A big thank you to nick2951, RHatch89, and TooSchweddy for your continued support, and to Fun With Typing for your first review! I always appreciate getting new feedback! And to answer your question, I do not have a beta reader - I write and edit everything myself. I do have a (quite outdated) beta profile of my own, though, if anyone is curious to check it out.

Anyway, let me know what you think! This is a big chapter in terms of Viola's character development.

Chapter 17

I walk out of history a few minutes late, holding my latest essay in my hand and calling back, "Thanks, Mr. Senson!"

My history teacher smiles at me, moving to shut the door behind me. "No problem, Viola. Again, great job."

I smile down at the big, bold A plus on the paper as I head down the hallway. I've always been a good writer, but our last essay was about how Hitler managed to hold such intense control over the Nazis.

Considering what my life has become, it really wasn't that hard to fill six pages. But I'm pretty sure Hitler never wore a red trench coat.

I pause to shove the essay in my bag. If I hurry, I can still get to the cafeteria before the hot lunch line gets too long. I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't hear the murmurs of the crowd that's gathered down the hall until I'm right in the middle of it.

I look up, confused, as every student around me fumbles through their bags and pockets for their phones. At first I figure a fight is about to go down. Every time anything even as simple as an argument breaks out, everyone's first reaction is to record, record, record.

I roll my eyes and shove my way through the crowd. I guess the hot lunch line won't be that long after all. But once I reach the peak of the action, I freeze.

Mona is walking slowly down the hallway, looking completely impassive, which is concerning because she is holding a knife. Attached to the knife is what appears to be a brain.

Actually, it's a cow brain. The same kind of thing that I nearly threw up over while dissecting in biology just a month ago.

I stare at her for a moment, having trouble comprehending this, then glance over at her locker, which is open. Hanna is standing in front of it, so I squeeze through the crowd toward her. "What the hell?" I ask, grabbing her arm.

Hanna shakes her head, looking completely disgruntled. "Someone stuck that in her locker," she explains, pointing at the inside of the locker door. A sign is taped to it, just above a large wet mark that I assume was left by the brain.

TAKES ONE MAD COW TO KNOW ANOTHER.

My mouth falls open at this, and the word "dammit" comes out pretty much without my knowledge. "I'm gonna go get a janitor," I snap, and rush off, not hanging around to see what happens next, because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to stop it.

I head for the science wing, looking down hallways for a janitor's cart. I'm just a few yards away from the biology room when the door opens and my so-called best friend slips out.

I stop in my tracks, crossing my arms. "Macy."

She spins around, her face draining of color. "Oh. Hey, Vi."

I walk over slowly, glancing through the window into the dark, empty classroom. "What's up?"

"Uh, nothing," she says too quickly, but when I raise my eyebrows, she stammers for a moment and finally says, "I was just…I needed to talk to Ms. Rawlings. About our last test."

Our last test was over a week ago. But instead of straight up calling her out, I lean my shoulder against the wall and smile. "Hey, do you think she still has some of those cow brains left? The ones we dissected last month?"
Macy's brow furrows. "Ew, I don't know. But those were, like, disgusting." She checks her watch and looks around…a little nervously, I think. "Oh my god, we are both totally late to lunch. Walk with me?"
I avert my eyes from hers, looking down at the binder in my arms instead. I can identify a subject change when I hear one. "Uh, I actually have to stop at my locker. I'll meet you in the quad."

She waggles her fingers at me and heads off, and I watch her go, more sure now than ever that I have to do something.

Because it's like I told her. Family before friends.

…

Wearing the black hoodie feels a little weird when I'm not on official "A" team business. It almost feels wrong, in a way, like if Mona or Red Coat catches me, I'll be in big trouble. But aside from a few black dresses, I don't have much in the way of dark clothes.

Even so, I glance around nervously as I trek around to the back of the Littletons' house, careful not to step on any flowers despite the darkness. Something feels wrong about this, and it's not just that I'm about to commit vandalism on my own best friend. Macy hasn't been a good friend to me in months. It's not like she doesn't deserve a little revenge.

But there's a big difference between carrying out a plan that you've been ordered to, and carrying out one that's completely and totally your own idea. It was weird, walking into the lair and grabbing a hoodie without anyone else there. Even though I finally got my own key to the apartment a week ago, I still feel like I'm not completely part of the team yet.

Maybe this isn't allowed, me deciding to plan my own stunt without permission. Maybe I'll even get kicked off of the team for this. I'm alarmed to realize how much I don't want that to happen.

I shake my head, forcing myself to concentrate. I can't just stand around here forever, doubting myself. "A" has to move quickly.

Unlike at Lucas' house, I know exactly which window leads to Macy's. And, another plus, it's on the first floor…and it's wide open.

I roll my eyes, checking my watch. It's after midnight, but I should have known. Macy loves to sneak out of the house on Friday nights to go to whatever wild party is happening in town. Somehow she always manages to find out about them, even though she's never been as high on the popularity chain as she wants to be. I've gone to my fair share of parties with her, too, although the thought of having to climb a tree in the middle of the night to get back into my room usually deters me.

But tonight I'm thankful for Macy's carelessness. I climb through the open window with ease, as quietly as I can, just in case. I creep closer to the bed and find that, sure enough, it's empty. Smiling, I flick on my flashlight and shine it around her room.

For someone who is usually disorganized and scatter-brained, Macy has always kept her room neat and clean. Looking around, a new idea starts to form.

I pull the can of red spray paint out of my pocket and stare down at it. I had planned on doing the same sort of thing to Macy's room as I did to Lucas' about a month ago. Just writing something creepy and vaguely threatening on the wall and getting out.

But I hadn't expected her to be out. I walk over to the window and shine the flashlight down at the driveway. No cars. Her parents must be out, too.

This is almost perfect. Grinning, I flick on the overhead light and gaze around. I'm not so sure that I can just leave one little mark of vandalism now. After all, what Macy did to my sister was cruel and almost…dehumanizing. All I have to do is get her back in the same sort of way, and we'll be even.

There's a glass candle holder on top of her dresser. I reach out and knock it to the hardwood floor, jumping back and wincing as it shatters. Then I hurry over and open the door slowly, peering down the dark hallway. Just as I suspected, no lights come on and no footsteps come pounding up the stairs.

I really am alone.

I feel a sudden surge of adrenaline, and for the next ten minutes, I let myself go crazy. I throw every pillow on the bed to the floor, even ripping a few in the process. I knock every poster and frame off of the wall. I grab the picture of us that is wedged into the edge of the window and rip it in half.

Once I've vandalized the room about as much as I dare, I turn in a circle, looking for a big enough wall space to write on. What catches my eye instead is the wide mirror above her vanity.

I pull the spray paint out of my pocket and hold it up to the mirror, but pause. I only have a limited amount of room to work with, and the paint comes out pretty thick.

I frown, contemplating this as I shove it back into my hoodie. My gaze lands on her pretty extensive makeup collection, untouched on the vanity. It's the one thing in the room that I carefully left alone. I know how much Macy obsesses over makeup, and I'm not a complete monster.

I reach out, picking up a red lipstick and twisting off the cap. It looks new, maybe not even used yet. This somehow makes it even more satisfying to flatten the tip against the mirror as I write, in big letters.

Who's the mad cow now?

I pause, just about to sign it with the customary "A," out of habit more than anything. But I stop myself. Somehow I don't think that it's a good idea, this being my own personal revenge and all.

I stick the cap back on the lipstick and carefully replace it on the tray. Then I take one more look around the room, and, satisfied, flick off the light and climb back out the window.

The adrenaline has completely worn off by this point, and I lean against the brick side of the house, breathing hard. I just totally trashed my best friend's room. Sure, Macy can be a huge bitch, but I suddenly feel like a bigger one.

And the scariest part is…it was fun. Vandalism should not be fun. Anonymously breaking into people's houses should not be fun.

I'm beginning to think that there is something wrong with me. My hands shaking, I reach up and push down the hood, shaking out my hair. I turn back, glancing into Macy's bedroom and happening to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, behind the bright red words.

My hair is messy and a little frizzy from being pressed down by the hood, and my face is sweaty from trashing the room. But my eyes are big and sparkling, not with tears but with…joy.

I turn away and trudge back to the street, heading to my car. Can crazy really run in the family? I never used to think so, but after what I just did, I'm starting to doubt myself.

I remember thinking that living in an adrenalized hyper reality sounded kind of like a super power. But right now, I feel more like a villain.

...

Hope you enjoyed! Next, Viola's vow to keep anyone from getting hurt is officially broken.