The Geek Revolution ✓

41 | metaphor

DEREK SHOULD GO TO HELL.

Or somewhere deeper and more torturous, where he'll never see the light of day. As I walk to Home Ec. — where my last period and last persuasion of the day awaits — I can't help but think that Drew is utterly crazy. His middle school friends don't exist anymore. In the case of Derek, who has lifeless eyes and certainly no soul, I can't imagine a nice guy ever existed in his body.

Part of me acknowledges the game we played, the battle we fought. I sat down in front of him, kept him from going to Madison's aid, and dragged one of his worst secrets to the light of day: that he can't walk away from someone who controls him. One might say he did the same in return — he just did it better. Precisely, mercilessly and so effectively that I'm shivering still, as I walk to my next class.

Madison and Leah never returned to Music. I'll have to hear tomorrow from her, and the rest of them, what happened with their conversations.

Throughout the start of Home Ec. I couldn't bring myself to approach Terrence. But I've run out of excuses, having gotten to the stage of sewing the pieces of my shirt together. Terrence is sitting at one of the sewing machines already, his hands deftly threading material under the needle with rote precision. He's a quick study, I note.

When he hears my footsteps, Terrence looks up at me. A mischievous smirk breaks out on his face when I take the machine next to him, instead of the vacant one at the far end of the workbench. "Well, well, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

I used to think he was irritatingly flamboyant and cheesy. But after my harrowing encounter with Derek, whose thoughts are locked behind a reinforced vault of apathy, Terrence feels like a ray of sunshine.

I hesitate to speak, worried that Terrence might've found out about our strange behaviour through one of his friends. Drew spoke to Reece this morning, and Delaney shares an Economics class with Brittany. If they all did what we planned yesterday, all the other four Monarchs have been confronted. Will Terrence have been warned already?

"How has your day been?" I wonder curiously, watching his face carefully.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I, um, needed a way to ease into the conversation, don't you think?"

"And here I thought we'd have moved past bland conversation starters by now. You could have said, I want you, Terrence, right here, right now—" His husky, exaggerated voice lightens considerably, "—and I would have considered that a better opening line."

My jaw drops, neck and ears flushing pink. I can't even respond to that. Terrence stares wickedly at me, and I narrow my eyes. "Of course you would. Egomaniac."

He shrugs. "I'm just being honest."

It seems like he hasn't been warned. Thank God. We all noticed as of late that the Monarchy hasn't been hanging out together outside of class — neither in the cafeteria nor the courtyard before and after school — so perhaps their disconnect is still working in our favour. "Hm. Are you always honest with me?"

"As much as I can be."

"Then can I ask what you think about the Monarchy?"

Terrence seems lost for words, and his feeble attempt at deflection comes out in strings of nervous stutters. "Uh, w-well. I guess so. Why do you need to know?" I realise I spoke to Reece and Derek about being blackmailed before I spoke to Terrence. We've never had such a serious conversation before.

"I'm trying to figure out your intentions."

"My intentions?"

Terrence is smart in his own crafty, resourceful way, but I'm better at psychological warfare — clearly not better than Derek fucking Hale, but that's a problem to be remedied later. Inching closer to him, I lean my hands on the counter lightly. He watches warily, eyes scanning all over my face, gradually realising that I came for more than a catchup on each other's lives.