Jeno could have gotten lost in the historical arches that composed most of New Haven, Connecticut. But naturally, his eyes focused ahead as he walked along Yale's prestigious campus. Although it was still tundra outside, many students were out and about like the overachievers they were. As they fluttered about, their anxious energy practically warmed the air, but it didn't warm him.
To think, in a matter of months he'd be in one of them. He knew he wasn't Yale material, but college was college. Carbon copy Ivy leagues included.
Before the artic air could numb his limbs completely, he made it to one of the engineering and applied science buildings. He expected someone to stop him, but it was like the universe realized he was in a foul mood and respected that. The facility was a modern wonder, with translucent glass walls and machines both on display and being worked on that he had never seen in his life, and admittedly didn't care for. Guess he'd have to reconsider his early acceptance to MIT.
He went down a flight of stairs, and entered a hallway that apparently decided on a computer-theme, what with several research posters on Natural Language Processing Systems and Core-Processor Digital Data Architectures and blah blah blah on the invisible walls. He made it halfway through the hallway when he saw Wallace typing on a computer with three large monitors. It looked like he was coding something. Again, Jeno's lack of interest remained.
"You could have just called." Wallace turned around, but still resumed typing. "Last thing I need is you dying in a snowstorm. Something tells me you're the haunting type."
Jeno would have smirked until he remembered why he was here. "Hello to you too."
"I'm serious."
"That's my line." Jeno took in the room. It was about the size of a classroom, with other seats and supercomputers. Probably for the other graduate students. "Besides, you didn't tell me that you were leaving Rinzen permentantly." His gaze returned to the boy. "Above everyone else, I thought you were my friend."
"And I thought Chara loved me." Wallace shrugged, typing a little faster now. However, the pain in his hazel eyes, although subtle, was as evident as the sadness in Jeno's. "I guess you had the right idea about not trusting anyone."
"What happened to us?" Jeno said, taking a seat next to him. "I know I don't always have nice things to say about Chara, but I never thought of her as the betraying type. Nor did I think that Miren would just disappear without telling me." His hands balled up into fists as he looked at his former peer. "It's been a week, Wallace. I knew you wouldn't hide her whereabouts from me, but I had to make sure."
Wallace scoffed, but finally stopped typing as he turned to his friend. "I obviously don't know the full story beyond the whole video thing and Theodora's involvement with the Rising Scholar Award, but I can't help but wonder why you're so worked up about all of this. I mean, Chara isn't. I'm trying not to be. And we're the only ones who have actually put ourselves on the line for her." He wrinkled his nose. "Yet, you're the one who's convinced that you have some sort of connection with her. But why? Why do you even like her?
"I mean, I helped her before because of Chara. But you have no reason to hate Penelope, or to feel some type of way about Miren," he continued, his eyes narrowing shiftily against his friend. "And don't say it's because she's different. Because that's racist."
Jeno rolled his eyes at Wallace's somber attempt at a joke. "Affection isn't logical."
"But you are," Wallace pressed.
"What do you want me to say?" he said, rising to his feet. "That I've been in love with her since the first time we met in middle school or something cliché like that? I knew who she was before, but I didn't think anymore of her than your budding alcoholic ex-girlfriend. And yes, she is different," he defended. "She's somehow above everything that is petty and juvenile, and yet she's also fallen victim to it. And I just wanted to help her." He closed his eyes, his lips quivering in frustration. "I just want her to be like..."
"You?" Wallace guessed almost jokingly.
Jeno's eyes parted and he sighed. "The girl five seconds before my sorry excuse for an ex-girlfriend ruined everything."
Wallace blinked at him in confusion. "Wait, what?"
"I was on that stage," he began softly, somberly. "I was three feet away from Miren. And the look she had on her face when she won, just to lose everything..." He shook his head. "It still makes my stomach turn. I keep thinking about how the situation would have gone if maybe I had won. Maybe I could have held her back before she lost it," he offered, his gaze briefly falling against the window, the tiny flurries scattering in the air, "And then I think about if the whole soda spill didn't happen. I would have asked her out. And maybe we'd be planning some corny date for Valentine's Day." A shadow of a smile grazed his lips. "I mean, she'd probably hate itâI'd hate it. But now I have no idea where we stand, or if she'll ever look at me the same way again." He turned to his friend, who seemed just as lost in thought as he did. "Tell me, how bad did I really fuck up?"
There was a pause, and it didn't help the air, let alone neutralize it. Wallace began with a exaggerated hiss. Great.
"It's difficult to say," he said not very difficultly. "From my perspective, I don't think what you didâor didn't doâwas entirely wrong. You have history with Theodora and she made a dumb mistake. She's not a bad person, and to condemn her for that one act of stupidity is just a little bit hypocritical.
"Then again, Theodora would have been let off easily because she's rich as hell. Plus, it's not like her reputation would have been put in jeopardy. After all, Soren's identity stayed under wraps until you decided to tattle on him," he considered. "So exposing Theodora wouldn't have meant throwing her under the bus. It would've been more like pushing her toward a bus. Thus, when you decided not to do it, Miren interpreted it as you picking Theodora over her. And video or no video, she has a right to be upset about that." Wallace resumed typing. "Did it warrant running away? I guess not. But she just needs some time to blow some steam. She had an out before and now she's trapped. It makes sense to want to disappear."
"Not into thin air." Jeno shook his head, eyeing the suddenly busy boy. "I know you helped her leave. Roger said she was supposed to be back by Monday, but that the 'funeral' was pushed back." He shook his head. "I get it. You don't have to tell me where she is, but I need to know that she's okay. I need to know when she's coming back." His gaze narrowing on him. "She is coming back, right?"
Wallace stopped typing. When he turned around slowly, Jeno knew he wouldn't like what he was about to say.
"I didn't help her," he said slowly, his eyes widening. "Isn't she still talking to Chara? Because I have no idea where she is."
***
Like Jeno, Chara was also on a fieldtrip. Only, it wasn't entirely due to her own free will. After all, she was missing animation club for this, her ACT prep class. She ignored the thought as the bus began its path toward Rosemunde, hugging the boatload of party materials on the seat next to her. When a sudden stop caused the streamers to fall to the floor, she cursed. An older woman narrowed her eyes at her, and she groaned in response.
To say she was Princess Penelope's lackey would have been a compliment. Instead, she'd been reduced to a personal slave, forced to do the dirty work of the witch and her stupid popular friends. Which was why she was on a dirty bus from the club Klondike was renting out for Jemma's secret birthday bash. Truthfully, planning a party could have been worse, but Penelope had only given her less than a week to orchestrate the whole thing. And her birthday was conveniently on Valentine's Day. And since Jemma hated that, Penelope told herâthreatened herânot to have anything that resembled the holiday for the party. Which was just a little bit difficult since every store in the Goddamned universe insisted on exclusively selling red and pink party décor!
There was so much to be frustrated about that Chara didn't know where to start, or where to even end. The only consolation in all of this was that Klondike was paying for everything. And to some twisted way, she would feel worse if the universe wasn't inflicting karma on her. If she had to be punished, so be it. All she wanted was for Miren to answer her texts. But for once, she didn't blame her. She didn't know if Miren knew she was indirectly responsible for Penelope's video. Despite that, it still seemed obvious that she had failed her friend. For some reason, she was always failing the people she loved.
"Or maybe it Miren had been completely honest about The Incident, we could have come up with a better plan," she mumbled. There had to be more to that video, and it wasn't fair that Miren kept themâherâin the dark the same way the secret she kept from Wallace was now being used against her by the vampire queen.
She closed her eyes, trying to come to terms with how absurd everything was. But she couldn't. So she took a swig of her 'water' and felt her thoughts become more bearable. The bus called out her stop and she hastily picked up a billion bags before stepping out. As she marched toward the Rosemunde gates, her mind began to sober, as if the reality of this school, what she had done, were some sort of hangover cure. Although she wasn't drunkâno, she was never doing that againâshe instantly had the desire to get back on that bus and go back home. Now she could see why Miren liked running away. It was tempting, especially if you had Miren-sized problems.
"But is she gay too?" Chara considered in a whisper as she wiggled out her access card with her free-ish hand and pressed it against the gate sensor. She pushed it open, letting her mind run like some of the girls on the track field on the other side of campus. Then again, she did make the realization when she was rehab-worthy drunk, and from three-pages of a preteen's diary.
There had to be a journal somewhere, but something told her that finding it would mean enlisting in Artemis' help again. And after lying to her the secret box, it was safe to say that ship had sailed. Artemis had to move on, and she wouldn't be the one to hold her back.
Her phone vibrated repeatedly and another groan rippled out of her throat. When it got out of control, she dumped her bags on the pavement.
Pen-hell-ope: You have better ordered the croquembouche. And send out the fucking E-invites already! And if you bring ANY of your loser friends, your life might get worse. (Devil emojii)
"Like that's possible," Chara mumbled as she walked toward her dormitory. "And what the hell is a croquembouche?"
"It's a French dessert," Olive said, moving from behind her. "It's consists of choux pastry balls pilled up as a cone and bound with threads of caramel." Chara just blinked at her. She smiled earnestly.
"The UK is literally right next to France. Not to mention, Paris is only a two hour train ride from London, and just one hour if you fly," she considered, or perhaps over considered, grabbing one of the bags. "And I'm rich."
"At least you're not a bitch," Chara said, pressing her access card to the dorm door. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"I'm guessing you weren't at the dance or the cafeteria during my little show down with Princess Penelope?" Chara shook her head. She was a little too busy being her slave and wallowing in self-hatred. And she still was, but her mom already gave her a lashing for skipping class, so she no longer had the luxury of hiding. Now she had to seek redemption or something equally difficult and painful.
"Anyway, I'm glad I ran into you. I'm Olive Vishna, and I've been working with Parker to make a documentary about Miren. He said you were her closet friend and I wanted to get some info from you. I could even interview you for the film, if that's okay with you."
Truthfully, it wasn't even remotely okay. But what was more concerning was why she was doing this in the first place. Maybe Penelope's harsh, unforgiving nature was rubbing off on her, but people didn't do good things because they were good. She wrinkled her nose as they walked along the hallway.
"And what about the video Penelope put out? Do you really think Miren is innocent?"
"It's not about what I think, or even if she's innocent." Olive brushed a hand through her shoulder-length hair. "I just get a sense that her story has been seriously misconstrued. Even a monkey could tell that she doctored it to some extent. But instead everyone's completely on her side, if not more oblivious than they were." She shook her head. "It's not right."
"A lot of things aren't right here," Chara assured her. "Although I'm pretty sure I usually offer the wrong advice, I think it's best for you to pick another battle. If you do this, Penelope's just going to find away to ruin you." She lifted her anchor of a bag in the air for emphasis. "I don't know where she got her dirt on me, and something tells me she's playing much nicer than she could be. She's evil and you're probably the most innocent thing here."
"Funny, Parker said something along those lines before requesting that I befriend you." Chara's eye twitched. Could Parker please just stop intruding?
"Well, you don't have an enemy in me. But I can't promise to be friends with you. You're better off buddying up with someone like Artemis," she pursed her lips slightly as she studied the girl. "But something tells me you already got to her."
"Dr. Castro put Jemma in charge of me, and she put Artemis in charge of me," she offered. "And I whilst I won't lie that we are friendly, it is also fair to say our relationship is complicated. With Penelope's video, she's confused. And although I have a journalistic obligation to tell Miren's story, I can tell she's just as concerned as you are." Chara opened her door and she set the bag down on her desk. "But I'm not trying to stir trouble. Nor am I trying to pry were I shouldn't. I just want to know the truth about Miren and Penelope's relationship, why everything got blown out of proportion. There are so many narratives about the "troubled black youth that met their untimely, but probably eventual, demise.'" Her russet eyes lit up. "Help me change that narrative."
Chara looked at her for a while. There was something soul-crushing about her optimism, and because Chara had evolved into a masochist, she found herself nodding, agreeing.
"That being said, I'm not your Holy Grail of answers. I only knew her as a tutor. And if you go too far, I'm out."
"Understood." Olive nodded politely, but it was hard to contain the excitement in her eyes. "And was payment for your cooperation, what would you like from me in return?"
Chara frowned, her expression resembling that of a confused child. Payment? Uselessly she was costing people things. Which is precisely why the bottom of her bag ripped open just then. As a million party favors spilled against the floor, her eyes locked onto Olive's.
"Kill me."