FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME, I am reminded how dutiful and compassionate my friends are.
Even Delaney, who grumbled at having to exit her house when she was planning to binge TV shows the whole weekend before her Chem exam. Even Drew, whose sleep schedule has slid into nocturnalism without the need to come into school every day, with his mussed hair and dark under eyes.
I relay everything I heard at the Shack, the encounter spilling from me like a waterfall. "So, what do you think? Neither of them knew I was there. I think they were completely genuine."
A weighty, stunned silence has fallen on our table. I understand the range of emotions everyone must be feeling, as I went through the same cycle yesterday. Leah is about to talk, the gentlest of breaths being pulled in through her lips ready to expel as words, but is interrupted.
Delaney stands abruptly. Her sharp movement causes the legs of her chair to drag back on the wood of the library floor, screeching discordantly. "I need to call Suki."
Then, I remember who Suki is.
She was the girl who allegedly was targeted by the Monarchy in sophomore year. In the first month of being at Carsonville, Delaney told me they falsified medical records and planted abortion brochures in Suki's belongings to make her strictly pro-life parents think she was pregnant and aborted the child. Supposedly, Suki's fervent denial of ever being pregnant then made her parents believe she had mental health issues and relocate her to a school for special needs teenagers.
Is it possible she was pregnant after all?
Delaney wanders to a far, secluded corner of the library, waiting exasperatedly for her old friend to pick up. While the call takes place, I turn to my remaining friends. "This messes everything up. I'm so confused."
Benjamin's eyes soften sympathetically. "Let's just wait till Delaney gets off the phone with Suki. Until it's confirmed, we shouldn't jump to conclusions."
I nod numbly, trying to tether myself to his logical words in order to avoid floating off into the tumultuous havoc in my head. What would I do without him, without all of my friends? "Thank you for coming, guys. I know you were really wanting to study."
He nods. "Anytime."
A suspenseful silence falls on our unit, only dispelled when Delaney takes her seat again. Her stormy grey eyes are clouded over, an unreadable but ominous emotion thundering within. "Well?" Leah asks.
Delaney clears her throat, her lips pursed uncomfortably. "It's true. Suki, um, and Terrence have a daughter together."
"Fuck," Drew says what we are all thinking. "That's so weird."
On the receiving end of a questioning frown from Delaney, Drew elaborates. "Only because Suki was so quiet, bookish, you know? And Terrence is— well, um... Terrence? I didn't even know they were a thing. Unless it was a fling." Drew shudders, mumbling again, "So weird."
"I know. I know." A dejected sigh escapes Delaney. "I thought she was a good friend, as well. Before she left, we were in the same homeroom class. I thought she would have told me, or asked me for help at least. So, proves how much I really knew her."
"Did she explain why everyone thinks she was framed?" I wonder.
"Apparently, Brittany saved her daughter. She was alone and isolated when she found out, and she never opened up to Terrence the way he deserved. She was going to abort, until one day Brittany found out and surprisingly became part of her support network. It was because of her that Suki learned she was strong enough to do it." My eyebrows raise. Brittany being selfless?
"When she and Terrence told her parents, they were adamant she had to keep the child. They were heavily religious and anti-abortion. But they were convinced she had failed their family. The church. Suki was preparing to face a shit storm — ostracisation, bullying, ruined employment prospects, financial strain, a dwindling support network."
Grimly, I nod. As far removed from the entire situation as I am, I have been in Carsonville long enough to understand what Delaney is talking about.
While the town is not so small that everyone is growing up in each other's houses, it's small enough for news to travel like a hot flame on dry paper, and small enough for its core values to be traditionally conservative.
"Her parents decided to move to Washington. She said Terrence tried to help. He really did. But there was not enough support for her here in Carsonville, financial, emotional, educational. Plus, she didn't really have a choice since she was sixteen at the time. Suki told me she never heard about the false rumours about her."
Delaney continues, "But if she had to guess, Brittany probably spread them after she left to help her family save face. The Stansons were very close to the Yamatos because they went to the same church, they were both a part of the Japanese-American community. Sounds like a Brittany thing to do, she said. Brittany looked after me in ways I didn't know I needed."
I guess I can understand that. Madison told me the ways Brittany defended her against her own bullies, even if it meant becoming one herself. It sounded like Brittany turned into a vicious protector of vulnerable girls. Suki might just be one of them.
Drew's eyebrows pinch quizzically, like nothing of what Delaney said makes any sense. "What? So that whole drama about her was a scam? We all felt sorry for her, only to have the rumour be partially true?"
In an instant, Delaney's frazzled demeanour vanishes, replaced with a piercing stare towards Drew. "Well, can you blame her? We know better than anyone how vicious this town can be. And she was sixteen."
"Okay, okay," Drew exclaims. "I'm not judging her at all. Just... so weird." Clearly, he's having trouble wrapping his head around the whole Terrence-has-a-baby thing.
"Besides, it seems to have worked out exactly how she wanted. She got to start afresh and finish her last year of high school on her terms, supported by family and without a fixed schedule."
"Well, would you look at that," Leah marvels. "The Monarchy actually used their social influence for good."
"I know. But Suki said she couldn't be happier with how things panned out, so as her kind-of friend, I'm happy for her."
That's that, then. Suki is fine, Terrence is fine, everything should be fine.
But an annoying thought in the back of my head reminds me of the pressing issue at hand: how I wanted and attained each of the Monarchs' secrets, but am clueless as to whether I can, in good conscience, even use the information I found. When I started digging, I never expected to stumble on a minefield this large.
"What about Terrence? This must be what Brittany is exploiting. How can he ever leave her side with something like this weighing on him?"
With Derek, Reece and Madison, I was hopeful that Brittany's tight grip on them could be eventually released. Their secrets didn't seem insurmountable. But this is a person's daughter we're talking about — and if Terrence has stuck by such a villainous woman's side through this much, I don't think he'll ever leave. He'd probably do anything for his daughter.
"No idea. Here I was thinking about the least taxing way to flunk my exams," Drew's lips curl into a mocking smile, "—when a guy my age has a daughter."
A ripple of agreement circles the table. I have no job, I can't even drive — and Terrence is a father. Just thinking about the vast difference of where we are at in our lives gives me whiplash. Part of the reason this newfound secret shakes my bones is that it forces me to confront how close we are to the rest of our lives.
"Someone needs to talk to Terrence," Leah suggests. "See exactly what the nature of the deal between him and Brittany is." Suddenly, I find myself pinned under the suggestive gazes of my four friends.
"Why are you all looking at me?" I ask defensively.
"You are our default Terrence liaison," Benjamin reasons.
"Hey, I've approached Terrence on Revolution business so many times, he'll clam up as soon as he sees me. He probably associates me with trouble by now."
Truth be told, it's the other way around. I associate Terrence with trouble more so than any of the other Monarchs because of how dangerously unpredictable he is. He's been an ally a few times, but a sworn enemy most others. There are so many different sides to him — cheeky, charming, sombre, defiant — it's like Russian Roulette just approaching him to see which one I'll get. I'd rather not take this maddeningly confusing task on in the midst of exams.
"You are the closest to him of all of us. I don't know how you did it, but Terrence trusts you a fair amount," Leah notes with a knowing smile. "He'd probably be pining after you if it weren't for Brittany controlling him."
I can feel myself flush pink right up to my earlobes. "Now you're just bullshitting."
Leah winks cheekily, unperturbed by my scowl. "So, it's settled. Sophie will discuss with Terrence at the nearest convenience. Everyone in favour say aye."
"Aye," Benjamin, Delaney, Drew, and Leah chorus.
"Everyone opposed, say nay."
"Nay," I mumble despondently, knowing it won't amount to a speck of difference. My fate has already been sealed by those fiends I call friends.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Over the weekend, my previous inability to concentrate on studying disappears. I throw myself into revision as a high-diver throws themselves into a pool, complete with imaginary flips and a graceful dolphin dive into textbook after textbook.
For once, I'm not pestered by unwanted thoughts of the Monarchy. I think it's because — whereas before finding out about Terrence's daughter, the end of the Monarchy was a point on the horizon, fast approaching — now, the hope I fostered for victory has been snuffed out. The chances Terrence would depart from Brittany are marginal. After all, she shouldered public hatred for what she supposedly did to Suki to allow his child to be born. I don't know what motivated her to go to such lengths, but the fact remains, she did it.
And now Terrence is trapped in her debt.
That is the disappointing destination of every train of thought concerning the Monarchy. Now that almost all hope is gone, thinking about the Revolution or Monarchy just leaves a bitter sting in my mouth. As a result, it's been very easy to stay on task during exams. I guess Terrence's infinitesimal chances of ever getting out have been good for me, in a silver-lining kind of way.
But it's short-lived. Spread over a week, the time slips imperceptibly through my fingers until each successive exam — Ap Bio, AP Calc, Music Theory — can no longer be used as an excuse. In an attempt to put off my talk with Terrence as long as possible, I fill my days with work so it will look to my friends like I am busy.
I peruse the courses at Halston and start daydreaming majors. I still don't know what I'll study. Maybe political science, or psychology. Then I waste three afternoons helping the Prom committee with their preparations. Mostly, it entails Quentin and I running around town buying the balloons, banners, party poppers and plastic cups.
Then, when the committee fervently insists I had done enough — if anything, too much — to help, I invite Delaney and Leah to come dress shopping for said Prom. Only, the whole time I am bombarded by questions about Terrence. Needless to say, it isn't the best activity to get my mind off the Monarchy. On the plus side, we all leave with gorgeous ball dresses, each scored at a bargain.
Two weeks after that fateful day — the day of the English exam and the day I received news that threw my world off-kilter — I am left with no excuse for delaying my talk to Terrence.
Things are winding down at school. Teachers and students alike seem more antsy and are taking classes less seriously with summer break being a month away. The infectious spirit can't reach me however, sitting as deeply in nervous anticipation as I am.
Mrs. Fern is particularly kind to us during this period. The only task she set for us is to write a paragraph-long review of our performance this year. She's strangely, passionately into self-reflection. As such, after ten minutes of my Home Economics class, I've already cruised through the work. I excuse myself from Angela.
"Go get 'em," she winks at me, the corner of her lips quirking amusedly. A flicker of confusion appears, before I blush faintly. Admittedly, I have been plucking up the courage to go over to Terrence's table the whole lesson. But I don't think I was that obvious. Was I?
With sweaty palms, I walk the seemingly mountainous distance between our table and his. He's not alone. A boy, Zane, sits next to him, the two heartily conversing and laughing on occasion. When I approach, the dialogue fades away. Some unknown emotion flashes in Terrence's eyes, a mix of surprise, and... something warm.
I'm awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, not knowing how to ask Zane for the privacy the prospective conversation will surely need. Luckily, as if some merciful being is smiling on me, Zane seems to sense my anticipation. With a friendly smile, he says, "I'm going to hand my reflection up." Except he takes an awfully long time getting back, dawdling at every possible table along the way.
I slide into Zane's seat. The nerves that have plagued me haven't alleviated. In fact, with Terrence's eyes trained on me, I am less certain than ever. He watches me lazily, mirthfully, expectantly. Like he is a king, lazily stretched out on a throne, and I am a performer here to entertain.
My stomach twists. What I am going to say will certainly be less than entertaining. "So, I guess, you're wondering what I am doing here," I begin. He only raises an eyebrow, still annoyingly aloof. "I know this whole year has been hectic with the... tension between our social circles, but I wouldn't wish any real harm on you. Remember that for later, please."
Now sensing the severity in my tone, Terrence's pleasant demeanour darkens. His eyebrows furrow in concern, lips parting to speak, but I interrupt. I need to cut to the chase. If not now, I probably never will.
"I—" My voice catches. Suddenly, my head whirls in a dizzying sensation. Fuck. Just say it. "I know about Cassie."