07. so what's the plan

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟕
" 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 "
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            "You are insane!" Mack exclaims. So taken aback by what I just suggested, he disregards the Ursids and turns to me instead. "Going against the A-Class? Nico, are you crazy?"

"I have never been more sane in my life," I say, smiling because it's the first time in days that I feel like there is something I can do besides mope.

"How are you even going to do it? The A-Class has been unrivaled for so long. Even before we stepped into St. Madeleine, it's been established that the A-Class is the cream of the crop. They don't call it the star section for nothing!"

"A-ha!" I beam. "And you said so yourself. Even the best and brightest of stars can fall."

Mack's expression falls as he tilts his head to the side. "That's not what I meant."

"But it's true," I say. "I was A-Class and I fell. Now I can't get Anya and those other backstabbing pricks kicked off the star section, but I know a way to bring the whole star section down."

Mack raises his brow as if mildly engrossed. "Go on."

"Best Class award," I state. Ever since the beginning of time, the A-Class has been awarded with this distinction every single term. How can other classes contend? A-Class students are handpicked from the moment of the entrance exams, the thirty applicants with the highest scores automatically get placed there. They become St. Madeleine's best bet for Ivy league schools and interscholastic competitions right off the bat. So, of course, the A-Class always wins in a competition of academic performance. But I know for a fact that the current A-Class' performance is a sham.

A sham devised by me.

"Mack, I carried the whole class on my back for the entire term," I say. No point in being humble. I know I'm right, and Mack knows it too. "If I can do that with the A-Class, what's stopping me from doing it with the D-Class?"

Mack's forehead wrinkles as his eyebrows draw up. "You're not planning on becoming the D-Class' cheat sheet, are you?"

Sitting up and manic, I answer with a "Yes!"

"No," he groans.

"Why not?"

"Because you're looking for trouble, Nic," he says. "The moment Anya catches wind of whatever you're planning, she will snitch on you. And this time you won't just be transferred to D-Class. You'll be expelled for good."

I tilt my head to the side in challenge. "Who's gonna tell her?"

Mack copies the head tilt. Neither of us is backing off. "You can count on it not being me, but you know Anya. She's got eyes and ears everywhere."

"I'm not scared of her." I cross my arms. Why would I be scared of that rotten little bitch? She's smart but lazy. She was so dependent on my cheat sheets, she might as well have copied my name on her answer sheet. "And besides," my lips curl up, "I've got my own set of eyes and ears on her, too."

"Me?" Mack's hand sprawls over his chest. When I nod, he lets out a dry laugh like I've just put on some clown makeup and honked my nose. "Don't drag me into this, Nico."

"Come on," I egg.

"No." He crosses his arms over his chest and scoots away from me.

"Malik," I call in singsong, and I hear him groan right away. He breaks easy. Marupok. Just a little pleading, some puppy dog eyes, a soulful pout, and he's in.

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