"You're a curious one, Jones."
I literally choked on air. "What now?"
Chase was staring at me with that stupid smirk that made my brain short-circuit. His dark eyes had this intensity that felt like he was reading my diary without permission.
"You heard me," he said, voice all low and gravelly.
My heart was doing gymnastics in my chest, but I tried to play it cool. "Curious how? Like... weird curious? Or serial killer curious? Because honestly, at this school, both are valid concerns."
He actually laughed. Like, a real laugh that did things to my stomach. "Your unpredictability. Most people tiptoe around me like I'm gonna bite. You? You seem to enjoy poking the bear."
I blinked. "Is that... good?"
His eyes got this wicked gleam. "Depends who you ask."
"I'm asking you."
He leaned closer, and suddenly the hallway felt like it was a thousand degrees. "It's refreshing. Like lightning before a storm. Dangerous... but impossible to ignore."
Holy. Shit.
Before I could form actual words, a voice cut through the moment like nails on a chalkboard.
"CHASE!"
I turned to see Lea clicking down the hallway in heels that probably cost more than my tuition. Platinum blonde hair bouncing, white blouse tucked into a skirt so short it was basically a belt. She looked like she'd stepped out of a magazine called "Rich Girls Who Ruin Everything."
"I've been looking everywhere for you," she purred, sliding up to Chase like a cat marking territory. Her manicured hand landed on his shoulder with practiced ease.
Then her eyes landed on me. "Oh. You're talking to Number 15."
The way she said it made my blood boil. Like I was a thing, not a person.
"It's Camille," I said, voice sweet as poison. "You know, like a name? People usually have those."
Her smile didn't budge, but her eyes went ice cold. "Right. Camille. I'm Lea, but you probably already knew that." She turned back to Chase, completely dismissing me. "Want to grab lunch? They're serving that pasta you love."
*That pasta you love.* Gag me.
"I'm good," Chase said, and I caught the way his jaw tensed when she touched him.
"Come on," Lea practically whined. "You never eat anymore. I'm worried about you."
I snorted. "How sweet. Nothing says 'I care' like stalking someone's eating habits."
Lea's head snapped toward me so fast I was surprised she didn't get whiplash. "Excuse me?"
"Nothing," I said innocently. "Just admiring your... dedication."
Chase looked like he was trying not to smile. "I said I'm good, Lea."
Her perfect smile faltered for exactly one second before snapping back into place. "Fine. Your loss." She turned to me, eyes sparkling with fake sweetness. "Actually, Camille, since you're new and all, there's this party tonight. Very exclusive. Top 20 only."
*Top 20 only.* Because God forbid the peasants crash their precious party.
Chase went rigid beside me. "Lea, no."
"What?" I asked, suddenly very interested. "Scared I can't handle it?"
His eyes flashed. "It's not about that—"
"It'll be fun!" Lea interrupted, clearly delighted that she'd struck a nerve. "Music, dancing, no teachers breathing down our necks. You should totally come. Bring your roommate too."
"Absolutely not," Chase said, voice sharp.
I raised an eyebrow. "Why not? I love parties. Especially exclusive ones."
Lea clapped her hands together. "Perfect! I'll text you the address. It's after lights out, so be sneaky." She winked like we were suddenly best friends instead of mortal enemies.
"Lea," Chase warned, but she was already dragging him away.
"See you tonight, Camille!" she called over her shoulder.
Chase looked back once, his expression unreadable. Then they disappeared around the corner.
I stood there for a moment, processing what just happened.
Then I pulled out my phone and started planning.
---
## 💄 GETTING READY 💄
"You look like you're either going to a funeral or about to commit murder," Penn said from her bed, where she was sprawled with a bag of chips and her phone.
I turned from the mirror, smoothing down my black dress. It was simple but deadly—short, fitted, with thin straps that showed just enough skin to be dangerous.
"Why can't it be both?" I asked.
Penn sat up, suddenly interested. "Okay, now you have my attention. What's going on?"
I sighed. "I got invited to a party."
"A party." She said it like I'd announced I was joining the circus.
"An underground party. Off campus. Very hush-hush."
"That sounds illegal."
"It's not *illegal* illegal."
"Camille." Penn gave me her mom look. "What aren't you telling me?"
I hesitated. "Ever heard of the Top 20?"
Her face went blank. "The chain ranking thing?"
"No, different Top 20. Rich kids, power players, people who think rules don't apply to them."
Penn's eyes widened. "And you got invited? By who?"
"Lea."
She nearly choked on a chip. "LEA? Queen Bitch Supreme Lea? The girl who looks at you like you're gum on her designer shoe?"
"That's the one."
"Why would she invite you?"
I shrugged. "Maybe she wants to watch me crash and burn. Maybe she's bored. Maybe she's planning to sacrifice me to whatever demon gave her that personality."
Penn was quiet for a long moment. Then: "I'm coming with you."
"What?"
"You heard me. No way in hell am I letting you walk into Mean Girls: College Edition alone." She jumped up and started digging through her closet. "Please tell me you have something I can wear that won't get me laughed out of wherever this thing is."
I opened my dresser and pulled out a red slip dress, tags still attached. "I was saving this for something reckless."
Penn held it up, eyes wide. "This is gorgeous. And expensive. And very, very reckless."
"So are we doing this?"
She looked at me, then at the dress, then back at me. A slow smile spread across her face.
"Hell yes we're doing this. Someone needs to document your inevitable meltdown."
"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."
"Always, babe. Now help me figure out how to walk in heels without breaking my neck."