Tuesday – 9:01 AM – Room 104 (Algebra, aka Hell)
Adriana Bogdan did not fear death, blood, or betrayal.
But pop quizzes?
Unforgivable.
"Okay class," Ms. Rickard said with a smile that could burn in purgatory. "Put away your books. Just a quick check-in quiz on last night's assignment."
Adriana blinked. "What assignment?"
Vincent—two seats over, half-asleep and doodling what looked like a ninja duck—slowly lifted his head. "We had homework?"
The entire row behind them groaned in sync. Mina fake-coughed, "Dictatorship," under her breath while Zara visibly began planning a prison escape using only her eyeliner and a mechanical pencil.
Adriana scribbled her name and then proceeded to write "See me after class, I dare you" in the answer box of question one.
Vincent, meanwhile, just drew a cartoon of Ms. Rickard fighting a bear made of quadratic equations.
-
Hallway Aftermath.
"Okay," Mina said, adjusting her bag like a runway model carrying emotional baggage. "That was an ambush."
"No," Rafi chimed in, slinging his hoodie over one shoulder, "that was a hate crime."
"You got three answers right," Zara pointed out.
"I guessed C on everything. That's strategy."
Adriana rolled her eyes. "I swear if the real war doesn't kill us, high school math will."
Vincent nudged her elbow. "Maybe we just fake our own deaths. Like, stage a locker explosion. Say it was chemistry-related."
Mina gasped. "That's actually genius. You blow up the Bunsen burners, I'll record the aftermath and cry for the camera. We'll be TikTok martyrs."
"You people are unhinged," Zara muttered.
-
Guidance Office
The group had officially been summoned to the Guidance Counselor's office.
All five of them. Together.
This was either about "academic focus" or someone ratted on the smoothie-heel incident and added special effects.
Mrs. Carmichael—forty-something, painfully optimistic, and always wearing something with sunflowers—offered them all Capri-Suns and said, "You're leaders in this school. But I sense… tension."
Rafi raised his hand. "Can I go back to class?"
"No," she said sweetly, "because you're the tension."
He grinned. "Finally. Recognition."
Mrs. Carmichael pulled out a giant laminated feelings wheel.
Zara mumbled, "Oh god, it's happening," and sank deeper into the chair.
"Let's talk about healthy outlets for your stress," the counselor continued. "Maybe yoga? Candle-making? Guided rage-screaming?"
"Can we scream in the library?" Mina asked. "That place has vibes."
Adriana stood. "Thank you for the offer, but we channel our rage the old-fashioned way. Gossip and revenge."
Vincent gave a thumbs up. "We're good."
-
Cafeteria Conspiracy.
Someone had sabotaged the group chat.
Their private five-person chat—nicknamed Chaos Unit 101—now had six members.
Adriana stared at the screen, ice in her veins.
"Who the hell is 'SilverEyes_47'?"
Mina gasped. "Did we just get hacked?"
"Wait—maybe it's Alex?" Vincent suggested.
"No," Adriana said slowly. "He'd use a dumber name. Like 'ShadowViperX' or something."
Rafi leaned in, fingers flying. "I'm tracing the login. It came from inside the school."
"Of course it did," Zara muttered. "Because this is a horror movie and we're in Act Two."
Then, mid-conspiracy… it happened.
Tristan walked past. And smiled. At Adriana.
Not a smirk. Not a flirty eyebrow thing. A real, actual, human smile.
Adriana blinked. "Why did he just—?"
"Don't look at him!" Mina shrieked. "You'll trigger the prophecy!"
"I thought he was avoiding me?" Adriana whispered.
Vincent stiffened.
Zara sipped her juice ominously. "Something's off. Too many smiles. Too many rumors dying too fast."
Then the new message dropped:
"You all look so calm for people with targets on their backs."
Everyone froze.
"That wasn't funny," Vincent said.
"It wasn't a joke," Adriana muttered. "This mole is watching us. In real time."
-
Boys' Bathroom (Do Not Question It).
"So we're meeting in the boys' bathroom now?" Mina asked, perched on the windowsill.
"It's the only place not bugged," Vincent explained. "And Zara said the library had 'creepy audio distortion.'"
Zara nodded. "Someone's rerouting Wi-Fi traffic. I saw ghost pings in the security subnet."
"Okay, nerd," Rafi said, "but like… what does that mean in English?"
"It means someone's running digital surveillance on the entire school."
They all went quiet.
Adriana exhaled. "This is worse than we thought."
"I'm gonna throw up," Mina muttered. "But like… cutely."
-
Hallway Meltdown.
Then came the accidental heart attack moment.
Adriana was mid-walk to English Lit when someone grabbed her wrist from behind.
She spun—ready to launch someone into orbit—only to see Tristan, looking nervous.
"Hey," he said, cheeks flushed. "Can we talk?"
"Now?"
"In private."
Vincent—conveniently exiting a classroom at that exact moment—froze.
Tristan gave him a nod. "Bro."
Vincent nodded back. "Other bro."
Adriana's eye twitched. "What is this? A testosterone showdown?"
Tristan took a breath. "It's about the fundraiser gala."
Adriana blinked. "You mean the 'Fake Rich Parents Want Photos for the Alumni Page' Gala?"
"Yeah. That one. My mom… she wants us to go. As a pair."
"Excuse me?"
Vincent choked on nothing.
Tristan looked panicked. "She already told the coordinator. I didn't— I didn't know she'd submit our names. I can fix it, I swear."
Adriana crossed her arms. "Don't. I'll go."
Tristan looked surprised. "You will?"
"Yeah," she said calmly. "But I'm not going for you. I'm going to make sure whoever's watching us sees exactly who they're dealing with."
She brushed past them both, leaving stunned silence in her wake.
Vincent stared at Tristan. "If she murders you… I just want you to know I tried to stop this."
Tristan gulped.
Later That Day – Secret Chat Rebooted
Chaos Unit 101 was restored—minus the mole.
And the new plan? Set a trap. At the gala.
Only one problem.
Someone had already RSVP'd to the event under the name SilverEyes_47.
And the plus-one?
"Pending infiltration protocol. Smile pretty."