Clique Bait - Ann Valett Page 0,33

ego can’t handle it.”

I pursed my lips. I always imagined Level One only cared about titles and money and appearances, not about throwing pebbles across a pond.

Stage Five

Intelligence

Twelve

Monica,

You said so much about William Bishop last year. I mean, you wouldn’t shut up about Level One, but I remember what you said about him the most. The others blurred together into superhuman beings, beautiful and bad. But you always made him sound like the nice guy. The hero who drove you home from parties, who stopped Francis and Zach from getting in fights with people from Richmond Prep when they were drunk.

You know, I believed you until that night.

Love, Chloe

FALSE EYELASHES WERE never my thing.

I’d been battling with them for at least ten minutes when my mother walked through the door, tittering dramatically as she came to my aid.

“Now why would my daughter be putting on false eyelashes at eight p.m. on a Saturday night? Another party?”

I couldn’t roll my eyes with her thumb strategically moving my eyelid in place. Instead, I let out a little sigh, to let her know that I totally didn’t need her prying. “Yes, a party.”

“Two parties in two weekends. What a social butterfly you’re becoming,” she said with a smile.

“What can I say, it’s senior year,” I said with sarcasm.

“Are you still missing Mon?” Mom asked. “You know, if you’re not coping well we can go and talk to someone. I was on the phone with Melanie Pennington the other night—”

“I’m fine, Mom,” I insisted. Though my tone was rude, I really was appreciative of her concern. I just didn’t want to talk about Monica. Or her mom.

“Good, honey,” she said. She fanned my face for a few seconds. “There. All done. Now, what are you wearing?”

I cast a glance to the black lace dress on my bed, and she stepped over to ogle it while I started framing my lips with a red liner.

“Is Mayor Bishop’s son picking you up?” she asked knowingly.

I groaned. Gossip spread through the parents of Arlington Prep almost as fast as it did through its students.

“No, we’re all riding in a limo.” Apparently it was Maddy’s dad’s private limousine. She’d called me an hour ago to announce she’d be swinging by my place.

“Well, I’ll leave you be. But be home at a reasonable hour,” she said, raising her overgroomed eyebrows in my direction and leaving the room.

Because I lived the closest to the party, I was the last to be picked up, squished into the back seat of a limo designed for six, our legs pressed against one another and glasses of champagne dispersed as we settled in for the journey. There were whoops of joy and animated laughter. The group was lightly tipsy, with just enough alcohol to warm them up for the night ahead.

I churned over my game plan for the party. I needed to eavesdrop, especially as the night went on. I needed to know who spent one-on-one time with who, who people were getting in bed with, and where everyone would return to sleep for the night. I’d infiltrated the group, and now it was time for the next stage. Getting intelligence.

I was deep in thought, unaware how much my body language was conveying until William’s hand landed on my knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. The touch was light—and dangerously careful—but enough to remind me that I needed to put my mask back on. I gave him a thankful smile. I was wasting valuable time.

“Hold still,” Zach said over the beat of party music playing through the limo, holding a champagne flute above Maddy’s lips. Her hair was smoothed back out of her face, and her cheekbones were contoured so sharply they could be weaponized. The car took a turn and the bubbly liquid spilled onto her chest.

“Zach!” she said between laughter.

“Sophie, your turn.”

“Hey,” Lola said, interrupting their games. Her hand rested over Francis’s knee, and while it seemed like an affectionate gesture, under careful scrutiny it might have been a possessive one, like she was protecting him from Maddy beside her. “If any of you see that Stephanie girl, you know what to do, right?”

“We haven’t forgotten, Delores,” Francis said flirtatiously as he poked her ribs. She brushed him off.

“Nobody is going to mess with you once we remind them what happens,” Maddy reassured. “We’ll make sure of it, babe.”

“What about you, Will? Are you in on this?” Francis asked, his eyes sparkling beneath the limo’s disco ball.

“In on what?” He’d been