You know that moment in a movie where the hero's back is against the wall, the villain's laughter echoes through the halls, and all hope seems lost? Then—bam!—an unexpected ally swoops in, flipping the script.
Yeah.
That was exactly what happened to me this morning.
Except there were no cinematic violins or slow-motion camera zooms. Just glitter, smoke, and the smell of half-burnt toast from the cafeteria wafting in through the hallway.
Let's rewind a bit.
After the latest "Bianca strikes again" drama—her planting that fake apology letter in my locker only to post the "evidence" of me supposedly begging her for forgiveness—my reputation had taken another hit. Not a hard one—I mean, please, who actually believes I'd ever grovel to Bianca?—but still annoying enough that I considered sneaking into her dorm and swapping her shampoo with pink hair dye.
But I didn't.
I was tired. Tired of playing defense. Tired of being underestimated. Tired of people thinking I was just some troubled scholarship kid with a sharp tongue and nothing more. I needed a win.
And then... she walked in.
"Miss me, Wren?"
I spun around so fast I nearly dropped the contraband box of stink bombs I was smuggling back to my room. Standing there, in ripped jeans, combat boots, and an oversized hoodie that read I Bite Back, was the one and only chaos queen I hadn't seen in weeks.
"Lena?!"
She grinned, dropping her duffel bag and spreading her arms wide like some punk rock guardian angel.
"In the flesh. What, no hug for your favorite roommate?"
I didn't hesitate. I bolted across the room and hugged her so hard I might've cracked a rib or two. She smelled like peppermint gum and mischief.
"Where the hell have you been?" I demanded as we broke apart.
"Detention camp. Not even kidding. They call it 'Camp Reflection,' but it's basically just a slightly prettier version of juvie. I got caught hacking into Sister Margaret's email. For fun."
"That's so you," I muttered, laughing. "God, I missed your madness."
"Well, lucky for you, I'm back, baby. And it looks like you need me more than ever."
I gave her the breakdown—the glitter explosion prank that backfired, Bianca's latest schemes, the way Zara had grown distant lately, and how Jace had reappeared with more shadows in his eyes than ever before.
She whistled. "Damn, you've been busy. But don't worry, your chaos cavalry has arrived. Let's burn some bridges, yeah?"
Lena was many things—brilliant, impulsive, absolutely fearless—but above all, she was loyal. Once you had her in your corner, she'd stand with you through every storm... usually while throwing firecrackers into the wind.
We spent the next few hours locked in our room, plotting like Bond villains. The wall above my desk became a crime board—sticky notes, yarn, photos, possible weak spots in Bianca's Gaggle of Minions.
"You sure you want to go all in?" Lena asked as she drew a devil-horned sketch of Bianca.
"More than ever," I said. "I'm done reacting. Let's go nuclear."
We called the plan: Operation Pink Meltdown.
First, we snuck into the admin's email system (courtesy of Lena's not-so-retired hacking skills) and registered Bianca for the next 'Respecting Boundaries' workshop, scheduled for Saturday night. A slot usually reserved for kids caught being too hands-on at school dances.
Then, we booby-trapped Bianca's backup uniform closet. Glitter bomb v2.0, now featuring edible confetti, a fog machine, and a hidden speaker that would blast the "Barbie Girl" chorus at full volume.
But the pièce de résistance?
The hallway mural.
Every semester, the seniors get a wall in the east wing to paint whatever they want—a tradition steeped in legacy and bragging rights. Bianca had been bragging for weeks that she was painting a tribute to St. Agatha's values—complete with her face in the center like some holy icon.
We had... other ideas.
With a few "borrowed" keycards and Lena's gift for mimicry (she fooled three security guards into thinking she was a new maintenance intern named "Tommy"), we sneaked in at 2:17 a.m. and transformed the mural into something unforgettable.
When morning came, the entire school gathered to see Bianca's masterpiece.
Only, instead of her smiling face in stained-glass glory, there stood a massive, hyper-realistic rendering of her mid-sneeze, with the words: "Queen of Petty. Ruler of Nothing."
The school went feral.
Phones were out. Videos everywhere. Laughter echoing like a rock concert.
Bianca arrived last, her entourage trailing behind her in matching pink cardigans. The moment she saw it, her mouth dropped open. No words. Just a breathy, stunned silence. Then a scream so shrill it could've shattered every window in the hall.
"I'LL KILL HER!" she screeched, and I swear I saw two freshmen dive behind the water fountain in fear.
Lena and I watched from around the corner, biting our knuckles to keep from laughing too loud.
"Masterpiece," she whispered.
"I call it: 'Revenge, with a Touch of Acrylic,'" I replied.
But not everything was sunshine and sabotage.
Later that day, I found Jace leaning against the railing near the dorm courtyard, his hood up and expression unreadable. I hadn't spoken to him since he got back. Not properly.
So I walked over, heart pounding, and nudged his arm.
"Hi Jace. Where the hell have you been?"
He looked at me slowly, like I was a ghost. Then a faint smirk tugged at his lips
I leaned on the railing beside him. "Well... welcome back. You missed glitter bombs, mural scandals, and Bianca finally cracking like a dropped iPhone."
"You seem... different," he said after a pause.
"Different how?"
"Sharper. Meaner. But stronger, too."
I didn't know what to say to that. So I looked away.
Jace wasn't just some boy I used to prank with. He knew the parts of me I rarely showed. The quiet bits. The scared ones. But Phoenix was... something else. Dangerous, unpredictable, magnetic in a way that made my stomach do flips.
Was it a love triangle if I didn't even know how I felt about either of them?
Later that night, as I lay in bed, Lena snoring softly in the bunk below me, I found myself staring at the ceiling, replaying the day in my head.
The prank war was escalating.
Zara had been acting distant again, and something in her eyes told me she was fighting a battle I couldn't see. Bianca wasn't going to take her public embarrassment lying down.
And then there was Phoenix, who kept showing up at the weirdest times, saying cryptic things like, "Careful, Aria. The wolves aren't the only ones with fangs."
But with Lena back, my chaos was complete again.
This war? It was just getting started.
And St. Agatha's?
Well, it wasn't ready for what we were about to unleash.