Chapter 2

"I learned a long time ago that reality was much weirder than anyone's imagination."- Hunter S. Thompson

Briarwood-Octavian Preparatory School

Calloway Auditorium, Row 3

Monday, September 2nd

9:32 A.M.

"Do you know what time tryouts are?" Cameron Fisher, his blue/green eyes desperately searching his phone screen with the school's website pulled up.

"Five." Derrick Harrington answered immediately from next to him, his brown eyes trained on the group of men and women talking amongst themselves on stage. On the left was a dark-haired man with a grey patch by his left temple. Unlike the other professionally dressed educators, Coach Brookfield, was wearing black soccer shorts and an official black and burgundy Nike sponsored Briarwood shirt. It was the same training t-shirt jersey that had been given to Derrick as part of his Briarwood athletics swag.

He had been one of three freshmen the previous year to claim one of the coveted spots on the varsity soccer team. But after his elation of discovering he had made it, Coach had announced that he was no longer a goalie. Now, he was a striker. In that one season Coach B had helped him become one of the top scorers on the team.

"Shit, I don't know if I can make it," Cam muttered, his face still down.

Derrick rolled his eyes. One of the other three had been Cam, and as the best central midfielder on the team. He was partly why the Briarwood Tomahawks had made it to the finals. But, once Cam formed his band, Key Failure, with his brother soccer had taken a back seat in his friend's life.

"Dude, we have to be there." He reminded Cam about Coach's number one rule: punctuality. They were only allowed to miss three practices in a season, or else they were kicked off unless it was for family emergencies or extreme illness.

"I have band practice!" Cam's one green eye turned towards him. "We're playing at a party in North Salem on Friday!"

"At the McKenzies'?" Josh Hotz, the third underclassman that had made it onto varsity asked, leaning forward in his seat. Derrick knew that the only reason he was interested, was because Alicia was guaranteed to be there. Ever since she had dumped him he had been desperately chasing after her, and it was honestly starting to look pathetic.

"Yeah, they're paying us in cash this time instead of Venmo-ing Harris all of it."

Derrick's eyes returned to the stage, watching as Coach talked with the head coach of the girls' varsity soccer team. No doubt, they were discussing how they both planned on beating Crestmore Academy, BOP's biggest rival and the team that had stolen the championship away from them last year. His teeth clenched at the memory of watching as Crestmore celebrated on the rain-soaked field.

"We're invited, right?" Josh asked.

"Yeah, all the guys from last year's team are."

"What about me?" Chris Plovert, one of their friends that hadn't been lucky enough to make varsity, asked. Plovert had only made JV but hopped to prove himself at tryouts this year. He pouted at the thought of missing out on a good time. "I'll have major FOMO."

"Dude, don't worry," Cam rolled his two different colored eyes in annoyance. Plovert never missed a party, invited or not. "You're the party prince of Briarwood, of course, you're invited."

Thanks to Plovert's out of control St. Patrick's Day party, he had become a legend virtually overnight. He had advertised it as the party of the year, and Plovert had miraculously delivered what he promised. His dad's mansion had looked like a scene from Project X and it had been a night that no one was going to forget anytime soon.

"Don't remind me," Josh grumbled next to Derrick. Unlike the rest of his friends, Josh had had a terrible time at Plovert's party. From what he could remember, Alicia had not only dumped him but had been surrounded by other guys only minutes later. Derrick had retreated to Plovert's dad's office to hide from Dylan and ran into Josh drowning his sorrows in Mr. Plovert's rare Macallan scotch, reserved only for his most esteemed clients.

Derrick decided to change the subject, not only for Josh's sake but for Cam and the rest of the soccer team. "Dude, you need to show up tonight." He turned to Cam, starring down his blue and green eyes. "The team needs you if we're going to beat Crestmore."

The rest of the guys groaned.

"He's going into captain mode again…" Josh said to the others under his breath.

Derrick hadn't officially been the team's captain. That title had belonged to Liam Walker, now a senior. He hadn't even been the assistant captain because as a freshman he had been too young and needed to prove himself. But Derrick had pushed himself and the rest of the team not only for his own ambition of taking Liam's captain position, but to really establish himself as a leader to the rest of the guys and Coach B.

"Don't you guys want to win the championship this year?" Derrick snapped at them. They had been just as heartbroken and defeated as he had been. Shit, Plovert had cried.

"Yeah, but I also want a life." Plovert rolled his eyes and Josh agreed.

"And I can't just bail on the band." Cam's eyes squinted at him. "Harris can't practice any other days."

Cam's older brother had graduated from Briarwood in June, leaving for NYU to pursue a major in music business. But ever since Harris had moved into his NYC dorm, Cam had been lamenting over it. Not only because of their close brotherly bond but because it gave their band much less time to practice.

"The McKenzies usually also have someone DJing most of the time, you'll only be playing a set or two." Derrick reasoned. The McKenzie twins had only started hiring Key Failure to play at their parties because they had become so popular after playing at Plovert's St. Patrick's Day party.

Cam sighed, he knew Derrick wasn't going to give this one up. "Fine, I'll text him and ask if he and the guys can push it back."

Derrick settled back in his seat, and just in time. The last of the students had just trickled in, the doors were about to close as the faculty took their seats and Dean Sanders walked up to the podium. He tapped the microphone, checking the sound. Just when he opened his mouth, a set of doors burst open and everyone turned around to see five slender silhouettes in the doorframe.

"Holy shit," Plovert muttered as the group moved in sync down the aisle.

"Is that who I think it is?" Cam whispered to him, his different colored eyes watching just as intently as Derrick's. Only Cam's eyes weren't on his girlfriend, but the brunette girl on her left. A girl neither had seen in a long time.

Block.

BOP

Calloway Auditorium, Row 25

Monday, September 2nd

9:37 A.M.

Everything was just as her friends had described. Briarwood-Octavian Prep's campus was just as picturesque as the website had shown. The auditorium had just recently been renovated with generous donations from famous alumni and had been built not only for a modern facelift but for the best possible sound quality. Even as the PC took their saved seats, Massie couldn't help but admire how plush and cozy they were.

The man at the podium, looking up at them in disdain was also in desperate need of a facelift. "If you're quite finished ladies, we have an assembly to start." The man who she guessed to be Dean Sanders from the PC's description of a balding man with a nose two sizes too big said, his voice dripping annoyance.

Massie flashed her brightest smile as if giving him her permission to go on. She could still feel the entire room's eyes upon her and she was soaking it up, not caring if she possibly just got on the Dean's bad side on the first day.

"Now, I'm sure that you're all excited to be starting another year here at Briarwood-Octavian Prep…" Dean Sanders rambled on about what an exciting year it was going to be, and the PC quickly lost interest.

Alicia leaned across Massie's lap and whispered, "Thanks for saving our seats, Liv."

"No problem!" Olivia Ryan said cheerily from her spot next to Kristen on Massie's left.

Massie secretly rolled her eyes and whipped out her phone. She angrily pulled up the PC group text.

M: since when did duh-livia become a-list?

D: since never

A: she has her uses

It wasn't that surprising that Alicia had let in Olivia while Massie had been gone. Without her, there had been no one to remind Alicia that the only thing worse than a Valley Girl, was a wannabe Valley Girl. But, as her faithful beta had assured her, Duh-livia was not an official PC member, only someone they tolerated and occasionally invited along if she had helped them with something.

"Ehmagawd," Claire's elbow nudged Massie in the ribs. "Look!"

Massie looked down at Claire's phone screen, it was a text from Cam.

C: Is that Massie?

Then Claire's eyes looked up and Massie followed her gaze. Down in the front was Cam, surrounded by Derrington, Josh, and Plovert. They were all looking up at her as if they were watching a ghost. Massie bit her inner cheek to keep her from visibly smiling. Her plan was working. Everyone who knew her from OCD was shocked to see her, and the ones she had never seen before were sneaking peeks at her with mixtures of curiosity, awe, and jealousy.

"Now, I know no one wants to hear it, but students will no longer be able to order food on apps like Grubhub and Uber Eats." Dean Sanders droned on, only this time he was met with large opposition from the entire crowd, booing him as he tried to go on. Even Dylan zealously joined in.

"The approved eateries allowed to deliver on campus have been posted to the B-O-P website." More boos.

"Ew, this guy seems worse than Principal Burns." Massie watched as Sanders pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, mumbling something under his breath.

"Well since you all seem to be bored of me, I'll let one of your peers take over." Dean Sanders looked over his shoulder as if looking at someone behind the curtain and nodded like that was their cue. "Your elected senior class president and Director of Student Activities, Monica Sova."

Suddenly the room erupted and a tall girl with glossy long loose brown curls walked out from behind the large red curtain. Her mile-long legs quickly carried her over to Dead Sanders' place at the podium, giving Massie ample time to scan over her outfit. She was wearing a black-pink Versace lurex tweed crop top, a chunky knit tweed Chanel mini skirt, and a pair of black point-toe Louboutin pumps. A dizzying sense of outfit envy filled Massie and she felt the need to suddenly hurl.

The girl, Monica, smiled bashfully and waited for the audience to calm down, but Massie could see the corners of her perfect pouty lips. She was reveling in the spotlight.

"Thank you." She purred into the microphone, transfixing everyone in the room, including the PC. "On behalf of the student council, I'd like to welcome everyone back for another great year!"

" .She?" Massie grounded out with her teeth clenched, her eyes never leaving the brunette at the podium. But from the corner of her eyes, she could see her friends exchange worried looks. Never, not once since the Pretty Committee had entered BOP, had they mentioned anyone named Monica Sova.

"The Alpha…" Alicia whispered.