The Geek Revolution ✓

42 | flicker

NOT MUCH HAS BEEN ABLE to lift my spirits this past week, especially when all I can think about is the damned Monarchy.

At school, I coil up tighter than a ball of steel wool. Every time I glance at one of the Monarchy, I'll find them already staring intently at me. Leah's noticed, too, how they're circling like vultures. I've tried not to think about it too much, by keeping busy with editing the Chronicle and studying.

According to Benjamin's calculations, we'll have repaid the debt in less than three months. For a weekly newspaper, that's still a considerably long time to go without any accidents. By accidents, I mean interference from the Monarchy.

This is where Wyn has really stepped up, having joined Kyler with hiding the donations coming in. She's become an integral part of the operation, and hopefully, we can keep Brittany from getting her claws on more of the Chronicle's money.

The last time I checked on him, Kyler was beaming and kept busy with putting together the next edition. He was surrounded by familiar faces from the Photography Club, and Isaac, a freshman from the Book Club, was there, too. Leah's taken on his expertise to help her review books in her column.

But even this huge success isn't enough to dispel my paranoia.

Brittany and I never talk, but somehow I feel like I know her. I know that she's never let an act of defiance go unpunished and that the whole year has been a pattern of attacks. Us, them, us, them. I guess the most recent move was us taking back the newspaper, and she certainly won't let it slide easily. Maybe our stunt with the persuasions would have confused her — after all, what is there to gain from ostensibly picking a squabble with each of them? — enough that she temporarily forgets about the newspaper.

Mom has also noticed in the past two days how subdued I am, but I wave her concern away and pin the blame on AP courses. I feel cursed by the Monarchy, robbed of sleep and energy and joy but I recognise that it's of my own doing — because I have never been one to leave a problem unsolved, or a job unfinished.

I simply cannot let the events of the past few days go. Drew may have lost sight of the flickers of goodness inside his ex-friends, Derek and Reece, but I haven't. In fact, it's one of the only things I've thought about this week.

Unless I'm completely focused on studying or making dinner or talking with a friend, the memory of Reece leaning his head against his car seat, or of Derek's fingertip brushing my cheek for a split second rotate in my head without subsiding. Sometimes it's moments I've shared with Terrence. Sometimes it's Drew's face oscillating between a hopeful smile and a despondent frown.

Whoever it is torturing me, my train of thought always leads to the same question. Is there a flicker of goodness in the Monarchy that I can save? That Terrence or other members of the Monarchy could possibly be powerless, and desperate — the opposite of what I used to think of them — is a novel thought, scarily unfamiliar.

I don't think I could lead the Revolution the way I have been if I sympathise with them. I can't fight a war against people who aren't really my enemies. My conscience couldn't do it, but I have people depending on me. I dragged my four closest friends into so much stress and drama, I put them at risk of being targeted — physically or otherwise — all on the promise that the Revolution will be worth it. It has to be. I owe it to them, to my school, and to myself to see that this vile bullying doesn't happen anymore. Or graduate trying.

I'm so conflicted. There's no doubt that if Terrence and the others are being blackmailed, then they are victims, too. If Brittany has hurt them like she's hurt everyone else, then the Revolution should also aim to empower them. Despite the terrible things they've done. Despite the fact that they are still doing those things. I can't decide if I want to help Terrence or throw him in with his lot.