The Geek Revolution ✓

23 | solved

FOLLOWING OUR UNSUCCESSFUL ATTEMPT TO get answers about what really happened to Benjamin, we threw our efforts out the window and decided to watch the football game. There's a time to fight and a time to relax.

From our position in the stands, we're looking right across at the marching band on the opposite side of the field, and had a great view when Quentin and Callum performed during halftime. I'm not a huge football fan, nor do I take pleasure in cheering for any team that Reece Dormer is on, but the five of us refused to let Terrence's prank smother our enjoyment of Homecoming.

Three minutes into the last quarter, I steal away to use the bathroom in school. I don't mind missing the rest of the game because it's clear from the current score that the Royals will win. When I emerge into the corridor, a voice sounds, creating a gunshot echo in a hallway full of quiet. "Did you like the show?"

I have an urge to scream, but pushing it — and the shiver of fright that runs through me — away, I turn to face Terrence. My lips pull taut into a cold frown. "What are you doing here?"

Terrence leans against the wall behind a row of lockers, hidden in shadow. His arms are crossed loosely, looking the picture of trouble. "Just checking up on a friend." Admittedly, it's a small slip of the tongue, but the way he calls me his friend makes my eye twitch.

"We're not friends," I clarify. "Not after what you did to Benjamin."

"Right." He eyes me with a guarded expression, but Terrence moves on quickly with barely a blink before I can peer closer. "Would you rather it had been you then? Or another of your buddies?"

"I— yes. You should have picked me," I answer resolutely. I draw my shoulders wider, raising my head to meet Terrence's hooded eyes. "You could have picked me. I mean, it wasn't really a chance draw, was it?"

Terrence pushes away from the wall and takes a step closer. His cheeky smile is as light-hearted as ever, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Why would it be? I built the whole rig myself. I put in the time and energy required to pull off those... special effects." He dances around saying anything concrete, anything incriminating. "I wasn't going to leave the finale of weeks of work to chance. Maximum impact for maximum effort."

That means he chose Benjamin specifically, for some reason. I fist my hands at my side, clamping down on the rage I feel. "And why did using Benjamin have maximum impact?"

For a moment I think Terrence will simply walk away. He rolls his eyes, unwilling to say a thing. Then he tips his head down condescendingly. "Because through him, I get to you."

The mocking, arrogant expression in Terrence's eyes makes me lash out. He can't rig an event just to humiliate my friend, dump him into a dangerously cold tank, chuck a snake in there for good measure and expect to get away with it. I take a step closer to him, which does not go unnoticed, and without warning I punch him as hard as I can.

Terrence recoils, hand coming to cradle his face. He nearly trips over his own feet — which I would have liked to see — but manages to stabilise himself. After rolling his jawbone experimentally, he chuckles. "Point proven."

My frown deepens at his derisive tone. I press on, angry but indubitably curious. "Where'd you get the snake?"

Feeling that the blow left no permanent damage, Terrence lowers his hand and smiles wickedly. "How about we make a deal? I'll tell you everything you want to know, if you tell me everything I want to know."

That immediately sounds like a bad idea. Of course, I want to know exactly what Terrence planned, but I have an equal desire to keep our plans hidden. The Revolution has barely begun; I don't want to sacrifice the headstart we built. There is a part of me that acts instantly, yelling at me to turn around and not get drawn into his game; the logical side. And, a desperate side that weaves its way through and whispers for me to find out. This side of me aches for immediate justice. Short-term satisfaction.