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The scream resonates throughout the dining area, a scene too gruesome for some to witness. I remain seated, knowing well that intervention would only worsen matters. My thoughts scatter, teetering on the edge of reason, as I watch May approach Arianna.
One wrong move. If she so much as grazes May, she'll won't even have the chance to complain to her daddy dearest because I will twist her neck.
"Return to your dining seat, Arianna," May commands, her gaze sweeping over the crowd with a disdainful air. "I'm overlooking this incident, solely due to the lack of evidence against you." She's aware no one would dare testify. And conveniently, the cameras must not have captured the footage either. That's the power of the Windsors. You can ruin someone and continue your day as if nothing happened.
A smirk curls Arianna's lips, her light grey eyes darkening with intent. "Oh! I wouldn't dare defy the Council President, would I?" She turns on her heel to leave.
Her underlying message is clear: You keep the seat; I'll keep the rule.
Few Hours Ago
The weight of the stolen cufflink presses against my thigh, a constant reminder of yesterday's theft. Elijah must have noticed its absence by now. With one hand in my pocket, gripping the cufflink, I stride towards the South Building when suddenly, soft hands blindfold me. A familiar fragrance envelops me, igniting an intense desire that grows with every passing millisecond. Before she can utter 'Knock Knock,' I whirl around, catching her off guard. My arms snake around her waist, and without a second thought or a glimpse of her face, our lips crash together in a fervent kiss. I kiss her as if there's no tomorrow, no today-nothing but her.
When we finally break apart, she grins and teases, "Knock Knock."
"Who's there?" I gasp out, trying to catch my breath, desperately attempting to resist the urge to kiss her again, leaving small pecks in between each word.
"Brauche," she murmurs, sending shivers down my spine as our lips meet once more with a passion that is palpable. She moans softly, her voice a seductive melody in my mouth, and whispers, "Brauche dich." (Need You)
I had dedicated myself to learning German just for May, and in this moment, it feels like every effort was worth it. "Ich liebe dich," I confess after our lips part, expressing the depth of my feelings for her.
(I love you)
In the Classroom
May has officially returned to school and assumed her role as the new Council President. I've always believed in her worthiness of the title. After all, she is May. My May. The one who stands out in a sea of puppets.
Yet, when I observe her interacting with Arianna, she seems out of place amidst the artificial glitz of gold and diamonds. Ever since May joined the 'A' section, she's been ensnared into Arianna's circle of friends. To Arianna, however, she is just another minion. And I've seen what happens to indomitable spirits like May when they're caught in Arianna's web. They end up like Wren Watson.
Broken, discarded, left to decay and vanish.
The immediate concern isn't May, however, who is strong enough to handle a fight if something went wrong, but Elijah. The day that followed, since the morning, was a cat-and-mouse game between me and Elijah. I observed, waited, and bided my time, while Elijah seemed increasingly aware of my presence.
It was during one of these silent observations that I notice a change in Elijah's demeanor since yesterday. The amusement is gone, replaced by a scowl. He is worried about something. His eyes suddenly make contact with mine, but I averte them. Then Elijah's hand goes to his pocket, and realization seem to dawn on his face. The cufflink.
He is suspicious it can have something to do with me.
It is time.
I approach Elijah after class, the cufflink secure in my palm. "I think this belongs to you," I say, my voice low as I press the metal into Elijah's hand.
Elijah's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and something I can't quite decipher. "Where did you...?"
"I found it," I lie smoothly. "In the hallway. It must have fallen out of your wallet that day."
For a long moment, Elijah simply stares at the cufflink, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he looks up at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he says, and this time, there is a warmth in his voice that I haven't expected.
I return to the classroom, opting out of billiards in the break room with Aiden and the others. The room is sparsely populated, with a cluster of girls, a few boys dozing off, and Arianna with her entourage.
As I am about to settle into my seat, Ms. Knockoff's voice pierce the air, "W will eventually reveal her true self. And when he does, she won't stand so proud."
She is likely referring to Arianna, her strange obsession with her concerning. I shake my head and angle my view towards Arianna. Her clique is silent, while May watch her with evident worry. Something is going to happen, and I am sure of it.
In the Dining Hall
Half an Hour later
"Pull out all her nails," Arianna coldly commands the girls standing around Sloane, the knockoff. The chilly silence hangs heavy in the air, suffocating Sloane as she stands frozen, realizing the gravity of the situation she's unknowingly stepped into.
It could have been just another ordinary day for Sloane, if only she had learned to keep her thoughts to herself. Despite her occasional cluelessness and penchant for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, Sloane had managed to carve a unique place for herself among the 3rd Tier. She was the unlikely ally from the Top 25 ranks, the one who showed a glimmer of care for their well-being amidst the cutthroat hierarchy. She gave them the opportunity to hang out in the upper lounging areas and dine in our dining area. But her only mistake was to open her mouth in front of Arianna.
When lunch began, everything appeared normal. People collected their meals and returned to their seats. But as Sloane made her way back, Arianna intercepted her.
"Sloane, that's your name, isn't it?" Arianna had inquired, arms crossed, appraising Sloane from head to toe.
Sloane had replied with a nod.
"Okay then. Get on your knees, Sloane," she had commanded.
Sloane, petrified, had complied with just a chilling stare from Arianna, one that could turn a desert to ice.
Arianna's current command, however, is unthinkable. Sloane's renown for her piano skills is widespread, and she's slated to perform at an international talent show next week. Today was supposed to be her final day before taking leave for the competition. But to forcibly remove her fingernails just before her performance is monstrous, a violation of humanity. It would destroy her career, nullifying all her efforts to secure a place in the competition.
Sloane's friends exchange glances but remain rooted. Arianna surveys them with a bored expression, a smile devoid of humor creeping across her face.
"Do it, or I'll ensure you suffer more than the usual third-tier students," Arianna declares, her voice steady as if she hasn't just pronounced a cruel fate. The girls, stricken with terror, scramble hastily to restrain Sloane's limbs, one muffling her cries with a handkerchief. Two begin the barbaric task of removing Sloane's nails, one after another. The scene is too horrific for me to bear. I avert my eyes, the lunch inside my stomach threatening to come out, while Arianna watches the ordeal unfold with a smirk.
When the screams and torture seem to have ceased, another agonizing cry fills the dining hall. Arianna has poured scalding soup over Sloane's exposed fingers. I see some girls fleeing towards the restroom, others retching on the spot.
No witnesses. Nothing has happened.
Afternoon
After School
I'm in Aiden's changing room, attempting to soothe my troubled thoughts. Arianna is perilous, devoid of humanity, and savage. I must reconsider my strategy to befriend her. I could simply ask my father to withdraw. It's not as if he couldn't secure the construction deal without my involvement.
And it's becoming increasingly difficult for me. No leads. No suspects. Even Elijah, whom I suspected might be 'W,' continued his meal undisturbed amid the chaos. This lessens the likelihood of his connection to 'W.'
"What's on your mind these days?" Aiden inquires, settling beside me.
"Nothing," I reply, leaning back on the bench and staring at the ceiling.
"That's not true. You're here in my changing room, sweltering without the air conditioner," he observes. He sets down his energy drink and rummages for a fresh towel. He hesitates upon finding a black towel, glancing between it and me before continuing his search. I snatch the towel and dab at my sweat-drenched face.
"Your favorite?" I tease, nudging him with my elbow.
I can't contain it any longer.
"I might have discovered who 'W' is," I confess, eyes fixed on the ceiling, then falling to Aiden's.
Aiden's eyes widen in disbelief. "W? How?" he stammers, beads of sweat forming on his brow.
I lean in closer, as if divulging state secrets. "I took his wallet," I admit.
"Whose?"
"Elijah's."
"What?"
"Yes. But I'm not certain-"
As I'm about to return the towel to Aiden, I spot something that sends a jolt through me. There, on the edge of the towel, is the unmistakable 'W'.
My gaze flits between Aiden and the incriminating towel, and I can't help but utter under my breath.
"The fuck is happening?"