When Bad Meets Worse

Chapter 6

A/N:

the hunger games teaser trailer is out!!!

yeah... just had to say that.

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The next few days passed by. No one else died. So far. School went on as usual, and Shernice Carter's absence was brushed off, regarded as a truant incident. She was actually a classmate of mine; in literature class. She blended in quite well, come to think of it. Nothing out of the ordinary. She was as normal as any other sixteen year old girl. Huh. All the more reason to watch out for the remaining Players.

Jorgen and I got closer. As friends. Although we were officially with the "Cool Clan", as they called themselves, we knew we were somewhat different. Jorgen was only there because he was in the basketball team; turns out he was one of the lucky few sixteen year olds who managed to make the team that year; although it was still a mystery how he got in on day one. I was there because I had nothing better to do, and because Jorgen and I were "close pals", they couldn't exactly kick me out.

Jean was getting along just fine. She even joined the cheerleading squad. At first it was a "uh..." moment between us when she joined those whores, but then it was glossed over and we were good friends again. The obsequious cheerleaders were surprisingly okay once you get to know them (and also once you get used to their strident voices). Sure they can be bitches sometime, but they can be nice when they want to, even if it wasn't often. At least they stopped giving us black looks.

The jocks were a decent bunch. Most of them were just born social, popular and athletic, but there were others who were there because they were on the basketball team. These were pretty cool guys to hang out with, and they were not afraid to be seen talking to a "lowly" girl.

The relationship between Jorgen and I was... Complicated, to say the least. We were friends. Or for a better word, frenemies. We liked to bicker over insignificant things. Like whether cycling was faster or skating was faster.

Observe one of our conversations.

"It's a pork sandwich, I tell you!"

"Nah. It has to be chicken!"

"Pork!"

"Chicken!"

"Pork!"

... And our footle goes on for a long long time, until the subject is changed...

"Oh shut it! Or I'll.. I'll..." I stammered, mind blank of any witty comebacks. Jorgen smirked victoriously at my predicament.

"Or I'll squash you like a sausage!"

Really. Face palm time. That. Must be the worst comeback in the history of comebacks.

Jorgen apparently thought so too, as he howled with laughter, along with whoever was listening to our conversation. "Well so-or-ry. My father did not educate me in the art of insulting," I retorted sarcastically, trying to hide my embarrassment. "So your mother did?" Jorgen managed to choked out.

My mood changed. "My mother died when I was young."

Jorgen stopped abruptly. He stared at me with a confused expression before saying softly, "I'm sorry." "Nah it's okay. Hey I hope Ms Weatherby brings popcorn like the last lesson. It was swell," I hurriedly changed the subject. Jorgen didn't pursue the topic of my parents any further, but scrutinized me with a curious look.

He was always giving me that look. It was starting to give me the creeps. It was like those stark violet eyes could see right through you. It was times like that when I feared he knew that I was a Player. But one of the weird things was that he would give me that look, and then go back to his annoying playboy self, flirting with girls. Those were snippets of Jorgen's real self; the "dark side" of him, as cliche as it may sound. As we become closer friends, we were getting more distant; liking each other as a friend, a person to rely on, and at the same time afraid of hurting each other.

Reckon from his point of view, I was just a burden; a dead weight; a liability. That is, if he doesn't know I'm a Player yet. The other weird thing was that after the first day of school, he completely stopped wearing his identity necklace.

Why was that?

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Slowly, but surely, I came to know my classmates. There was Annie who liked rock music, John who was a skater boy, Jenna who liked fighting shows, Amy who was a whiz in the kitchen, Conner who could break dance pretty well, Christina who was such a saintly girl, and so on. It was scary how anyone could be a Player.

I was slowly accepted into the student body, as the first week passed. Soon, it was the weekend, and there were no news of any more deaths.

I found myself spending the weekend as any other, weights, training, the usual. The only exception was that I had homework, and my mind was in a constant whirl.

And like that the weekend passed.

Only to be followed by an eventful Monday.

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"I know your secret. Meet me at the boiler room tomorrow at 6pm. Bring your identity necklace"

... What. The. Hell.

It was Monday of the second week of school at GreenValley. I was just getting ready for lesson, when I saw the ripped piece of lined paper taped to the underside of the desk, such that it was visible to the person who sat in front of the table.

It was definitely written by a girl. The feminine curves of the letters and the whiff of perfume from the scented paper pointed in that direction.

However, it was the succinctness and abruptness of the note that stunned me. Who sent this? Is it a lone person, or an alliance? Whom was it sent to, besides me? Why? Is it a trap? What should be done about this?

I carefully folded the note and slipped it into my wallet.

What a drag. As much as I hated to admit it, I was starting to get into the high school life. It was rather relaxing. I was hoping to enjoy more of it, before having to... Well, fight.

I'll have to contemplate carefully. But one thing's for sure. The asshole who sent the note will be sorry.

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The day went normally. No-one jumped out behind walls brandishing weapons. Why should they? They had already made their first move. All they had to do was wait. I didn't know whether their cockiness was to be feared or pitied. If it was a group, they were probably at an advantage in numbers. However, if it was a lone person, then whoever it was must have some balls taunting people like that.

As I pondered over the matter, I wondered if Jorgen got the note as well. If he did, he certainly didn't seem to care about it. He went about flaunting his looks, being smart, you get the picture. I took his lead and hid whatever emotion I had pertaining to the unexpected turn of events. "Expect the unexpected". Chyeah... Easier said than done.

School passed by in a blur, and I soon found myself waving goodbye to Jorgen and Jean, heading towards the waiting car on the road.

When I got home, I checked and double checked my weapons, making sure my SIG was full and my knife was sharp. I threw in a silencer, just in case. Then I went downstairs to do some last minute training, mainly at the shooting range and gym.

Everything went like a clockwork. Train. Homework. Eat. Relax.

Bedtime came and I thought over what I was going to attempt tomorrow. I conferred with Father, and based on my prior knowledge of the boiler room (I went and inspected every nook and cranny of GreenValley High during my first couple of days there), a plan was formulated. But regardless of our detailed planning, there were many variables that had yet to be confirmed. I just have to follow the plan closely and wing whatever was necessary.

Slowly, sleep overtook as I laid on my bed.

Tomorrow... Tomorrow...

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