Furniture had been pushed back to leave room for dancing, and I was sure the most fragile of the Rutherfords’ valuables had been moved to another floor. The kitchen had turned into a full-fledged bar, different spirits lining the table and large containers spilling with ice holding what looked like bottles of champagne.
“Come on, Chlo, let’s get you a drink,” Jack said, grabbing my shoulders excitedly.
“A drink sounds great,” I said, injecting my voice with equal enthusiasm.
“A shot,” he persisted as he led me to the large bottle of vodka.
The others had already been absorbed into the crowd. There must have been hundreds of people on the ground floor, and I recognized only a few of them. My task was becoming daunting.
Jack pressed the shot glass into my fingers and before I knew it he was counting down from three and the burning liquid was making its way down my throat.
“One for the road?” he asked as he turned away again to grab two paper cups.
“I’ll just have a soda,” I said quickly, my tongue desperate for something to remove the alcoholic tang from my lips. I shouldn’t be drinking anyway, not if I was here for Monica.
“Are you serious?” he asked, laughing in amusement. “Come on, it’s your first party, right? You have to let loose a little.”
I shrugged and filled my cup, sipping it tentatively as I surveyed my surroundings. I’d have to break away from Jack soon if I wanted to find my targets. If he was with me, he could easily get suspicious. Not to mention, a Level One would never be seen with a scholarship kid like Jack.
“You know, I always saw you as the quiet one,” Jack mused. “Something tells me things have changed.”
I didn’t know whether to feel insulted. “What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know. The way you’re dressing, and the fact that you’re even here to begin with. It’s like you’re finally done blending into the background.” He leaned back against the wall and observed me.
Over the course of the summer I’d gone from the awkward girl with bony legs and mousy hair to someone who dived into her allowance for designer clothes and makeup. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about my appearance before, I just never really tried. I could tell it was working in my favor too. I hadn’t missed the lingering glances and double takes when I stood by my locker. My physics teacher since junior year had even questioned who I was when I went to sit down in class.
But even so, I knew that alone wouldn’t be enough to crawl onto the radar of Level One.
Which is why I was going to use someone else.
“Maybe I never belonged in the background,” I murmured, playing the role I’d cast for myself: the ruthless girl ready for her turn in the spotlight.
“Maybe you didn’t,” Jack agreed. His dark eyes lingered on mine.
I gave him a confident smile. “I’m going to find a bathroom. I’ll catch up with you later?”
I sensed Jack’s surprise, but his expression didn’t falter. “Sure thing.”
Before I could find an excuse to chicken out, I dived into the crowd, finding enough space to maneuver to the staircase. It was dotted with people sitting, some on others’ laps and some looking as if they were already close to passing out. I ascended, knowing that the crowd I was looking for wouldn’t be lingering with the commoners down here.
I found twenty or thirty people on the large balcony overlooking the well-tended backyard. I recognized them instantly: Sophie clad in a sparkly dress and draped on a banana lounge and Lola and Francis making out on a nearby love seat. William and Zach were standing against the railing, consumed by laughter.
Others who seemed vaguely familiar from lacrosse games and interschool events had also made the cut. Everyone was beautiful and poised compared to the drunken teenagers downstairs. Confidence seemed to seep through the open sliding door.
How do I get in there? How can I break into their circle after seeing the damage they can do?
I took a step back, stumbling on my heels. I knew that behind the veil they cast they were ordinary, nothing truly worthy of being admired or worshipped. But I also knew they were dangerous, and one wrong step would leave me vulnerable.
If I wanted to get near enough to find my evidence, I couldn’t waste time floating on the sidelines. I needed to confront William Bishop and I needed to do it now.
I let my gaze linger on William, taking in his carefree posture as he spoke with his friend, an easy smile playing on his lips. Zach slapped him on the back, motioning to his cup and indicating he needed a refill, leaving William alone. My in. I let one final wave of fear pass over me before straightening. I needed to play the part.
I pushed my shoulders back and plastered a smirk upon my lips. One foot in front of the other, I told myself. Act like you’re supposed to be here.
“William Bishop?” I asked once I was in earshot.
Everyone knew that people like William belonged in fashion campaigns, not in high school. An assortment of optimized genetics and a knack for every sport the school had to offer gave him a frame to be pined over and a smile that stopped hearts.
He turned around, looking bored as his eyes traced me up and down. “And who are you?”
“My name’s Chloe Whittaker,” I said, trying to make sure to breathe normally. “And you’re about to know me very well.”
William straightened, intrigued. “And why is that, Chloe Whittaker?”
My lips curled as I tried to sound confident. “Would you like to find out?”
“I would.”
“Well, maybe it’s a private matter.” I let my eyes dart to the crowd of people surrounding us. “Here’s a little too . . . public.”
William raised his eyebrows. “You think you can seduce me that easily, huh?”
His jaw pulsed, and I realized he was observing me with curiosity rather than lust, which hadn’t been my initial goal. I’d expected to capture his romantic interest and lead him away from the throng of the party, but maybe that wasn’t as easy as I’d imagined. I’d have to lure him away in a more forward manner.
I narrowed my eyes, placing a hand to my hip. “Who says I want to seduce you?”
His lips found a half smile. “And now you’re playing games with me. Drop it, pretty. You won’t like it when I win.”
“Funny. Because, I don’t know that it’s possible for you to win.”
He moved his head to the side curiously and took a step closer. “And why is that?”
I took a step forward so I could lean up and meet his ear. To everyone else, we undoubtedly looked like we were flirting.
“I came across some fascinating business undertaken by our trusted mayor. Planting weaknesses in his opposition’s campaign. Bribery upon bribery. Pity if it landed with law enforcement.”
“Huh,” he said after a moment. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “I doubt you even know what you’re talking about.”
I pulled out my phone. I’d anticipated this. Locked behind a passcode in my camera roll was a screenshot of one of the highly confidential emails. Charles Bishop and the assistant of his opposition ensuring Charles would have an easy win when he ran for mayor last election. And those were just a few of his crimes.