"Since we were kids." I frowned as memories resurfaced. I tried to ignore the hurt I still felt when I thought of her. "Our mothers were friends in college."

"Exactly," Madison said. "That is why you can help me. You have knowledge, and knowledge is the strongest sword. You know Emma better than anyone. What makes her tick. What secrets she keeps. And if we work together, we can use that knowledge to destroy her."

I shook my head. "No. I don't know her at all. I thought I did, but I don't, not anymore. She's changed too much."

"Maybe," Madison said. "But even if she acts differently now, her past is the same. I'm sure you know things about her that nobody else does. Secrets. Things she wouldn't want anyone else to know. Am I right?"

I thought about it, then nodded. "You are. But so what? Do you expect me to just share those with you? I... That'd make me no better than her."

Madison shrugged. "Fight fire with fire. You know how it is. You can't take down the big dogs without getting your hands dirty." She leaned forward and smiled, reaching out to pat my hand; I moved my hand away. "Uh... if it makes you feel any better, you wouldn't be betraying her. Just getting your due payback. And we'd only use what you tell me to beat her. We wouldn't have to tell her secrets to anyone else, if you're uncomfortable with that."

I didn't say anything. I was interested in her proposal, despite my better judgement, but I just... I couldn't think of anything to say.

I think Madison misinterpreted my silence. She withdrew her hand and looked at me for a moment, then dropped her head. "I'm sorry," she said in a quieter voice.

I went still. I felt the urge to look behind me again, but I didn't. Instead I locked my eyes on her. "For what?" I said. I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from her lips.

"For bullying you," Madison said, head still down. "For being party to their campaign all year. I'm sorry." She looked up. "I want to make things right."

I scoffed. "Sure you do. Don't act like you're here out of the kindness of your heart. You said it yourself: you get Emma's throne. Helping me is a byproduct."

"No," Madison said, meeting my eyes. "I mean it. I like you. I don't want to be part of that stuff anymore, and I don't want you to be their target dummy anymore. Taking Emma's place is secondary to stopping them, not the other way around. I... I know I said I wanted her throne, that that was why I'm doing this, but it's not. I said that because I didn't think you'd believe me if I told you the truth, that I want to make things right. And I'll prove it. I'll do anything you want me to. If you don't want me to take her place, I won't. I swear."

I stared at her. Madison stared back. She... she actually sounded serious. Sincere. I could hardly believe it. Part of me said she was manipulating me. Telling me what I wanted to hear so I'd be more open to her suggestions. I knew I shouldn't believe it.

But I did.

I made myself breathe normally and swallowed past the lump in my throat. "I-I want you to admit it," I said, watching her reactions. "Admit what you did to me, right here, right now. From the beginning. Until I tell you to stop."

Madison tightened her lips and nodded. "I... For the past six months, I have helped Emma Barnes and Sophia Hess bully you." Her voice was quiet, and it wavered, ever so slightly. I wouldn't have noticed if I wasn't looking for it. "I stole your notebooks and got some of the other girls to cover them with insults. I poured juice on your underwear while you were in the shower so you'd have to walk around in them for the rest of the day. I threw your pencil case in the cafeteria trash can. I..."

So Madison went, listing off the things she'd done to me. The more she spoke, the more she seemed to shrink in on herself. I watched her for a sign of falsehood, a sign that she was manipulating me, and I didn't see one. She went on and on and on, bringing up things even I didn't remember. My knuckles were white where they gripped the edges of the table. Listening to this was just reminding me of everything they'd done — everything she'd done. Hearing her admit it all to me actually did make me feel better.

But I could only take it for so long.

"Stop," I gasped.

Madison cut off part-way through her admission to filling my bag with custard and fruit salad during lunch. She looked at me, but didn't say anything.

I was grateful for that. I doubted I'd be able to respond. My hands gripped the table hard enough that my fingers hurt. I bent over the table, letting my hair cover my face, and tried to get a hold of myself. I was not going to cry in front of Madison fucking Clements. I wasn't going to — I wasn't —

I felt arms slide around me from the side, and I realised I'd failed.

* * *

It took a few minutes before I managed to calm down. Madison returned to her seat. And she pretended that that hadn't happened. I was thankful for that too. I don't think I could've coped if she'd acknowledged it.

I sniffled and tried to pretend too. "Why?" I said.

"Um... why what?" Madison said.

"Emma. Why did she turn on me? We — we used to... we used to be so close."

Madison was quiet for a moment. "I don't know. She never said." Madison shifted. "We could find out. If we work together."

"Right, your proposal." I sighed, dropping my head to the table. I felt exhausted. I could barely think right now. I believed her — as bizarre as those words felt — but... "Can I think about it?"

"Of course," Madison said. "Tomorrow, at lunchtime. I'll be on the roof." I heard footsteps, and looked up. The waitress approached. Madison handed her a ten dollar note, then stood up. She looked at me and smiled. "I'll see you then?"

"...Yeah," I said. "Tomorrow."

"Great!" Madison chirped. I watched as she hopped around the table and made her way to the door. "See you tomorrow, Taylor!" she called from the door.

Then she left.

I dropped my head back to the table.

I needed some time to process.

* * *

I stepped off the bus the next day with worry and excitement warring in my mind.

I'd thought about Madison and her offer last night — it had been all I could think about, really. And I'd decided to go. To hear her out. I mean, what idiot wouldn't? She was giving me an opportunity to remove Sophia and Emma from my life. Working with Madison to accomplish that was small potatoes. Why would I not go?

I entered the school. One part of me wanted to go because of the potential gains, despite the potential risks. Another part wanted to go because of the risks — that was the insane, thrill-seeking part I always strived to ignore. And the unsettlingly large sentimental part of me said I should feel sad about showing Emma the proverbial door, that best friend-ship meant something, even if she'd forgotten.

The conscious part of me told that last one to shut up: it had no idea what it was talking about. Emma was a blight. A stupidly beautiful and stupidly painful zit on the face of my stupidly stupid life. Nothing more, nothing less. And now I had a chance to get rid of her. To wipe that smug look off her face when she sees Madison and I standing on the sidelines, waving her goodbye.

Yeah. I'd be stupid not to take this chance. I wanted to take it. Shit, I was going to take it, risks or no.

So why did I feel so apprehensive?

I started when I realised I was sitting in my first period class, with no recollection of how I had got there. I even had a pen in my hand and a notebook open on my desk, though my fingers seemed more interested in tracing the scratches in the wood than taking notes on whatever Mr. Grant was talking about.

I glanced at the clock. Somehow, there was only ten minutes left in class. I let my hand return to its business. I wasn't going to get anything useful out of this anyway.

I suppose... I mean, if I had to make a guess as to why I was so uncertain about this, maybe I was worried about a betrayal. From Madison. That when I went to the roof, Emma and Sophia and their other cronies would jump out from behind the door with party hats and those wheezy thingies and yell "Surprise!" and then beat the hope out of me.

That scenario didn't make sense, no. But the worry itself made no sense. It would be the most elaborate, ridiculous, overcomplicated, ridiculous plan ever conceived. Granted, I wasn't very familiar with Sophia, but I knew exactly what grades Emma had gotten in middle school. They were bad. She wasn't dumb by any means — and now I'm defending her to myself — but she wasn't nearly clever enough to come up with such a convoluted scheme. Nor did she have a reason to. She could get me alone pretty much any... time...

Hold up. Deja vu. I'd had these exact thoughts yesterday.

That wasn't a good sign.

"Taylor?"

I looked up. Mr. Grant stood in front of my desk, fixing up his glasses. I closed my notebook as subtly as I could — no need to let him see exactly how little attention I'd paid.

"The bell's rung, Taylor," Mr. Grant said. "I believe you have a class to get to?"

I looked around. The room was empty.

I blushed. "Uh, right," I said, hurriedly shoving my stuff into my bag — a raggedy old blue thing I'd picked up at the dollar store after my tormentors had ruined my proper bag. I stood up. "Um... see you tomorrow, I guess."

I made my way to the door. "Perhaps," Mr. Grant said from behind me, "you ought to pay a bit more attention in your next class."

I blushed again. I didn't need to turn around to see the look on his face. "Sorry," I said, then left.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Second period wasn't much better, but I managed to focus on the class at least partially. When the bell rang, I grabbed my stuff and headed for the roof.

My worry and anticipation hadn't dulled in any way. I was still torn between panicking about an ambush and sprinting up in excitement. But I forced myself to walk at a sedate, almost leisurely pace. I pretended it was to avoid drawing attention, but really I wanted to prove to myself that I could control my emotions, because fuck me I was a mess today.

The door to the roof wouldn't open. I glanced down the stairwell and, seeing no-one there, knocked on the door. I wasn't sure if Madison would be out there already and responsible for it being locked or if I'd arrived before her, but it didn't hurt to try.

A moment later, the door opened. Madison ushered me outside, locking the door again behind me. It was just one of those twisty knobs. About what I'd come to expect from Winslow security. It looked like a fresh installation.

"Hey, Taylor," Madison said with a smile as she sat cross-legged in the shadows. She already had a lunch box laid out before her. "It's great to see you!"

"Yeah, whatever," I said, walking past her and looking around the corner. The rooftop was empty except for us — unless someone had somehow climbed on top of the stairwell housing. But that was ridiculous.

"There's no-one else here," Madison said. "Just us."

"I know." I hadn't really expected to find anyone else, but checking was just good sense. I looked back at Madison, who was still seated on the rooftop. I sat beside her, but I didn't take my backpack off. "I thought about it," I said, meeting her eyes. "Your proposal."

Madison nodded seriously. It was... cute. Seriousness didn't really fit her general look. "And?"

"I'm interested," I said, affecting a reserved tone. It was pointless — we both knew I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't interested — but it made me feel better about this whole thing. Like I was in control, even if I really wasn't. "But I'm not going to agree to it fully, not yet. First I need to know what your plan actually is. I'm not going to work with you if your attack strategy is based solely around blackmailing Emma with stories from when we were kids. I'd rather deal with Sophia, but I've got nothing on her."

"Right, that's fair," Madison said. "But, um... are you going to eat? It is lunch time."

I glanced down at her lunch box. I was a little surprised she wasn't eating something from the cafeteria. But her lunch all looked meticulously made, her sandwich wrapped delicately in plastic with little triangular edges — nothing like my own scrumpled messes.

"I'll eat later," I said, despite my stomach's objections. There was something about eating in front of her that didn't sit right with me. Like it was somehow a sign of weakness that she'd latch onto and decide that maybe I wasn't suited for her little coup de tat after all. Which was still a niggling thought, even though I believed she was at least a little regretful about bullying me. "Give me an answer first."

"Um, okay," Madison said. "Well... it's probably not going to be a short process, unless we get lucky. But the first step is telling the principal about the bullying. At least Sophia's involvement, and mine. Maybe not Emma's."

I shook my head. "That won't do anything. I've gone to the principal twice already. She's not going to do anything. She doesn't give a shit."

"You went by yourself?"

"Uh... yeah. In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have any friends to stick up for me."

Madison blushed. "Sorry. Um, what'd she say, exactly? The principal?"

"I don't know. Some bullshit about needing proof. I was a little angry."

"Then there's no problem! The issue you had is that there wasn't anyone there with you to corroborate your story, while Emma and Sophia had people to corroborate theirs. But we're going to talk to the principal together, and I'm the best witness you could hope for."

I opened my mouth to reply, but paused when I realised what she'd said. "We're going in together?"

"Of course!" Madison said. "I told you, we need each other for this to work. We'll have to fib a little, exaggerate some of the things Sophia's done, make her sound like a real villain — "

"She is!" I said. Madison glanced at me, surprise plain on her face. My voice may have been a little heated. "You're downplaying this again. But I've been on the receiving end, so you can trust me when I say she is a real villain."

Madison ducked her head. "Right, sorry. I didn't — I didn't mean to, uh... you know." She took a deep breath.

I did too. "It's fine. You were saying?"

"Uh, well..." She shifted. "That's pretty much it. We go in and tell the principal about everything Sophia's done, maybe threaten to go to the police if she doesn't do anything about it herself. And we tell her about my involvement, and — "

"Wait," I said, holding out a hand. "You want to tell her about your part? How is that going to help?"