It's been two days since she infiltrated the Aca-Decathlon team. Two days. Already Chloe wanted to burn the club to the ground. Along with the club and its members, she wants to watch Lucifer Morningstar crispy-fried.

Ella Lopez, the ever patient friend, pats her hands sympathetically. "Don't burn the club down just yet," she pauses, rummaging through the files scattered over her desk. "I managed Gordon's grades for you. He failed a couple of subjects. He's not even above the 2.75 mark," she says, flips to the wanted page and thrusts the file to Chloe.

"He's that bad?" Chloe reads the file. Boy, Ella isn't exaggerating. She could see why Gordon's admission to the club seems impossible. Dinesh's score is exactly 2.99, yet every time he takes the grading exams, he scored higher than the average best, acquiring the golden number of 3.5—Gordon failed all the mock exams.

Ella returns her sight on the laptop, clacking the keyboard. "Yeah. How on earth did he manage to get into the club?"

"That's a good question."

"And I did a little digging into Philip Smoak. He's actually the son of a high profile chemist. His half-siblings won all sort of science-related competitions. Consistently first place."

Chloe looks up from Gordon's grades, staring at Ella. Vertigo High isn't a big school. A decent size school were everyone knows your name—or at least your face. Chloe's new, but she does her best to make sure she memorise her fellow students. "His siblings? How come I never heard of other Smoaks?"

Ella pulls out her phone, scrolling through Google images. She holds her phone, so Chloe could see Philip's half-siblings. Mostly dark-haired, with matching dark green blazers—a local newspaper article about their academic accomplishments.

"Firstly, they're not Smoaks. They took their father's name, Goodwin. Philip and the Goodwins shared a mother, Emily. They're way older than us. Like ten years older. And they don't go to school here. Prep school," Ella explains, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

"Isn't it curious that Philip's here instead of a prep school?" Chloe questions, her fingers tentatively drumming on her chin.

"Give me some time, I'll try to see what I can do on Philip's financial background."

"Whose financial background?" Dan asks, his voice's sudden appearance freezes them for a second.

Chloe's eyes immediately snaps to the door, sees Dan. Ella shuffles the papers and folders into one messy pile and tries to shove all of it into the drawer.

"I asked Ella to come up with a mock financial statements. For Home Econ," Chloe smoothly lies. Ella offers a rapid nod.

Dan narrows his eyes at them both. "Oh."

"So, the newbie?" Chloe prompts, distracting Dan. Allows Ella some precious seconds to successfully slam the drawer close.

"He's really popular with the cheerleaders. I mean, they're organising a mini fashion show for him," Dan replies, envy seeping out from his tone. But his lips quirk slightly upwards, amused.

Ella pipes up, "He got a bunch of girls giving him a fashion show?"

Dan shrugs, chuckling. "Something about wanting him to not miss a thing when it comes to high fashion and all things haute couture."

Chloe's phone buzzes on the table. The notification's header reads STUDY BUDDY alert. Chloe releases a long suffering sigh. "I got to go. The geniuses are beeping for more books."


Linda Martin can't decide whether Mazikeen Smith is avoiding therapy. Or secretly crying for help.

She comes, without a sound, into Linda's office. Sits on the couch. And stares at the walls, without batting her eyelids. Right on time. Never a second too early, or too late.

"Is there anything exciting today, Mazikeen?" Linda asks, as usual. Her clipboard lays on her lap. Her thumb clicking the pen once. Maybe today will be the day she chips away a bit of Mazikeen's armour.

Mazikeen turns to Linda, shakes her head. The rest of her are rigid. Like a soldier anticipating an attack.

[Or today's the day Linda will quit her 'guidance counsellor' job. And decide a career change. Write that fantasy novel she always wanted but lacked the will power to sit down and type the words.]

Linda tries again, "R-right. So, you want to talk?"

"No."

At least, she's verbally responding to Linda. Rather than having her body speaks for her.

"Do you want to do something while you're here?" Linda asks.

There's no hesitation in her reply, "Yes."

"And that would be," Linda drags the last syllable longer into a question.

One hand reaching into her sling bag, Mazikeen produces several books and her notepad. She gestures at her books; the answer's pretty clear.

It isn't much, but Linda thinks this little detail—that idleness is not one of Mazikeen's traits—is a piece to the puzzle that is Mazikeen Smith.

"Okay, I'm going to leave you and your homework alone," Linda replies, rising to her feet from the armchair. "I'll be here, if you want to talk," she adds.

Mazikeen doesn't avert her gaze from the books.

[Today, Linda Martin returns to her desk, catalogues a new piece of information on Mazikeen to her notepad. She'll stay here, providing guidance to Vertigo High's students—either those who need her or don't—and she'll return to work the next day. She's warming up to her cosy office anyway.]


"So, I got six books on the exciting times of that crazy Roman dude, more coffee, more chips and more of everything," Chloe announces into the room. Her view partially blocked by the large grocery bag, she shifts her face slightly to the left.

That's strange. Usually they swarm around Chloe even before she has the chance to enter the room. Like hungry smart piranhas. Grabbing the things they requested, without so much thanking Chloe. This time, she makes it all the way to the table. Alone.

"Where's everyone?" Chloe asks, taking out the items from the grocery bag. Tosses a look over her shoulders at the study table. Only Ludwig's there.

"It's alright, Ludwig. You don't need to answer," Chloe says, cutting him off before he tries to speak German.

Ludwig curtly nods, his lips twitching to his usual polite smile. He returns his attention to his tablet. Bobbing his head to his earphones.

Chloe puts all the items back to its appropriate place. Content with the silence.

"Laura's down at the biology lab, replicating a study she read," Gina's sultry voice offers, her breath tickles Chloe's neck.

Chloe flinches, nearly drops one of thick textbooks on her feet. Her heart hammering against her ribcage.

"She will fail, the sooner she realises she's using wrong chemicals," Mark whispers into the shell of her right ear.

Chloe twirls on her feet, facing the couple. Her chin tilting up, to see a two pairs of eyes—of blue and brown—staring at her. Curiosity and mischievous intertwining, shining in those eyes.

It's one thing to have Gina to invade her personal space. It's another when Mark joins along. They're way too close to her face. Like inches away from her lips. Chloe takes several steps back—an arm's length distance. Hugging the books tighter, as if they could shield her from the couple.

Chloe had imagined once on how she'd approach Gina and Mark for an interview. None of those scenarios involved them looming over her. Or cornering her with those predatory looks.

Chloe notices there's a slight resemblance between them and Mazikeen. Not in the sense they looked alike each other. Just that feeling of eerie radiating from them. Okay, appearance wise—they might be a teensy bit similar to the couple—siting firmly above average looks.

Mark Milligan and Gina Godfrey are one of those high school couples that has looks and brains. The students that you don't often find in clubs like the Aca-Decathlon club.

Like Gina, she's all legs and isn't afraid to flaunt her assets; legs and those perky boobs. Curious blue eyes and lustrous dark blonde hair. Smells like a walking and breathing wet teenage boy dream. Not cheap sex, but intoxicating temptation.

Mark is tall and thin without muscle definition to fill out his loose t-shirt. His complexion's paler than white plaster, that his bluish-green veins are prominent on his face and neck. Yet all that veins is working for him—he's attractive in a chemical sense.

Gina smiles, her blue eyes set on Chloe. "Dinesh is down at the cafeteria."

"He'd improved his scores on language, if he keeps himself off from the snack table every once in a while," Mark says, grinning a Cheshire smile.

"But who would compete in the Varsity category if his scores are close to ours," Gina retorts, rhetorical. Her tone, light and teasing.

Mark reaffirms, "So true. He's better than Gordon."

Gina makes a sweeping gaze around the room, then informs, "Philip and Lucifer are working on a science project for the upcoming YIIC."

"The what?"

"Young Innovative Ideas Competition," Mark replies, rolling his eyes.

Chloe read up on the YIIC—pronounced 'yik' by the members—in one of the study buddy manuals. One of the most important competitions that each member must achieved the top 5 to prove their worth in the team and to earn a free weekend in a luxurious spa. To win first place, essentially seals your fate as the Alpha in the group.

Chloe frowns. Damn, Lucifer's advancing faster than she is in Operation Kill Phil. "They're working on a project together? I thought YIIC don't have group category. Only individual ones."

They nod simultaneously. Did Chloe mention how freaky it is to see Gina and Mark are in perfect synch? The same tilt of their head, in the same direction, with the same sexy expressions.

"It was the same with Philip and Ramon—" Gina's voice trails off, fingering her collarbone.

"—back when Ramon's not dead," Mark fs, thumbing his lower lip.

Now, Chloe's getting somewhere. This is it. The opening she needed. The glimpse of the secretive friendship of Ramon Valdez and Philip Smoak. "That they're always working on the same project together?"

Gina answers, "Philip and Ramon were best friends," and pauses.

Mark picks up where her words hang in the air, "But their competitiveness is a whole lot different level than ours."

"Tell me more," Chloe requests, finding herself being drawn closer to them. As in she willingly walks up to them. Eagerly nodding for scraps of information they'd be parting like they're handing out gold bars.

[Snap out of it, Chloe. Don't stare at their lips—or how the lighting makes them even prettier than before. What's wrong with her? Why is she thinking about sex? Goddamnit, she has a crime to solve.]

They exchange looks, then shrug together.

[Nothing sexual about that action—but, but it makes Chloe want to strip her clothes and ask them to have her right now, right here on the study table.]

"They measured their friendship in the number of awards they won. The one with the most awards, is the best among the two. Hence, the leadership of the club should fall to that person."

"That's how this club's politics is run?" Chloe stammers, gulping down her saliva. Her eyes sliding down from Gina's face to her collarbone—Gina has a lovely collarbone.

"It's not perfect. But it works. We don't want the leadership. We just want to be in this club," Mark states, his forehead wrinkling and lips curving into a playful smirk.

[Chloe wonders if his lips would taste the same as Gina's, since they're a couple and spent most of their time latching to each other's embrace. Not that she wants to know. Because, because—that's ridiculous.]

Gina adds, "Not just our club. Ramon and Philip were part of several other clubs. Ramon used to be the president of those clubs. You don't need to be a genius to see that Philip took over all Ramon's positions in their other clubs, including the debate team."

"Do you think that Gordon killed Ramon?" Chloe questions, shaking those thoughts away. She shoots a quick glance at Ludwig. He's now snoring, with his head on his arms. Chloe's the only one feeling antsy at them—whatever's happening with them now.

"He doesn't see eye to eye with Ramon. Thought Ramon was too condescending. Insulted his intelligence more than once," Mark replies, his brown-eyed attention rests on Gina. Runs a hand through his dark chestnut hair.

"Philip's the only reason how he got into the club and why he stayed. Ramon wanted to kick his ass. Ever the peacekeeper between them two," says Gina, shifting her blue—almost purplish—eyes to Mark.

"What about Philip?"

Neither Mark nor Gina responds to Chloe's prompt of an explanation. Instead, Gina eyes Mark, almost hungrily. Mark licks his lower lip in that sensual way—Chloe finds herself blatantly staring. Without shame. The tips of her ears burn bright red. Heat creeping up from her neck to her face. Gina caresses Mark's cheek, runs her fingertips along his jawline.

[That's incredibly hot. It feels like Chloe's watching porn live—except it's not. It's just Gina touching Mark's face. Chloe swears, for a second, she thought Mark's brown eyes turned purple. It's still brown.]

"It takes a lot to piss Philip. Especially the kind of rage needed to kill someone. But who knows? Philip's a private person," Gina mutters.

"Ah, Decker," Lucifer calls out, jerking her out from staring. Chloe turns around to Lucifer motioning at her to come close.

"I need you to run a couple of errands for me. Be discreet, and allow no one to deter you from your task," Lucifer says, passing her a folded piece of paper. Then shoos her out from the room.

Chloe glances down at the list. No books, no materials. Just an instruction to 'look busy and be secretive'. Well now, at least she has time to catch up with her overdue reports.

[Also note to self; never be in the same room with Gina and Mark ever again.]