The Geek Revolution ✓

11 | unofficials

THE MOMENT LEAH AND I walk into Music Theory on Monday, we notice something severely wrong.

Occupying a whole table — the table which usually sits empty — is Derek and Madison. Leah notices after I do, halting in her step.

Madison sees us and sends us a smile, making no effort to cover the malice that propels it. Derek looks uninterested, as usual, with his body slumped down. He only moves when breathing, or tapping his finger on the table. There is nothing alive in his eyes, except for vast amounts of boredom and the occasional twinge of wistfulness.

But I must be seeing things. Leah and I sport identical glares walking past them, to the back of the room.

"Callum. What are they doing here?" Leah asks, hushing her voice.

Callum looks worriedly between Derek and Madison, unsure whom deserves more of his fear. Eventually, his reply comes carefully. "They asked for a class transfer, apparently. Wanted to swap electives." His voice is sardonic.

Leah nods, obviously understanding the situation better than I am.

"What's going on?" I ask.

Quentin pauses, letting his hands freeze while assembling his flute, to explain that Madison is famous on social media. She has a lot of sway with the way the media perceive Carsonville High School. Petitions, viral videos, fabricated scandals; she controls it all.

On top of that, Reece's parents are loaded. That's the reason he plays in every sports team the school has, regardless of the equipment, registration or travel costs. He's Carsonville's most valuable player in every sense of the word.

Brittany's father is a high-end lawyer, a member of the board of trustees and Dean of Admissions at an Ivy League college. Supposedly, it's why they can pull off half the things they have and escape flat-out expulsion.

Leah tells me that Brittany must have sent them here to monitor us. "Whenever her weird bloodhound senses think anything is up, she'll put her minions on watch duty to see if they actually pose a threat."

"She should. We're a huge threat."

"Maybe we should stop trying. It's not going to work with just five people," Leah suddenly says.

"Then we get more than five people." I gesture to the three musicians, who are setting up their instruments. "Can we trust them?"

Her speculation is visible. Leah eventually admits, "Yeah, I've known them a long time. But they probably won't want to join."

"Only one way to find out."

Subtly, I call the group to gather around me. Relaying what I said on Saturday makes the open faces of Ashley, Callum and Quentin twist into doubtful expressions. Then, as I explain the fight, their hope turns into aggressive frowns, directed at the two new additions to the class. My words are a lit match, tossed onto puddles of gasoline that are just waiting to be fired up.

Ashley joins immediately, with many violent looks in their direction. Callum and Quentin take a bit more convincing. The hesitation is clear in their body language, hunched shoulders and fidgeting hands, but they agree to help us with whatever we plan to do. Whatever I plan to do.

"Should we get back to band practise?" Callum mutters, "Gossip Girl over there is looking at us."

I tilt my head, coming eye to eye with Madison. The look she wears is a silent warning, whereas Derek's bored gaze lingering in our direction is a blunt statement. Her face could impale. The chatter grows behind me, but the words all blur into each other. The indiscernible noise is just a background feature to the threat of Madison and Derek being here.