I stabbed the chicken in my bowl miserably, quickly shoving it in my mouth. I knew I probably looked disgusting and lacking in table manners, but I didn't care.

I had always been a fast eater, too fast for my own good, but the thought of sitting it out at the back, alone while cliques chatted around me, their judgeful eyes fell upon me by occasion, especially with the fact that this recess break had the canteen rather empty... all the more, I had developed a sense of urgency to finish up and escape the canteen. Especially after all that fiasco with the Populars. With Natalie and Gillian and Lisa and essentially every person they talked rot to about me.

I wished I was still in primary school, with Nadine and Vanya and Jen, thick as thieves, talking about literally anything and still feeling like it was real. Not just a holographic vision that people could easily punch holes through, like everything this new school was. Now, Silvercreek Girls' School was no longer my second home, and my old clique had moved on, leaving our group chat on Whatsapp dead and me frightened to revive it. They all had their own lives now, and they wouldn't be able to care for mine.

Should've known it was too good to be true.

"Hey! Selene, right?"

I looked up to see that girl I'd seen around, with the floofy short bob and the eyes that sparkled with what was clearly intellectual brainpower. "Yeah! Hi."

"Would you like to sit with me and my friends?"

Wait. Hold on a second.

She wanted to sit with me?

ME?!

"Oh, yeah, sure!" I immediately replied, smiling back at her own small grin. I picked up my food as she led me to the table. "My name's Juliette Quinton, but everyone calls me Julie. It flows much smoother."

"Oh, okay... Julie."

Even despite my awkward attempt, Juliette Quinton's face maintained a perfect saccharine smile as she introduced me to the others and I waved back, still too shy and shocked to process.

We all sat down - and silence.

Just... everyone eating. Quietly. No talk whatsoever.

Normally, I would agree that eating and talking was a bad combination, but school lunches were exceptions. The social scene of school - was it not rooted to the lunch table discussions? Why wasn't anyone talking, why was everyone eating in this deafening silence of doom?

Was it me? Or perhaps, I should initiate a conversation?

Screw it, bad idea, but I was just gonna take a big L anyway.

"What primary schools are you guys from?"

The heads slowly turned to me with stares that I couldn't place.

What?

What did I do wrong?

Julie half-smiled as she began explaining, "Sarah, Louise and I are from Willerton, Abigail's from Southern Creek..."

But all I could notice was that smile, laced with insincerity, and the stares that nodded slightly and monotonously at Julie's words, the stares that seemed to scream a message that I could sense - you don't belong here, Selene Chan.

Leave, before you ruin things all over again.

So what?

Yeah, Ms Woods. So what? I said what I said, okay?

"I've attached some of the good essays from your classmates on Google Classroom," Ms Woods announced, moving her cursor on the computer. We proceeded to watch as Ms Woods fumbled with her millions of open tabs, some people snickering as they watched the rerun episode of Teachers Struggle With Technology. I snickered too, but less happily for sure. I mean, yes, I was going to leave the school and all, and one essay wasn't so important for my end-of-year grade anymore, but I thought my tuxedo-wearing Pooh bear self had jumped out to save the day with astute and well-structured essay answers.

Apparently not. I still didn't know how to PEEL.

But of course, there were people who did, and still managed to use the most flowery of words that apparently increased the intellect of anyone who chanced upon them. I looked up at the screen and scanned the names of the documents.

julietteq.pdf, saraha.pdf, tinal.pdf and many other scanned-in essays, with handwriting ranging from what resembled Arial 11 to messy, strangely-contorted scrawls. "Here we have Julie's - her vocabulary is extensive - Sarah's essay is good too, and Tina's - but Tina, can you please improve your handwriting? The marker won't be able to tell what you're saying if you can't."

The class burst into good-natured laughter as Tina protested, "Actually, I can!"

As Ms Woods mentioned some other students' essays, I sighed at my pathetic just-pass score and checked out Classroom on my own computer. The lot of them had scored supremely high, with the two members of the Intellectuals somehow keeping the perfect sans-serif handwriting throughout the essay, not a single messy quiver in sight. Ridiculous. You were telling me that these people weren't government-sent robots to diminish our self esteem and force us to work harder? Because they definitely weren't human at this rate of success.

No, wait. I'd gone over this before - they were immortals, perhaps vampires. That was why they were always so fit, never got fat, and were telepathically discussing project groupings all the damn time. No joke, they formed groups in 0.1 seconds and all based on slight hand gestures and quick glances.

Yeah, that was it - definitely vampires who'd studied this years before. There was no other way Julie could sit down and say she slept for eight hours every night, no way she could have time to pre-study things, and pre-study for the pre-studies. She was the true vampire-robot, Julie Quinton.

"Now that we're done, we'll be starting the next module - poetry. Can someone help me hand out the poetry booklets?"

As everyone else made noises of distaste towards the thought of the upcoming group presentation slides due, Julie and Sarah volunteered themselves, walking up from their second-row seats to collect the stacks off the teacher's table. Before long, instructions were given, and a set of groupings were on the screen.

I did a quick scan for my name and found it in the third row of grouping - with Annabelle from the K-Pop Kids, Arielle from the Prefects, Sarah... and Julie.

Well, that was both good news and bad news - the plus point being that the submission would be one of quality work with two top-tier Intellectuals at the helm. The negative was that a certain someone was known to go wild whenever a project came up.

My suspicions were confirmed as her predictable behaviour began to manifest once again as the group assembled in the corner of the classroom.

"Should we start by sharing - "

"I already shared the slides," Julie interrupted a horrified Arielle with that curt line, "Y'all can check your emails."

And, indeed, as quick as lightning, we had all received a new shared document owned by Julie, as I clicked into the template, no doubt a fancy one from Slides Carnival, Julie began to chatter away about her Big Plans.

"Okay, so guys, I was thinking we should try our best to complete it over the weekend once all the tests are over so that we don't wait till the last minute and begin rushing. I've already assigned the parts; they are in the slides. Would that be fine with all of you?"

Annabelle seemed both mortified and confused by Julie's efficiency as she said in flustered tones, "But... but isn't the project due next next week? It's just two poems... we have time, don't we?"

"Yeah, Jules," Sarah nudged her, "We have time, there won't be any tests in the upcoming weeks. I love you, but sometimes, you really need to chill."

Wow, bold move.

The next thing that Julie said, though subtle, was a warning that anyone who understood underlying drama could perceive as she looked Sarah in the eye. "I think we should still try to do it ASAP so that we have sufficient time to check through before the final presentation. Also, it's on the schedule that there's a Biology quiz on the due date of this assignment. It may be ungraded, but I think we'd all like to have sufficient time to revise."

Big oof. I thought ungraded quizzes were supposed to be chill... but of course, it's Julie.

Upon hearing the ultimatum, Sarah dropped her head slightly and gulped visibly. Annabelle, Arielle and I just watched the exchange, understanding that Sarah had made a grave mistake in terms of social standing. She questioned her leader's decision - the girl who had control over her social status , the ultimate triad boss of the Intellectuals. The Intellectuals, from what I observed, were free of any emotional attachment and were merely a congregation of bright minds in a partnership to earn good grades together, meaning everything was measured by grades and subservience, yet with a decent level of leadership.

Julie's eyes remained cold, dark and narrowed... but she eventually softened her expression, evidently choosing to provide leeway due to Sarah's higher internal rank and her recent success in getting a mention in class, "Sorry, Sarah. I... I've done the 'intense' thing again, haven't I?"

And there, goody-two-shoes facade again. Oh God, Julie. Just- stop!

"Oh, Julie, it's okay, I know I came off as not taking it seriously, and I'm sorry for that, too," her second-in-command assured, smiling with gratitude upon realising her chance to redeem herself. Arielle added, "Yeah, Julie, it's fine, life tends to get to everyone once in a while. School, specifically." All in the span of a minute, it seemed that a conflict had been resolved - with Julie back into her school project focus mode as we all laughed it off.

Sarah and Annabelle were just fighting for basic human rights - but of course, life is a game of Follow the Leader.

Obedience or suffering.

It wasn't fair. None of it was.

And what annoyed me in particular was how she unsheathed her mask in that moment, and everyone chose to ignore it because she was Julie Quinton. That mask, that veil of perfection was hiding a bitter, overly-competitive, creepy girl, while pretending to be nice and sweet.

Oh, and how she chose to invite me to her table last year, all because she wanted... what? Plus points for being nice to me, a problematic figure, while she and her group dropped all pretense of kindness when my ass was in the chair?

As the project discussions continued, my eyes fell upon Julie - and I decided she was the one.

The next person whose glass throne I'd shatter, the final person before I left the school for good, one final fix.

And I already had one reckless idea about how it'd go down.

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