Kathryn:

When a sexy girl acts like none of the guys around her have the slightest chance of getting into her pants, it increases her market value. The first guy to break her virgin shield becomes her conquerer, and other males look at him with awe. When a sexy boy fucks every girl in sight but refuses to settle down with any of them, the effect is much the same. I would've much rather fucked every guy in sight and become a kingmaker for it than have had to play Ms. Innocent all the time, but I wasn't given that option, was I? You'll pay for that, Sebastian. You have no fucking idea how much you'll pay for that.

The blonde happens to be popular right now. But it's because of who she's with, not who she is. Too plain, too disgustingly hyper-Christian to be actually interesting to anyone but a career seducer, now that she's got Sebastian, all the girls want to know what her secret is. That's about as far as it goes. She hasn't spent years learning everyone else's secrets, building up an air-tight network of blackmail that would make her respected and feared on her own merits. In fact, the hick's probably naïve enough to think everyone likes her because she's so friendly and nice.

Our Dorothy will find out soon enough the difference between Kansas and the real world. I've already told Marcel I have a headache tonight, a statement he quite charmingly took at face value, French girls not being in the habit of using headaches as an excuse for no sex. I have three phone calls to make—two with caller ID blocked.

(You'll never know, but it's because you're alive that I have the energy to make these calls. I feel myself practically humming with it, happier than I've been in months.)

For the first call, I've created a girl, a sickeningly familiar character type. In my mind I call her Jane. Plain Jane, Insane Jane, a lonely emo girl who got pumped and dumped by Sebastian this summer and is now hell-bent on revenge. Oh, and she's one of Blaine's customers and has seen a few things. She calls up Greg McConnell and screams at him. Her grip on sanity was never too strong to begin with, and now every word out of her mouth comes out as either a sob or a scream. Her voice is about an octave lower than mine.

"How could he do this? Dump me for that bible bitch—"

"Whoa, slow down sweetheart. Why call me about all this?"

Sniffles. "You know Annette, right?"

"Yeah, I know her. She's from my home town."

"So tell her about him! Tell her what an asshole he is! I've seen them, you know, since he dumped me for her, I've seen him checking out other girl's butts when he thinks she's not looking, I've seen him flirting with them." Sobs: "Just like he used to flirt with me." Screams: "He's such a piece of shit, even she doesn't deserve him!"

On the other line, I can literally hear Greg scratching his head. Thinking about how to protect Annette from this psycho, protect Annette from her player boyfriend, protect his own ass from being outed if he says anything bad to her about Sebastian. Thinking is not his strong suit.

"I want you to give me Trevor's number too! He's her boyfriend according to Seventeen, I bet he doesn't even know what a total hypocrite slut she is! You'd better do it, too, or I'll tell everybody all about you and Blaine."

He lets out a resigned sigh, like being blackmailed is routine for him, which it probably is. He bought Jane's story wholesale, as I knew he would when I created her, in accordance with my cardinal rule of never ever letting the actions I take get traced back to me. I'm not the best voice actress in the world by any means, but he never noticed a similarity, and not just because he's dumb as a box of rocks. The vocal inflections sounded new to him because no one's ever witnessed Kathryn Merteuil acting hysterical.

For Trevor, I sound professional as can be. I'm a reporter from Seventeen, working on an anonymous tip that the "Why I Plan To Wait" girl apparently couldn't wait that long. I'm considering doing a follow-up article, hence the call. He's polite, doesn't say enough to clue Seventeen in on whether he was actually a believer in this chastity bullshit or, more likely, a gay boy using her as cover, but it doesn't matter. The girl's just lost a lot of bible-thumping friends back home.

The last call is the hardest. Having to make it the next evening because of the time-zone difference doesn't help. I do a bump just beforehand, but it doesn't prevent me from picturing the phone's ring echoing through the house, praying Seb is at school like he should be at this hour. Oh good, Mei-Le's answered the phone. I can get this part of the plan started early. I tell her what brand of camera to buy, and exactly where in my stepbrother's room she should place it. Is Mother home? Yes? Better and better. I don't care how many guests she has over for lunch, just tell her it's her daughter on the line, and tell her in front of everybody. Then she'll be delighted to speak to me.

We talk.

I didn't seriously think Mother would refuse to fly me home for Christmas break, but I had to make sure. I reassure her, through my words and tone, that my return will be an asset to her if anything, a comeback story to be proud of. I say I can't wait to see the whole family again—no specific names mentioned. I know I've got her when her voice rises loud enough for the guests to hear. We get off the phone on the best of terms.

I know Mei-Le will do what I've asked of her quietly and efficiently, without me having to ask twice, just as she always does. I've befriended the woman, visited her several times in Queens where she lives with her family, six in a one-bedroom apartment. Had dinner with them, gave them presents. Seduced her teenage son, a freshman in high school and, by the way, an excellent lay. This is what they don't understand, those who oppose me. I am victorious and always will be because I do the legwork, go the extra mile, every time.

She knows that if I choose to, I can have not just her but her whole family deported.

I call up Marcel and tell him I'm feeling much, much better. He senses the shift in me and rushes to my door. He never enjoys fucking me more than when I'm in a mood like this one.

A/N: hummelchen: yeah I know, I'm a tease...