"Say, Louise, isn't that, um…negligee a bit…" Rory tried to think of the word.
"Revealing?" Paris supplied.
"That's the point," said Louise, adjusting her cleavage as she stood in front of the mirror. "Who would have thought that nerds could be so cute?"
"Anyone in particular?" Madeleine asked.
"Just the entire western coast contingency. They sure do make them cute over there. Very…Brad Pitt."
"Ew!" Madeleine squealed.
"Not Spy Game Brad, Oceans 11 Brad," Louise clarified.
"Oh! Okay I'm with you now," said Madeleine, nodding happily. "Redfield Prep is looking mighty fine this year."
"Redfield Prep?" Paris spat. "Urgh, I hate that school!"
"You only hate them because they beat us at the Nationals last year," said Louise.
"They didn't deserve to win," Paris argued.
"National what?" Rory asked.
"Trivia comp." Paris grabbed Rory by the arm and started to plead. "You HAVE to beat them Rory. Now, they're not in our pool so we won't meet them til the final, but when you do-"
"IF we make it to the final," Madeleine interrupted.
"We WILL make it to the final, Madeleine. And not just for trivia but for EVERYTHING. Understand?" Paris started pacing the small room that the four girls shared.
"Paris, calm down," Rory said. "You're going to have an aneurysm."
Paris stopped pacing and looked at Rory.
"You're not studying," she noted in her deathly calm tone.
"Yes I am," Rory said, grabbing the nearest book. "See?"
"Louise's little black book hardly qualifies," Paris commented.
Meanwhile, in Tristan's room.
"Marc, I'm signing you up for trivia along with Bruce and John," Tristan said, writing their names down.
"Why not you? Why me?" Marcus argued.
"Because I'm up for debate and YOU'RE the only one who ever reads a newspaper."
"Only the sports section…"
Tristan sighed heavily and collapsed on his bed.
"Dude, relax. I was kidding," said Marcus, putting down his dumbbells. "No problem, bud! Don't forget who won the prestigious state trivia comp."
"That was eight years ago. I don't think they'll confine the questions to holiday traditions and accompanying foods."
"You think? But seriously bro, you know how Bruce reigns in remembering all things that have been listed. The periodic table, the American presidents, state capitals…"
"The Mac Donald's menu…" Tristan supplied.
"Yes, that too. And John is a whiz with maths and science. I'm cool with sports and languages-"
"Whoa, wait a minute! What languages?" Tristan laughed.
"I know plenty of stuff. Fettuccine, tortellini-"
"Other than foods?"
"Sophia Loren, Al Pacino-"
"And movie stars."
"Escargots-"
"And we're back to foods again."
"I'm just messing with you. At my old school I was first in both Latin and French. Oh, and I'm really good with history and the arts."
"The arts?"
"Don't doubt me. Picasso was a fool."
"The capital of California is?" Tristan asked.
"Los Angeles."
Tristan cringed.
"No, wait! Hollywood."
Tristan threw him the A volume of the encyclopaedia set.
"At least have read that by tomorrow," Tristan pleaded. "At least then you'll know the capital of Austria."
"Sydney?"
"Austria, not Australia. And Sydney's the capital of New South Wales."
"What's New South Wales?"