coincidence."

Principal Fisher narrows his eyes, a dangerous warning that despite his ignorance he is still the principal. He is still powerful. "What are you trying to say?"

I'm trying to say that he's corrupted. He probably took a hint from Terrence, and knowingly removed himself from the scene of the crime to give himself an alibi. To make sure that what we say can't be counted as evidence. Because, we are only kids, after all.

It's as if he's trying to convince us that he is the good guy here, but the madness in his eyes is something akin to a smoking gun. I draw in a breath. "I'm not saying anything. I just want answers."

I don't know how Terrence managed to charm him, or Brittany manipulate him, or Reece bribe him, but now that Principal Fisher is in the palm of the Monarchy's hand he can't help us any more. Other than providing the occasional slap on the wrist where harsher consequences might be incurred.

Tonight, he is utterly powerless.

And it's how I realise that the madness in his eyes is a plea. A plea for us to drop the whole topic, spare him from dealing with the aftermath, and preserve his dignity. Fisher's hands are tied. Maybe he'd rather appear to be in control than have to face the shame of going to the authorities and asking for help.

This enrages me, because through some tremendously inconvenient twist of fate the only person who can take this to the authorities didn't actually see anything. Or won't admit to anything. Meaning we have no evidence.

And I know it sounds preposterous that a snake somehow got in and out of a nine foot tank. I know ­— even I didn't believe it, at first — but after hordes of parents and teenagers alike have screamed their butts off about it, him still not listening is enough incentive to look for help somewhere else entirely.

So, we take matters into their own hands. I text Drew to start looking online for proof, with Benjamin if he feels up to it. They'll resort to scouring their social media accounts, trying to find some video or status of the elusive snake.

Delaney and I, frustrated and confused, search every inch of the dunk tank. There is not one corner of the symmetrical tank the snake could have hidden in. Nor is there any trace on the ground indicating the snake had somehow escaped.

"Ugh!" Delaney, having reached the limits of her composure, slams her palms on the tank. "This is crazy! There can't be that many places a snake can be."

I sigh. "Do you want to try talking to Fisher again?"

"Like he'll listen to us. I bet he just shut his eyes the whole time so he could legitimately say he didn't see anything. Stupid puppet."

Quite ferociously, she kicks the tank. "Ow! Shit!"

As she stumbles on her uninjured foot, cursing all the while, I glance around the fairground. I don't really know what we are going to do with the snake if we find it, but I am still planning to find out exactly how Terrence managed to pull it off.

"Delaney," I resume scanning the tank, though I know there will be no change from a minute ago, "Keep looking. At least until I get back."

Delaney scoffs, sitting on the lowest rung of the ladder propped against the tank. "It's no use. Your eyes and brain are perfectly functional. Do you see any snake here?"

I turn to Delaney, "Are you sure the snake disappeared? Maybe someone took it out when we went to the courtyard? Or maybe it got out when you—"

"Unlike you, I've been here the whole time. First the moms ran to berate Fisher, then everyone went to the football stadium. No-one came up to the stage, nor did it slither up the walls. Or do you not trust my word?"

"Delaney—" Leah starts.

I exclaim, "Of course I trust your word—"

"No, there's no snake," continues Delaney. "And without it, there is no possibility of Fisher listening to us. We'd have a better chance making a blind man see than making an ignorant man listen to us."

"Alright, I get it. So what?" I yell, equally as disheartened as Delaney, but refusing to show it. "We just give up, go home, and forget about it?"

"Well, what else can we do? Monarchy wins this round. As per. This is how it works, Sophie. The carwash and the video might have gone our way, but they are the outliers." Delaney points a finger to the tank, her grey eyes flashing. "Not this."

"Delaney," Leah says sharply.

Everyone's attention snaps to her, even Drew and Ben at the other end of the stage. We've never heard this strict, unyielding tone of voice from Leah before. Then again, our group has never experienced such a tense situation before. I knew the Revolution was going to be a turbulent and bloody battle, but expecting something to happen doesn't mean I'm emotionally prepared to weather it.

Ben being targeted in front of the school has struck all of us deeply. I was worried sick about him, still am. Add to that stomach-churning concern the frustration of being called liars, being roadwalled by Madison and not getting the answers we deserve, the group is on the precipice of a full blown argument.

"If there's one thing I learnt from watching Faune go through months of bullying, it's that the Monarchy plays the long game," Leah tells us harshly. "They didn't let the carwash or video throw them off. Delaney's right, they'll keep launching shit like this at us. This isn't an outlier."

Delaney smirks and crosses her arms. Leah shoots her a look, continuing, "But Sophie's right, too. We shouldn't ever give up. We need to play the long game, too."

At her words, a layer of calm settles over the group. Ever since Terrence stepped onto the stage I've been a cauldron of bubbling paranoia, anxiety and upset. The excitement and awe at the Fair was effectively wiped out by him, but Leah's words feel like fresh, blossoming sprouts on a desolate floodplain.

"Answers, justice, consequences — we're not always going to get what we want. But we can at least stop the Monarchy getting what they want," Leah explains emphatically.

"Yeah," Drew agrees. "They would get some sick satisfaction out of the fact that we're here bickering, alone, not enjoying the Fair one bit."

Leah gives him a grateful, understanding smile. "So screw this. Halftime hasn't come yet." She glances between Delaney and I with a hopeful expression. "Perhaps I'm biased towards the marching band because of my friends, but I say we just go watch the rest of the game."

Delaney and I give each other identical, plotting grins. The long game. We can do that. 

And it will be all the sweeter when we triumph.