I take a sip of coffee, which is now cold, and stare at the pattern of leaves on the mug as if I might learn something from it. I imagine the aftermath of their big reveal. The community will splinter—some people will stay loyal to Sari, and others will side with Deli. There will be posts, and screenshots, and a sickening cycle of apologies and sub-tweets and after-action reviews in every group chat. For a moment, I wonder if I’m the only one who sees how hollow the victory will be.
Panic rises in my gut at the idea that I have to weigh in. “I think this is a big deal, and you chose this time and place for a reason. I wonder if we’ve considered how it will affect everyone else at the party. It’s going to be off-putting for them and make them feel a lot of different things. Do we want to set up an ‘us versus them’ question for people who aren’t involved in your journey or don’t have a dog in the fight, so to speak?”
They both look at me as if I’ve lost my marbles, and I sigh.
Check.
They want to force a situation at a public event that makes community members take sides with them or the leaders of the community and their families. They’re out for blood—or Belle is, and Sari is going along with it because she’s hurting over Deli’s ‘defection’.
Constantine adores the cat, and he’s going to get caught in the middle of this. But I’ve chosen my side, I guess, and now I either play along or get kicked off the ride. Is being accepted that important to me?
I look at the trinkets and baubles they have given me since I arrived, including jewelry with my new nicknames and many goodies that define my relationships with them, and I purse my lips.
Now is the time, Amanda. Either go big or go home alone, woman.
All this soul-searching and quests with Con and the others will have been for nothing if you end up out in the street, alone, nixed by the Capulets and the Montagues of this place you gave everything up for.
I lean back in my chair, careful to telegraph cool confidence. “I get it now. If we want a true showdown, then Belle’s right—timing and spectacle are everything, but so is the long game. We need to leverage every opportunity, every moment, every word spoken in a hallway or a bathroom line, to slip doubts and wedge cracks open in the veneer. The party is just a flash point, not the entire campaign. Even outside the party, we can sow chaos—DMs, rumors, the offhanded text sent to the right person at the worst moment. Every weakness matters. We know everyone’s resentments, every old flirtation, every friendship that’s already bent and ready to snap. We feed those fractures, not just at the ‘event’. but everywhere they gather, everywhere they talk.” I pause so it sounds spontaneous, but I can tell Belle’s eating it up and Sari’s memorizing every syllable. “We’re not after the climax yet. This is the fun part.”
Belle’s eyes widen, and then she looks at me, her expression twisting from calculation to delight. It’s the first time I’ve seen her drop the mask of amused detachment since I arrived. The corners of her mouth curl up, and her teeth show, sharp and small, in a grin so pure it’s almost childlike. “Hell yes! See, Sari, I told you she had it in her.” She drums her fingers again, this time lighter, a little dance across the wood. “Mayhem is going to love this. He’s been waiting to see what you can do.”
I blink, unsure if I’ve misheard. “Mayhem has been waiting to see me?”
The name still feels absurd, even after weeks of this, but the man himself is more than a punchline. I’ve only seen him at a distance—at the gym, in the market, on that one night at Sari’s. Belle’s clone mate is tall with a jawline so sharp it looks like a weapon. He never talks to me, not directly. But Belle just tossedhis name onto the table like it’s a dare, and Sari is suddenly paying full attention to my reactions.
It’s not that I haven’t noticed him. You’d have to be dead not to.
The stories about Mayhem are as thick as the perfume in these circles, all violence and heat and those rare flashes of tenderness he saves for his tightest crew. The rumor mill has him and Belle in some kind of nonstandard arrangement, and Sari, once upon a time, maybe more than once, but never with commitment. The man is a force, but also a magnet for women who want to burn themselves alive just to see how it feels.
And now Belle is dangling him in front of me.
I must look skeptical, because Belle laughs, a high, bright peal that bounces off the kitchen cabinets. “Don’t give me that look. He’s been eyeing you since you started hanging around. Ask anyone,” she says, gesturing at Sari, who rolls her eyes with such practiced skill I wonder if she’s rehearsed it.
Sari crosses her arms, and the glint in her eye is almost predatory. “He likes a challenge. Your first mistake is acting like you’re immune.”
I snort. “I’m not immune. I just… didn’t think he cared what I did. Plus, I don’t want to be a pawn in someone’s game; I’m not pathetic.”
Belle leans back, regarding me with new respect. “You don’t have to be a pawn. That’s the thing. You can be a queen if you learn how to move.” She reaches for the scone crumbs on Sari’s plate, picks one up with the tips of her fingers, and pops it into her mouth. “But you have to let people underestimate you first.”
It’s almost funny how this conversation has shifted. A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have believed I’d be sitting here plotting the social demolition of half the town, or that anyone would think I had the stones for it. Even now, there’s a part of me that wants to back away, tell them it’s gone too far, not my style. Mostly, I feel the weird thrill of inclusion instead of just another spectator on the curb.
“Mayhem’s not really my type,” I say, but it’s lame, and they both know it.
Of course he is. He’s everyone’s type, and I can’t claim otherwise.
Belle shrugs. “That’s what makes it interesting. He’ll chase you harder if you keep saying that.”
Sari picks up her phone and waves it at me. “I could show you the messages he’s sent me about you, but I won’t.” She tucks the phone away, and for a second I see the shadow of something like jealousy, or maybe just curiosity, flit across her face. “Anyway, boys are boring in the end. The real fun is building legions of minions.”
That I believe. Sari is one hundred percent interested in that above all. I know exactly how these groups of women work, and how easily they can turn into traps. I’ve seen it in every group I’ve ever been part of, from high school lunch tables to the grad school reading circles where we built each other up and then tore each other down for sport.
“Do you think Deli will be able to handle it?” I ask, wanting to sound strategic, but really just wondering if the girl at the center of all this will get the edge no matter what we do.
Sari’s mouth turns up at the edges. “She thinks she can outmaneuver us, but that’s just going to make the crash worse.”
“Taurus is solid as a rock,” I say. “He won’t let this happen without fighting back.”
Belle shakes her head, dismissive. “He’s loyal, but not stupid. Striking out at the party at her house will prove what we’ve been saying about him and Talia.” She looks at Sari. “And you’ve been spreading the right things, yes?”
