**Officially published as Clique Bait with HarperTeen!**
Payment is usually a part of a basic transaction. You give and then you take. But, at Arlington Preparatory, people take at their leisure. They take their entertainment in the form of humiliat...
a very special dedication to wimbug (who is forbidden from reading further at risk of spoilers) for having a HUGE influence on my writing development and being one of my fav people on the site. go read her work. or bug her to read yours.
okay, so before you read, I want you to be completely transparent with me this chapter. comment EVERYTHING. and if you can't put it into words then vote. bonus points if you do both.
love you guys. so much. enjoy (im lowkey crying because this chapter is finally coming out) - ann 💕
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Monica Pennington sauntered delicately through the crowd, her eyes searching for only one person amidst the swaying, drunken bodies screaming loudly to the music.
Lola Davenport.
She was easy to spot, her caramel hair catching the light of a strobe as it flashed over her snide expression. Beside her, Sophie glowered at the red haired girl approaching them.
"Bathroom. Ten minutes," Monica said into Lola's ear. It was much too loud for conversation in the club. Lola's lips lifted in a snarl, which could have easily been misinterpreted as a smirk to those around them.
There were two possible points in time that turned Lola's opinion of Monica from adorable to dangerous. Either when Monica fucked her boyfriend, or when Monica started calling the shots. At the moment, the latter was making Lola's blood boil. Monica could tell.
Mon tossed her flaming hair over her shoulder as she walked back into the throng of people. She loved the ambiance, the atmosphere of freedom and lust oozing from the party-goers around her. But, even so, her stomach was turning. She was much too sober. It was happening too often lately; that feeling of craving something more to dull her mind.
As she waited at the bar for another vodka soda, a voice in her thoughts was gnawing at her brain, creeping over her shoulders with a weight that could almost suffocate her. Chloe hadn't spoken to her in just over a week.
"Interesting," a voice spoke into her ear before she had even managed to capture the attention of the barman. A hand snaked over her arm and down to her wrist, where a diamond bracelet was clipped.
"Just take it, Max," Monica hissed, discretely unclipping it and pushing it into his palm. Max was trying to put away money, particularly the kind that didn't show on balance sheets, even though she knew he had a six-figure bank account. She eyed him warily.
His fingertips played with coils of her hair as he leaned in intimidatingly close. "Francis isn't happy with you."
"You can tell him that I don't give a flying fuck," she snapped. "Where's Maddy?"
