and it’s weird to have it analyzed.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he said with a slow sigh. He straightened. “I just can’t believe you’d date a Level One after what they did last year, after how upset you were after everything. . . . But good for you for having an open mind. Will’s a good guy.”
“The Level system is something stupid Monica and I came up with. It’s not real,” I said.
“Sorry, it’s always been hard to keep up with you two,” he said. His face turned somber as he gave me an apologetic smile. “Anyway, I’ll see you around, Chloe.”
He gave a slow wave and stepped back toward his desk just as our professor walked through the door. I can’t focus on what he thinks of me, I thought. He’ll understand when I make things right.
When lunch period came, I felt my palms grow sweaty at the thought of sitting with Level One.
I was hesitant when I crossed the threshold of the cafeteria, my hands clenched around my lunch tray. As usual, I had on a full face of makeup, but it didn’t bring the sense of security I’d hoped for. I felt exposed.
I slowly navigated my way to their table. Around it were swarms of Level Twos, all with a nice view of whatever drama was going down at the Level One table at any given time.
Please let William be here already.
The hairs on my arms rose when I heard a scream from behind me.
I spun on the heels of my pumps to see the source of the commotion. The cafeteria was loud but not loud enough to drown out the sound of despair that had erupted from a nearby junior.
Her hair was a faded version of Monica’s orangey-red color, and she stood almost six feet tall. Her face was contorted in terror at the sight in front of her, her soda splashed all over the skirt of Lola Davenport herself.
“I’m so s-sorry, Lola.”
Sophie stepped forward from her position beside Lola, her scowl fixed on her delicate features. “Did you seriously just do that?”
“I’m sorry!” she repeated, her horror-struck gaze moving from the stain on Lola’s dress-code-violating skirt to Sophie’s electric eyes.
“How am I supposed to spend the rest of the day in a soaking skirt?” Lola hissed. The cafeteria had quieted, and her voice now carried easily to where I stood frozen between tables.
“Sorry isn’t going to fix this, honey,” Sophie said mockingly, taking another step toward the junior. She may have been tall, but the way her knees trembled made her seem small. “Give her your skirt.”
“Wh-what?”
“Your skirt,” Sophie said. Her lips pulled into a condescending smirk. “Give it to her.”
“Oh, of course,” the redhead stammered. “We could go and swap in the bathrooms—it’s no big deal.”
Sophie’s amusement grew, her hand lifting to her hip. “I don’t think she can wait.”
Sophie and Lola exchanged a look before Sophie spoke again. “Give her your skirt. Now.”
There was a dramatically long pause as the entire school held their breath.
“Um . . . here?” the girl asked.
“What do you think I mean? I’d hurry up if I were you. You don’t want to be on our bad side for too long.”
The girl’s hands trembled as they moved to the waistband of her skirt. I wasn’t surprised that she was cooperating. Level One’s wishes were law around here, and Sophie was right. It could get much worse than a little public stripping.
She popped off the buttons and then stepped out of the plaid skirt, her face flaming red. Sophie held her hands out expectantly and she handed it over, standing there in only her underwear. The few teachers who were there to supervise lunch notably turned away from the commotion. Even they were at the mercy of Level One and their influential families.
“Nice granny panties,” Sophie commented. “Next time don’t wear polka dots, though. They stand out.”
I heard a few giggles from my peers, and I didn’t miss the sparkle of tears developing in the girl’s eyes.
“Someone will drop off Lola’s skirt to you later,” Sophie continued. “Until then . . . I guess you just have to cover up.”
A girl stepped out to join the redhead, grabbing her hand and whispering rapidly before taking off her blazer and handing it to her.
Sophie and Lola let out one last chuckle before moving through the parted crowd and toward the restrooms. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.
I hated them.
I was about to dart to my