NOTHING ABOUT TERRENCE ADDS UP.

He's rude and fickle, but he makes relentless efforts to talk to me. From the day I sat down on the bus, to the week he spent in detention with me, to singling me out at the Homecoming Fair and the bonfire. I hate to assume he's got a crush, but there is definitely something ulterior underneath his troublesome behaviour.

Think of the devil, and he shall appear. I took a longer shower than usual after Gym class and now I'm late for the next period. When I round the corner, I see Terrence and Reece leaning against the lockers, heads bowed. For some reason, I immediately fling myself back around, hiding from view before they notice me.

Why did I do that?

I'm not afraid of them. I should walk past them with my head held high, not cower like a person trampled by their bullying. My heart is racing, however, and it's not out of fear. As I said, things with Terrence don't add up. I've been thinking about him all weekend, which is more than that troublemaker deserves, and suddenly seeing him in person is too much, too soon.

"Are you bringing anyone to your afterparty?" That's Terrence's voice. They must be talking about one of the notorious sports game afterparties Reece hosts at his house. 

Now that it's early November, the last game of the high school football season is fast approaching. I would attend the game this weekend if I actually cared for football, actually cared for Reece, or had any connection to the attendees of the afterparty. Since I meet none of those criteria, I can look forward to a blissful night of reading my AP English texts and finishing an AP Bio lab report.

"Nah, decided to fly solo this time." From the muffled quality to Reece's deep voice, I gather he's eating something.

"Yeah, right." Terrence scoffs, coldly. "You decided."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Reece asks defensively.

Terrence pauses for a moment as if thinking. "Brittany probably scared off any girl that gets within a mile's distance of you." My eyebrows raise at that. I get that Brittany, the most renowned girl in school, and Reece, the star athlete, would make a good match on paper, but somehow I never pictured them together like that.

"Shut up," Reece growls. "You know she doesn't like me like that."

"I know. You're not her boyfriend. You're her pet—"

Abruptly, I hear scuffling. Perhaps Reece lunged for Terrence. Seconds later, accompanied by a violent shove into the lockers, Terrence huffs, indignantly. There's an angry tone to the way Reece speaks next. "Oh yeah, what about you? Like you have any friends other than us." A brief and slightly awkward pause follows, and in that silence, I contemplate the sad irony in the most popular kids in school being the most lonely, the most isolated.

I know I shouldn't eavesdrop. Not to mention, the longer I stand here the later I become. I could simply take a longer pathway to class instead of incriminating myself by walking around the corner, but I am compelled to listen further. I need to know, to satisfy my curiosity.

"Ha," Reece chuckles at Terrence's silence. "Thought so."

For a long time, I hear nothing. It's likely they've finished their snack and gone to class, but I didn't hear footsteps. Eventually, Terrence asks, "How about Mads and Derek?" I can't see his face, but I can tell Terrence is eager to change the subject.

"I think they're both coming."

"Obviously," Terrence agrees, "Brittany would kill them if they didn't make an appearance."

"Mads said she might bring her brother. Derek said he doesn't want to come. Math homework."

This is new. I'm surprised not because Madison has a brother but, for someone as public as her, because I've never heard of him. To think about such cruel people having families who love them makes me wonder what changed that made them like they are now.

I used to think cruel people had backstories, but lately, I've been wondering if that is truly the case. Maybe one day, something dark and vengeful just sprouted where there only used to be kindness. Did there need to be a catalyst?

Terrence muses, thoughtfully, "Wonder how long homework will be an issue after he tells Brittany."

"I bet she'll drive him to the party herself."

"I bet he'll run her over with his motorcycle before that happens."

"If he hasn't done it already," Reece laughs wickedly.

Whoa. I nearly stop short at the threat, and how aloof Terrence and Reece seem about saying it. By everyone except Reece, Derek, Madison and Terrence, I could understand this being said. She tortures and humiliates people on the daily.

But these are supposed to be her best friends, a group so tight-knit they don't socialise with anyone else. If even the rest of the Monarchy hates her— she must be so alone.

Terrence asks, "What do you think she's got over Derek?"

Got over him? Like, something to blackmail him with?

"No clue. I tried to talk to him about it and he clammed up," Reece replies. "Wouldn't say a thing." They both are silent for a minute, and the only sounds are their shuffling footsteps. After a beat of tense listening, I realise their footsteps are quieting. They're not walking this way.

I focus more intently on the voices as they fade away. Reece vows, "After high school, I never have to talk to her again."

"Careful, Fido," Terrence jokes. "Besides, Britt's not evil. She's just... mistrustful."

"Yeah, but for no reason. When has she ever not gotten her way?" Reece doesn't receive a reply to his question, which I take to mean that Brittany has always gotten her way. Nothing I've seen this year has pointed to the contrary. I mean, she's won a new car, gotten shining grades and experienced high success rates in her sports seasons. Everything is peachy in her life.

But Reece says the opposite, groaning loud enough for me to hear it clearly, "Everything is just so messed up. She's so messed up."

Terrence's reply is much quieter, so faint I'm not sure I hear him correctly. "So are we."

My heartbeat only slows once I get to AP Calculus and slide into my seat, shooting Mr. Weston an apologetic smile. Derek is here — shockingly earlier than me, for once — completely absorbed in his textbook. A sentence from Reece and Terrence's conversation bubbles to the fore; Derek wants to ditch an afterparty to do math homework? That's not very rebellious of him.

But clearly, everything I thought I knew about the Monarchy is dead wrong.

When I zone back in, I realise Benjamin has been staring with a concerned expression. I give him a light-hearted smile until he turns back around, before leafing through my workbook to a fresh, blank page.

I need to find the others. Then we need to talk.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"—Reece and Terrence together—" I tell the crew over lunch. We've huddled our trays together so that we can talk without being overheard. " —they were talking, and it got heated. They both hate being a part of the Monarchy."

"What?" Leah gasps.

"Why don't they stop bullying then?" asks Benjamin, looking so confused, he almost looks angry. Perhaps he's both.

"They said something about Brittany having something over all of them. Some information, or power that controls all of them."

"So... they're just like the rest of us, then," Drew says.

His words set off a string of dominos in my head, and the actual meaning slowly sinks in. Just like the rest of us. Trapped. Controlled. Powerless. My throat narrows, and suddenly, breathing isn't as easy a task as it was a few minutes ago. My chest feels unbearably tight, like an explosion restrained in a space too small for its boundaries. That freaky halfway point between pain and discomfort.

The thought Brittany having everyone in the palm of her hand— it's just frightening.

"And... they sort of hate Brittany," I breathe. "I think. This was as they were walking away."

"Huh?" Drew asks.

"Someone mentioned something about Derek running her over with his motorcycle," I quote what I heard. "Again, I didn't exactly get the whole context. It was a really confusing conversation."

"Wait, wait, wait. If Brittany has something over all of them, shouldn't we find out what it is?" Benjamin picked up on the one thing we all missed. He's right. If we find out whatever it was that Brittany is using to control them and keep them with her, we could end this.

Leah sighs, "Yeah, but that's going to take a whole lot of work. Like, stalking and having conversations with them. Why would they ever stoop to talking with a bunch of Geeks?"

Inside, I cringe at the timing. Terrence just pleaded with me four days ago about talking and being more friendly, but I shot him down. Pretty concretely, if I do say so myself. Leah is correct in that all our chances at finding out anything more personal about the Monarchy are zero.

I hate to dismiss the prospect of Terrence as a way in, but there's nothing any of us can do. If I accepted Terrence's offer to be his friend, I would feel so wrong. This revelation doesn't change his cruel, selfish behaviour this year — and all the rest.

"Whatever she has over them, it will be big. Really personal and important to them. None of them are going to give it up willingly, and none of us are close enough to try." I remind them, "The Revolution is business as usual."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

After the five of us part ways after lunch, me heading to Home Ec., a hand grips my forearm and wrenches me around.

The combination of the sudden movement, the tense conversation I had over lunch and piercing dark eyes makes my breath catch in surprise. I tell myself not to jolt in front of Brittany, lest she find out just how much she startled me. In a low voice that brokers no misunderstanding, she demands, "Olsen, take down those Facebook posts. Now."

I exhale slowly, taking time to calm myself. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought Brittany found out that I eavesdropped on Reece and Terrence's conversation and am now onto her big secret, but apparently that's not the motive for her approaching me. "Hm, I'd rather not."

"You attention-seeking bitch. You think some short-lived trend is going to suddenly make you relevant?" Her hatred for me is completely evident, and I take great pleasure in knowing how easily I can mess with her.

Feigning innocence, with every intention to taunt her, I pout, "Me?"

"Yes, you! The person who's trying to slander my name. The person who's disturbing the social order. The person who's ruining the reputation I spent four years building when she really has no clue about the truth."

She's come close enough for me to see the flawlessly symmetrical wings of her navy blue eyeliner, and how it brings out the warm tones of her irises. And, face-to-face, Brittany has never looked more like the perfect villain. Because she's remorseless. Utterly convinced of her actions.

"Do you hear yourself? This is not order, it's a total monopoly over your schoolmates," I tell her. "No-one wants this, and you are the only one deluded enough to think otherwise."

"Yeah, Olsen, I know you're on some self-righteous path to save each and every person in the school, but you're wrong," Brittany says menacingly. "No-one needs rescuing. My friends—"

It's rude to cut her off, but I do so, without caring in the slightest. "What friends?" As if slapped, she visibly flinches at this.

I will never forget what I heard this morning. And I don't need to reveal the entirety of what I heard, but Brittany's scheme has gone on long enough. One day, I will find a way to bridge the gap between Terrence and the rest of the Monarchy. Till then, the best I can do is fight Brittany every step of the way.

What I'm about to say might be harsh, but if she hasn't learnt this by now, then I have to make her understand. "Maybe there was a time when they were your friends. Maybe there was a time when the Monarchy wasn't the only thing that connected you. But, you ruined that a long while ago."

Her glare hasn't softened a bit, rather it hardened and completely shattered. It's the only way to describe how broken, but furious, Brittany looks.

When I imagined a confrontation between Brittany and myself, as I'm bound to do, it's always full of yelling and threats. This— this is so different, I'm actually unsettled by it. My tone is not blatantly condescending or mean, because I honestly am just trying to do her a favour right now.

"I don't get why you couldn't have been happy with the friends you had. Some people never even get that much out of life." I'm surprised she's not hostile towards me either, but there's desperate, unhinged anger in her eyes that makes it seem she's hanging on my every word. Because she has nothing else to depend on.

I don't know if what I'm saying is accurate, but something in my gut just tells me to take the risk. To say the words no-one has ever said to her. Not even because no-one tried, or was brave enough to, but because no-one knew they were necessary. "You had four amazingly devoted friends and you pushed them away and used them. For what?"

"I— it—" Brittany is just as surprised as I am to hear herself stuttering. She takes a deep, trembling breath, and when she speaks again, eyes glistening determinedly, her voice is composed and crystal-clear. "You clearly don't understand how I operate, Olsen. The Monarchy is more necessary than you think. And you can't just come here and disrupt the peace, thinking that it's the best for everyone."

"The Monarchy's not necessary. And if it is, was it worth driving away the best friends you'll ever find?"

Brittany doesn't speak for the longest time, and every second of this bloated silence is filled with tension and calculations. "It has to be worth it. You can't ruin this for me."

Then I'm not sure what I'm looking at, because Brittany's bright eyes close, and a second later, she's crying. Not sobbing, not even whimpering. She cries the way a soldier cries. Silent and motionless, save for the tears sliding down her cheeks.

I wonder what it would be like to reach for her, hug her, and comfort her.

Of course, I'm clearly not going to blur the lines between enemy and friend when I wouldn't do the same for Terrence, let alone Brittany. I brush the thought quickly away. I don't even acknowledge the breakdown she's having. Brittany doesn't acknowledge her breakdown either — I don't think she allows herself to be weak, ever — instead, choosing to let her tears fall where they may, jaw tensed staunchly.

And she can act as indestructible as she pleases, but for me, this is only further proof of what I realised this morning, listening to Reece and Terrence: somewhere past everyone's complicated personality, must be a soul as vulnerable and haunted as the rest of us.

I'm not sure if that discovery is good or bad.