How To Be A Player

</3 Chapter 3 </3

After getting four compliments from total strangers, there was nothing else in the world I would have wished for more than to get the hell out of school. I was already drawing far too much attention. I knew this sort of thing would happen if I had to go through a “girly” morph. If anyone so much as remembers my face—I’m screwed. It’s as simple as that. Imagine what would happen if the next subject was . . . a Goth type! I can’t just go from girly to Goth and not draw attention! Rule number one in the WWR: Do NOT, under ANY circumstances, DRAW ATTENTION!

I all but lunged at the door when the final bell rang, signaling all sufferers temporary freedom. Hoisting my bag higher up my shoulder, I walked in a fast pace to the Z wing where all of the Elite’s lockers are. It was at the farthest end of the school, completely away from any non-Elites, which was absolutely perfect for me. 

No one lingered (usually) in the Z wing. We were all there to simply get our things and get the hell out before anyone decided to pick on us. No staying behind to chat with friends, no one was ever late to their lockers and we all came and left at once without any idle chatter. The Elites were a whole that never spoke to one another.

We all had something in common and that is what bound us together. We went to each other for a haven from the lower ranks and we comforted each other with our presence and not our words. Maybe our bonds were manufactured and placed between us all simply because we were all Elites and not built by each other. But it didn’t really matter because we were all strung together whether we liked it or not. No cliques, exclusions, or drama. The life of Elites was pretty good, in my opinion, and I’m more than happy to be one—especially in such a clique-y school like Thornwood.

Zack and I never really did talk when we went to our lockers—especially when I was reaping and could draw too much attention to the two of us. Our conversations were left for inside the club room and outside: the only two places we could be the real us.

I headed for the stairwell and descended to the lowest floor of the school where the WWR Club was held. Zack was close behind me and if a bystander was watching us, it would just look like two un-acquainted people who coincidently are heading to level 0—just like how we planned for it to look like.

*~*~*

Zack positioned himself right behind his computer screen and I sat down on a plastic chair. In here, it was all business.

“So, I heard you spoke to the subject.” Zack stated in a flat tone. I cringed, that was not a good sign. He shouldn’t even know that I talked to him, and because he did that told me that word got around to him that I did.

“Briefly,” I stated while being careful to not make any eye contact.

“Not brief enough, apparently.” Zack said while shutting his laptop with a loud bang. He pinched the bridge of his nose; something he did when he was deep in thought or frustrated. “Three people. Three people, Ava. I heard three people talking about “a blond slut that was planning on whoring it up with Cameron”. Not only that but word on the Withering Willow is spreading.”

I sat there in silence, feeling guilty about all of this. I figured Zack was mad at me for drawing too much attention—as he should be. I could’ve just ruined all of our hard work. ”Is there something going on, Ava?” I shook my head, a little confused at the random question. “Something suspicious is going on. We’ve been keeping a good cover for a long time and our execution is nearly flawless. Some one knows something and they’re spreading things about you—or the Withering Willow. Too many people are becoming curious. No one knows Cameron is our current target so they aren’t suspicious of you, but Ava . . . I’m worried about you. Can you handle this?” Zack asked, surprising me with such a concerned question and the tender sound to his voice. I admit, I was relieved to know he wasn’t mad at me.