After dismissing himself from Theodora, Jeno headed toward the refreshment table with Miren. Scanning the dance hall to make sure no one was paying attentionâand no one wasâhe slipped into the darkened kitchen, motioning for Miren to follow. He shut the door behind them, silencing the room.
"It's almost time," Jeno said, his eyes on his illuminated wristwatch. At ten they would begin. "Are you ready?"
"I'm afraid I don't have a choice either way." She leaned against the wall facing the dance hall, in between what she made out to be a stove and sink. She closed her eyes, taking in the darkness. It would probably be simpler to disappear inside it. She might have even preferred it. But no one said revenge was easy.
"How much longer?" Miren asked, feeling her stomach fill and flutter with anxiety.
"We'll meet the others outside once you..." There was a sound of wrinkling. A bag. "...Put this on." Her eyes had adjusted to the absence of light and she caught the white bag midair. Letting the sheer, plastic container glide to the floor, she was confused by what she felt. Fabric. And something else.
"What is this?" she said, using her hands as eyes against the material.
"A dress." She could hear his feet shuffling before her. "Put it on and we can go."
The darkness couldn't conceal the level of distress in her eyes. "Um, right now?"
"Yes, right now. There isn't a bathroom or anything, so I fully expect you to strip naked in front of me." He was walking away from her now. A door opened in the kitchen, and a light flicked on. It was the bathroom.
Miren rolled her eyes before heading toward the room. "You know you're supposed to use inflection to show sarcasm, right?"
Jeno shrugged, shutting the door. "It's more fun not to."
The florescent light of the room was blinding. Miren blinked a couple of times, and when that didn't help, she decided to get down to business anyway. Her eyes focused on the items in her hands. A dress. And the foreign material she felt earlier was a cap that encased a wig. She groaned at the objects. The humiliation never ended.
But wasn't it over, technically? She unfolded the outfit, which was a powder white dress with long sleeves. The choice wasn't horrible, but she would hardly call it her taste. But that didn't matter much now, did it?
Alright, how do I put this on again? She stripped down to her undergarments, deciding to keep on her gauze in case she had to make a quick change. Pooling the dress over her head and seeing that there was no room to enter her limbs, she took it off. She scratched her head, contemplating this for a moment. Even as a girl she never bothered dressing up outside of her usual uniform.
There was a tap on the door.
"I thought being a boy would have taught you to dress quickly. Hurry up." She gave an aggravated huff at the door. She wasn't dressing as a boy. She was dressing as a girl. And apparently it was more work than she remembered.
Scanning the article of clothing, she noticed an invisible zipper at the back of the chiffon fabric. Breathing a sigh of relief, she carefully unzipped it, entering the gown one step at a time. Eyeing herself in the mirror, it was weird seeing her usual form in female clothing. The fading Rinzen tattoo was the only thing that reminded her of her alter ego. She shook off the thought, realizing that she was still missing something. Hair.
She placed the netted cap over her head before pulling the black wig over it. She examined herself again. Huh, I didn't know I could look good in bangs. But she was wasting time. She combed her hair as straight as she could with her fingers and opened the door.
"You forgot these." Jeno handed her a pair of black pumps. She placed them on her bare feet before examining her look. "You clean up fairly well."
Miren didn't know what he meant by fairly, but she knew that her re-transformation was incomplete without make-up or earrings. She shook her head. Unessential. But she didn't know how essential heels were.
"I can't run in these," she informed him, shifting her weight uncomfortably on each foot. "And they're a little snug." Chara probably picked them out. Apparently she had issues with correct shoe sizes.
"Who said you'll be running?" Jeno said, walking further into the darkness. "You're just the spectacle. Now let's go, the others are waiting." He extended his arm out for her to grab onto. With a sigh she did, in an effort to stable her elevated feet.
The kitchen conveniently had a door that led out to a closed off hallway. The space was almost as opaque as the kitchen, but the windows offered a generous amount of moonlight. Miren relaxed in the emptiness, hearing the muted sounds of the dance hall diminish as they walked further. After a few minutes, they approached the end of the hallway. On the striped wall, there was a large portrait of a man. Probably the founder. To their left was an exit door, and to the wall adjacent to that was a wide, carpeted staircase. As well as their accomplices to the plan, Wallace and Chara.
Wallace raised an eyebrow as they descended the steps. "Why are you guys holding hands?"
The question caught the two off guard. Glancing at their joined hands, Miren was the first to release.
"She can't walk in heels," Jeno replied plainly.
"Of course I can," Miren snapped. "Besides, you offered your hand."
"And you took advantage of it."
"And you're an assâ"
"Children," Chara began, clasping her hands. "As fun as it is watching you two bicker, there'll be plenty of time to do that later," she assured them with a giddy smile on her lips. "You look pretty, Miren."
"Yes, yes, you look very nice," Wallace said hastily, bringing out his phone. "It's almost ten, and depending on how well all of us take directions, this can either be fast and easy, or difficult and disappointing." He began pacing the floor. "Right now we're at the north staircase of the mess hall. Upstairs there are additional bathrooms and storage units. We're gonna have to convince Penelope to go up there and die."
"What?" Miren knew he was joking, but she couldn't determine the extent. It's not like she cared about the girl's wellbeing, but it seemed like a pretty anti-climatic effort. Big deal. Penelope would just gain pity if she got hurt. And pity would mean more popularity in her case.
"If you had taken a look at Penelope's record you would have discovered some interesting things. It outlines her family life and health records. It almost justifies why she's such a colossal bitch," said Wallace.
Miren's eyes widened. Now she hated herself for rejecting the file. But she didn't need any reason to show the girl sympathy; it's not like Penelope had ever shown any toward her. "How so?"
"Considering the fact that everyone else in her family is far more remarkable than her, starting with her older brother who's a twenty-seven year old Harvard trained neurosurgeon that graduated high school at twelve, I can see why she has some problems."
Miren nodded. She remembered Benjamin vaguely. He was a quiet kid who locked himself in his room during the holidays when he wasn't off doing relief work overseas. He reminded her of herself, actually. Even though Penelope never talked much about him.
"So that's probably why she made such a fuss about losing the Rising Scholar Award," Chara added. Miren thought that this information would affect her, at least slightly, but instead she felt a new fire fuel her cause. So what if Penelope's home life was a little bit intimidating? At least she had one. Maybe they didn't love her as much as she wanted them to, but at least they cared for her. I never had that.
"We're getting off topic," Jeno then said. "The plan is as follows: First, Miren will lure her upstairs. But you shouldn't interact with her until you reach the restroom. You'll be The Ghost."
Miren looked at her gown. That would explain the coloring. In the dark space, her white dress made her the most visible, even though her dark brown skin blended into the environment.
"While Miren leads her there, Chara will act as The Lookout. Intervene if Penelope tries to go back downstairs." Jeno then said. "I'm not against violence, but don't kill her."
"You sure about that?" Chara asked. "It sounds much easier than having Miren haunt her down the hall." Jeno shook his head.
"Once WallaceâThe Brainsâmessages Penelope to come out here, it'll probably take a half hour for the whole ordeal to go down. So no need staining your hand's with Van Helsing's vampire blood."
"So what do once we have her cornered in the bathroom?" Miren asked, not quite connecting the dots.
"The restroom is set up with cameras to record Penelope confessing to her crimes. After you hopefully get an admission from her, I'll step in," Jeno offered, a smirk replacing his usual scowl. "The Sleep Doctor."
"The Sleep Doctor?" Miren fought the urge to laugh at the code name he coined for himself. Though, undercover operations seemed incomplete without them. Even if they were stupid.
"Once she's detained, you'll use this." With gloved hands, he brought out a small, glass container with an official label. GHB. Miren's eyes widened.
"You want me to drug her?" He shrugged like this was a shrug-gable matter.
"Wallace said she had a flask on her," he offered. "Find away to swap it with our GHB flask when she isn't looking. Make sure she takes a sip and wait. The bathroom will be locked and about fifteen minutes should do it. Â She'll pass out and won't remember a thing afterwards. Then we'll plant this bottle of sleeping pills and the flask in her hands..." He presented the container of Ambien and the replica flask, which was tastefully bejeweled in pink gems. "...And everyone will think she tried to kill herself afterâ"
"Losing the tile of Homecoming Queen," Miren concluded, realizing how sickeningly simple this whole operation was. If it could be executed properly, that is.
"Exactly."
"Hopefully her parents won't be too cheap to send her to rehab," Wallace said, with a wicked grin. "I selected a pretty nice one in Santa Monica, too."
And then there would be no more Penelope. At least for a while.
"But wait," Miren said, hating to rain on the parade they set up. "Once she goes to the hospital, won't they realize that she has liquid ecstasy in her system?" She shook her head. Sure, Penelope's moral code was practically non-existent, but that didn't mean Miren's was. Weren't they taking things too far? Even despite the hell Penelope had given her?
But then Miren remembered the time Penelope pushed her down a flight of stairs. Then the Rising Scholar Assembly. And just like that, she was suddenly okay with this scheme.
"It doesn't matter," Jeno said, shaking his head. "She's probably been drinkingâeveryone knows even the water bowl is spiked. Besides, the speculation will be more than enough."
"Plus, I have her suicide note right here," Wallace said, waving a piece of paper within a ziplock bag.
Miren pursed her lips before nodding. If someone said your house was burning, you'd go home and see if it was true, wouldn't you? So if you thought your daughter was trying to kill herself, you'd send her away to recover, wouldn't you?
"But the most important thing is the confession. Get that and we're clear if you can't swap out the flasks," Jeno said. "We can try the second part later. Maybe try to recreate the suicide attempt in a few days at her dorm," he offered.
"Furthermore, her record indicates that she takes medication for manic depression. The school counselor has a super detailed report on herâI haven't even gone through all of it," Wallace presented, folding his arms.
Depression? Miren considered, finding the fact absurd. What does the girl with everything have to be depressed about? But maybe that was it. Failing to meet high expectations could be horribly disappointing. But still.
When Jeno clasped his hands together, everyone knew that the chase and capture would begin. Now.
The Ghost.
The Lookout.
The Brains.
The Sleep Doctor.
It was time to seize Van Helsing.
**
Penelope was taking the loss better than anyone could have expected. Her head was tilted up, and the expression on her face couldn't entirely be concluded as anger or remorse.
However, a darkened aurora showered her form as she sipped a cup of water. Normally she would have felt embarrassed, standing by herself at the refreshment table. But she had already been humiliated in front of the entire student body. What more could she lose?
Parker had left her side, offering his slick dance moves to Klondike and Jemma. Why not, after all? They were seniors. And they didn't need a bitter little junior cramping their style. Penelope crossed her arms, her tongue angrily lashing against the inside of her cheek. What had she done wrong, after all? So she made one girl's life hell. Big whoop. Did that mean she was doomed to suffer at the hands of people who were supposed to be the closest to her?
She just wanted to get this over with. But she needed the signal from Wallace. She tapped her fingers impatiently against the table, her face contorted in a "Why me?" expression. It was Homecoming. And she was aloneâshe was a loser.
"Would you care to dance?" Penelope turned to her side. Well, she was alone. With a hand outstretched toward hers, Henry was beaming. Penelope scoffed in disgust. What, did he think he had a chance with her all of a sudden?
"Why don't you beat it before I get angry?" Try more angry. She couldn't prevent her nose from flailing, and in the dim light, she looked like a psychotic devil. Henry backed away.
"Geez, I thought it would cheer you up." He was walking away now. "Such a sore loser..."
Penelope blinked rapidly at his diminishing form, trying to restrain from screaming. Sore loser? That was it. Miren had cost Penelope her title and her dignity. When her phone began to vibrate in the side pocket of her dress, she answered it without hesitation.
It was time to end this.