Dear Monica,
I don't know how you ever found Lola Davenport beautiful.
I'm sitting here now, in our spot by the fire exit where I can see over the cafeteria. It feels like an eternity since you've joined me here... I guess it has been. You hated this spot, it was too hidden from the glitz and glamour of the social scene.
But it makes the perfect place to spy.
Stars don't become planets unless they die. You know that better than anyone, right?
Chlo
Lola Davenport isn't beautiful. Her swirly caramel hair and plumped lips dipped in coral are all a part of her elaborate costume. Her beautifully deceiving mask. If our school were a solar system, Lola would be the sun, and the rest of level one would be made up of the planets that orbit her, some closer than others. The rest are the stars that watch on from afar.
The radiant sun sat in the middle of the level one table, between Sophie and Li, her best friends forever. In her manicured hand dangled a tub of yogurt, and she laughed daintily at something Sophie, the blonde bombshell of Arlington Prep, had whispered in her ear. She was perfectly primped, a picture perfect model of grace and charisma. That was the most frustrating thing about Lola. She was so likable.
I sat above them, on the fire escape on the mezzanine overlooking the cafeteria. It was the place I was least likely to generate attention, a small table Monica and I once shared together.
Opposite Lola was Francis Greene, the only one insane enough to have committed himself to Lola for a grand total of three years and eight months. But it wasn't difficult to tell how much they hated each other. Their conversations were through gritted teeth and plastic smiles. The way they showed attention was possessive, the looks they gave each other haunting.
But, the fact that their fathers graced the front of the financial newspapers with one of modern day's best business partnerships made it a little hard for them to break up. That's what I'd put together, anyway.
"Chloe Whittaker. That is not you."
I failed to stop myself from jumping as a foreign body positioned themselves next to me at the table.
"Jack Thomas. I can assure you that it is very much me," I said, my shoulders relaxing slightly and the corner of my lips raising in a small smile at the familiar face.
Jack's dark eyes zigzagged as he assessed my appearance. "Makeup? Since when."
I let my mouth curl further into a smile. "Do you like it?"
He snorted. "It makes you look like a baby playing dress up."
"Thanks," I responded sarcastically, letting a scowl settle over my face. I was reminded of the flash back I'd had that morning, of Monica coating my lips in crimson.
Jack was sweet, kind and unbearably awkward. Somehow, he'd managed to remain acquainted with me throughout high school, despite how much I'd preferred to be isolated with Monica.
"So what are you doing up here? Spying on level one?"
"Don't say that out loud," I grumbled. The level scheme belonged to Monica and I. "I'm just enjoying the quiet."
"Right," he said, his voice trailing off a little. "It must be really hard coming back without her here."
I didn't respond, avoiding his gaze and looking back towards the cafeteria instead.
The cafeteria of Arlington Prep was enormous, with a high ceiling and large tables spread neatly around the hall. At the moment, it was filled with conversation, chatter about adventurous summers and laughter as groups of friends reunited. Somehow, though, the hundreds of students were in some way orientated towards the middle table, even if it was only subtle.
The ten person table was fully occupied with the presence of Arlington's elite, each member sitting on my list. Well, almost fully occupied. The tenth seat, which had housed their past experiments and relationships, was empty today. At one point in time, Monica had been the one sitting there on the end of the table.
My eyes darted to William Bishop, the tall boy with the razor sharp jaw and dark brown hair. At the moment, William was the most important member of the group.
Because William Bishop was my in.
Richard Whittaker had showered me in countless gifts throughout my lifetime, but none were as important as the one I'd stolen from his laptop this time two weeks ago. My father's job provided me with the evidence I needed to prove that Charles Bishop was a fraud. My leverage.
"Hey, Jack?" I asked. Jack's head turned to me accordingly. "Is there anything on this weekend?"
The most valuable thing about Jack was that he was a pure level two, one of those who were obsessed with level one.
"Li's having a party on Friday since everyone's finally back in town," Jack said lazily, not an inch of suspicion in his tone.
"Oh, really?" I raised a brow nonchalantly.
"Are you considering coming?" Jack asked with mock-surprise. "Mon would be so impressed!"
"Maybe," was all I said in response. Monica had always begged me to come along to parties with her. I only did once.
But I knew I'd definitely be at Li's. I needed to confront William Bishop on his own, and everyone knew it wasn't difficult to get William alone. Especially when he was drunk at parties.
"You totally have to. It's senior year, you have to start being a part of these things, living it up, you know?"
"You're right," I said quietly. But I was watching carefully as William's eyes flitted up to meet mine from my faraway watching place, barely for a fraction of a second. I doubted he'd even registered it.
William was second to last on my list. In fact, I'd debated for a while whether to add him at all. Even though he was an outrageous flirt, and had probably used his abilities a large fraction of our cohort, he was probably the only one that was kind to Monica when she'd strived for a place in their ranks.
I guess it was just unfortunate enough for him that he was the only one with a secret I was willing to sacrifice keeping for security measures. Nobody else would be safe with the dirt I had on them.
I'd never tried blackmail before, but there was a first time for everything.
I tried to visualize my plan, all the details I'd strung together during my summer in Hawaii, drawn up on a tattered sketch pad while I'd laid lazily in the sand.
Each day for the rest of the first week back, I ate by the fire escape, and each day Jack joined me. I watched carefully, assessing the group for any alarm bells that could cause tremors in my mission. I tried to remain invisible, but I also tried to stand out more than last year, just to gain a hint of their attention.
I wore lipstick, and curled my brown hair around my face using a tutorial from Cosmopolitan Magazine. Every time I looked in the mirror before I left, I felt my armor growing more and more advanced, saw my features blend more and more into someone like Lola or Sophie.
My plaid skirt was cropped dangerously up my thigh, and I'd swapped my ratty ballet flats for a pair of Jimmy Choo Mary Janes worn above knee high socks, a mirror of the popular girls. I spent each evening at the gym, like I'd done each day all summer so I could squeeze into a size four. If I wanted to take down level one, I was going to have to blend in with them. I needed to know my enemies like my closest friends.
And my first step was making my grand entrance into their lives, in the form of William Bishop.