Miss Pennington,

Arlington misses you dearly, well I think it does at least.

After the summer, your name left everyone's lips. But you're still here, like some sort of ghost. Sometimes I think I actually do see you, it's freaky.

You left your scarf at my house, but it's too bad because I'm keeping it. I'm going to wear it tomorrow, it looks cold.

Tell me what it's like, a million miles from Arlington.

Love, Chloe

My feet were still damp as I propped them gingerly onto the scales. The stubborn digital display hovered around a range of values for a few seconds before deciding on today's number. One and a half pounds higher than yesterday's.

I sighed in frustration, it was probably because I'd been drinking more coffee than usual and eating more from the school canteen. I couldn't afford to slip back up a clothing size again, especially when I was completely aware I was the largest girl at that table yesterday. My stomach looked bloated and pudgy, bringing with it a wave of insecurity.

A murmur from the hallway distracted me from my train of thoughts, and I took a step closer to the fine cracks at the edge of the bathroom door, wrapping a towel around my body in the process.

"Friday?" I heard my mom say. Her voice was barely audible over the whirring of the bathroom fan. "Richard, you know we have dinner with the Thompson's on Thursday night."

There was a pause, and I heard Mom's footsteps navigate up the hall towards my bedroom, probably putting away freshly folded clothes.

"I don't understand why you can't just arrange to attend the meeting online and come home after tomorrow. I swear you spend more time at work than in your own home, and don't even get me started on the example it sets to Chloe-"

Her footsteps accelerated as she walked past the bathroom door again.

"I'm not using her to manipulate you, Richard. It's just..." there was a sigh and a light thud as she closed a door. When she spoke again, her voice was even more difficult to decipher. "I miss you. It's so lonely here and every night I'm just so alone."

My breath hitched in my throat as a hollowness opened deep within my chest. My hands curled into fists around the towel as I heard the unmistakable sound of a muffled sob. As silence prevailed, I could only assume the phone call had ended.

Sometimes I really hated this damn house.

I pulled on the clothes I had allocated for the day, wrapping Monica's navy scarf loosely around my neck and braiding my hair into two neat plaits. Vainly, I found seeking composure in my appearance helped to distract me from the twisting frustration that came with thinking about my parents.

William was picking me up for school. We'd decided it would be easiest, considering I was supposed to help him afterwards anyway. It would only strengthen the illusion of our relationship, so I didn't object. He was idling on my street as I stepped out into the rain, pulling the hood of my coat over my head as I let out a half-hearted yell to my mother that I would see her tonight.

"Morning," he said, with a tone much more perky than the one he usually greeted me with. His knitted sweater looked much more comfortable than the drenched coat I was wearing. I'd only walked twenty or so yards, but it was enough to let the rain seep through to the clothes I wore underneath.

"Hi," I said, taking a deep breath as I tried to slip into character. It was growing harder and harder to separate the two Chloes.

Thankfully, he switched the radio on, allowing my thoughts to drift from the confined space of the car. I wondered how things would be today. Would I be welcome at the table again? Would Claire insist I join her and her friends in math class?

My questions were slowly answered as the morning continued. I gave a publicly flirty farewell to William and headed to class to be enthusiastically greeted by Claire again. I sat with her, while she babbled to me about her Facebook invitation to a party held by a student from Richmond Prep this weekend.

"Anyway, you should totally try and make it," she concluded as the bell that signaled the beginning of lunch chimed. "It will be so much fun."

"I'll check my plans and let you know," I assured her. By check my plans, I meant check if level one would be attending. But with Claire's enthusiasm, I was already suspecting they would be. Why would she be so excited to be attending if Zach wouldn't be there?

"See you later," she said, giving me a wave before taking the arm of a girl she knew in the hallway. She seemed to know everyone.

I went to my locker, dropping my textbooks into the shelf and swapping them for a Michael Kors purse so I could buy a cappuccino. As I closed it, a platinum blonde beauty emerged beside me.

"Hey, Whittaker," she said. Sophie's pale eyes swam with an intense intimidation as they studied my face. My heart stuttered for a second, trying to catch up with what my brain was processing.

"Hi, Sophie," I said, injecting an extra dose of friendly into my voice. "How are you?"

"Just peachy," she said. Her fingers outstretched to caress the material across my chest. "Nice scarf."

My cheeks warmed. Did she know more than she should, or was that supposed to be one of her intimidating double-standard compliments? "Thanks."

"Coming to lunch?" she asked. "I hear Will's saving you a seat again."

"Yeah," I breathed. "That sounds great"

She gave me a smirk before spinning on her heel. I followed her hesitantly, completely aware that she must have some kind of motive behind seeking me out. That, or it was purely a coincidence, and she happened to see me walking by and thought it would make a great opportunity to intimidate me.

"Chloe!" A hand tapped my back before I could process who it was. It was Jack, his jet black hair mussed from the rain. "I was trying to find you."

A sharp cold filled my veins as I looked from him to Sophie. I hadn't considered a situation in which he would be close enough to cause trouble to my plan. He knew too much about me and Monica – it would be so easy to let it slip...

"Coming, Chloe?" Sophie asked, her eyes flitting to assess Jack in the way someone might test as to whether food had gone spoiled.

"Yeah – I just, um, why were you looking for me?" I asked Jack, internally swearing at myself for showing my confliction.

I was wondering if you wanted to eat together... but—"

"Don't you know she has a boyfriend?" Sophie asked, in the most patronizing way possible.

Jack looked at her as if she had just brought a knife to his throat. "Of course I do."

"Then stop being so obsessed with her," she said bluntly. Then she turned to me as if I was her best friend. "Come on, Chlo, I have to talk to Li about an assignment."

I tried to give Jack an apologetic look, guilt creeping over me. His face was hurt, it was obvious. Even for someone so social, he wasn't immune to their taunting.

I followed the shiny near-white hair of Sophie out into the cafeteria, looking carefully over the students who parted for us. They had an awestruck look on their faces as they craned their necks to ogle at the new girl at the table. It made me feel uncomfortable, and I wondered how long it would take to wear off.

William was already waiting with two coffees in his hands. The aroma of the cappuccino he held out to me brought a grateful smile to my lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I couldn't tell if it was part of the act, or a genuine gesture, but it helped calm my nerves a little. It was a small – and probably delusional – reminder that at least someone was there to stop me from being plunged into the depths of level one, only to be sucked into their game. But even then, a dreadful feeling slowly settled in my abdomen.

The idea of having William Bishop on my side was growing much too comfortable with me.

Luckily, my presence was able to be ignored at the table today.

I learned that on Wednesday afternoons Sophie gave her homework answers to Li, and the guys chatted about Tuesday night's football practice. I picked at the salad I'd packed and tried to follow the conversations buzzing around me. But even with my half-hearted efforts, none of them were inviting enough for me to feel like it was okay to participate.

"The Asian girl from tennis was bragging about screwing you this morning," Piers said from across the table, his attention directed towards Max.

Max looked nonchalant. "Which one?"

"The small one, with the big boobs." As if to put across his point, Piers cupped the air in front of him, causing Maddy beside him to screw up her nose in disgust.

Max responded in a snort. "Haven't done her."

"Haven't you?" Zach asked, "You've done about everyone else on the tennis team."

Raising a brow at him, Max gave his best friend a challenging look. "You jealous, bro?"

Zach laughed, his amusement accompanying the others around him. I recalled Claire's crush on him, and wondered if she'd still like him if she knew how casually he and his friends talked about sex.

"Still on for tonight?" Will asked, pulling me from my eavesdropping.

"Yep," I said. Then I winced a little at my next words, the silly decision that was challenging the security of my leverage. "I've got my laptop with me. With stuff that could help you."

"Great," he said. I realized that his change in composure today probably came from his faith in my ability to fix the mess I'd uncovered with his family. He trusted me too much for his own good.

The rest of the school day vanished quickly, leaving in its wake a trail of homework and due dates which whirred around in my mind. For some reason, all I could think of was Monica and the way she hated the rain as it slammed down on the stained glass windows fitted in Arlington's main building.

I met William again, and we drew the same attention we had these last few afternoons. I wondered how long we could keep our relationship up by just hanging out together wherever possible. At the moment, it seemed to satisfy Arlington's gossip mill, but I could almost hear the questioning whispers. Couples here generally moved fast, and the closest we'd come to PDA was a hand on the back.

Will must have assessed my mood, because he held the door open for me to get into the car, and then turned down the volume dial on the radio. "Is everything okay?"

I nodded immediately, not sure how to pinpoint what exactly it was that was bringing my mood down. Maybe my mother's pleas to my father on the phone that morning, or the way Sophie had treated Jack in the hall. The memories of Monica didn't help, I was missing her more and more with every slash of the windscreen wiper across my vision.

"How well did you know Mon?" I asked, my voice hesitant in the space between us.

William paused. "I think I knew her relatively well. For the short time I actually knew her."

I was quiet, hoping he'd elaborate. It was a delicate subject for so many reasons, I felt like pushing it too much could break the fragile bond William and I had developed, the safe-zone over our different perspectives of level one.

"She was too good to be falling over Lola's feet," he said after a few long moments, carefully navigated afterschool traffic. "I tried to look out for her when I could... but, she liked trouble."

She sure did.

"She can be impulsive," I said in agreement. "Reckless."

He gave me a funny look, as if I were a confused wild animal who'd just strolled into his car. I sat there observing him, waiting for him to say more, but all that stretched on was silence, and wild weather warnings murmuring from the radio speakers.

William navigated the car through tall gates of his home which opened on command. The Bishop house was just about as large and extravagant as I'd imagined, its garden blooming in roses, their petals glistening with drops of rain.

"Is anyone home?" I asked curiously.

William shook his head. "Mom's in New York visiting my sister, Dad won't be home until six."

That was convenient, considering I held information which could bring down his family's reputation fast. I had a feeling if they knew me, they wouldn't be my greatest fan, and not just because I didn't carry a famous last name or an inheritance as large as William's.

The house, though large and modern, carried an antique feel on the inside. It was clear his family had an interest in preserving furniture. That, or their interior decorator was good at pulling off classical furniture gilded in gold and plush fabric.

"Not to be that kind of person, but could you take your shoes off? Mom just had the whole carpet re-done and she'd kill me if I was responsible for ruining it already," Will said, tossing his keys onto a counter top in what I assumed to be his lounge room. Or at least one of them.

I complied, slipping off my boots and placing them on the shoe rack by the door.

"Want anything to eat or drink?" he asked. It felt awkward, like he wasn't quite sure what level of friendship we were on. When I went to Monica's house, I wouldn't hesitate to help myself to the fridge or kick my shoes off at the door.

"I'm fine," I said.

He nodded, readjusting the position of his backpack over his shoulder. "Okay, well, I have access to most documents on my computer, Dad's always trying to get me enthusiastic about the company. I really don't want to get him involved, so we should, uh, do it up there."

"Okay." My cheeks reddened.

He led me up a staircase and down a hall. As we walked past a row of doors, I couldn't help but peek inside those that were askew. We passed a sitting room, a huge marble bathroom and what looked like a girl's room from the tones of pink. It was possibly his sister's. I knew she was studying at Yale, having graduated over a year ago.

William's bedroom was pretty much exactly what I'd imagined it to be. One wall was dedicated to shelves clustered with trophies, ranging from what looked like basketball to swimming. Against another wall was a large desk, decked with history text books and stationary. His bed was made with a plush beige quilt and fluffy brown blankets, leading me to wonder how he even crawled into the thing.

Then I was picturing William Bishop in bed. Gross.

Well, kind of gross. Also hot. But also incredibly inappropriate. I internally slapped some sense into my hormonal self.

Will tossed his bag into the corner and moved to the desk, pushing the wheeled chair out of the way and switching on his computer. It was sort of like my Dad's, expensive looking and intimidating.

I set my bag on the floor and pulled out my own laptop, which had weighed me down all day, both from its size and from the information stored inside.

"So it's not obvious in any publically shared financial reports, I had a good look last night. It's probably the ones designed for internal management that you want a closer look at," I explained. I tucked my hair behind my ears and sat down on the desk chair, as if clearing my vision would help clear my mind. Though I had things from my Dad's perspective, helping William work out what had happened on the inside was another story.

And then the moral issues came. What we were dealing with was very illegal, and very well hidden. Would William want to protect it? Bishop Enterprise was dodgy, and by manipulating the system they were scamming money they weren't entitled to. And it was likely that by being dragged into it through William, I was going to have to help them keep it a secret.

"This is it," he said, entering a few passwords and accessing a drive, one I assumed was shared between his family. It was filled with documents, all with detailed titles. Will gave me a cautious glance. "I'm watching you, Whittaker."

"I've already accessed all I need," was all I said as I walked over to look at his screen, propping my laptop up beside it.

"You know, I still don't know why you needed blackmail."

"What, I could have just asked you?" I raised a brow, my eyes scanning through all kinds of financial reports Bishop Enterprise had prepared.

I saw him purse his lips in my peripheral vision, which brought with it another thought. A trivial one, but still an important one nonetheless. "Did you know that Lola said to me she slept with you?"

I reached forward to scroll along the mouse-pad, searching for the range of dates I was looking for. It was likely that others were manipulated, but if I could show him what to look for with the example I had then he could search all he wanted from there.

"I didn't realize she'd be so open about it."

My attention instantly dropped from my task and flipped to William, whose face was unreadable as he fiddled with a picture frame hanging on his wall. "What?"

He frowned, before turning away and starting to pace. He shrugged off his blazer, tossing it onto his bed.

"I didn't think it was true," I mused. Half of me was pissed off that I didn't already know about it, and the other half was disappointed, hoping I could continue to deny the allegation in my mind.

"I didn't think it was much of your business, but I guess it is." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because she'll probably make your life hell for it, being my girlfriend and all."

My cheeks flamed, my heart beating heavily in surprise. "Was it serious between you?"

"As serious as it could be, I guess."

"You mean, considering she has a boyfriend?"

"You don't know the dynamics between Lola and Franc," he explained.

I didn't know why I was so worked up, but the subject had me feeling hot all over despite the sheets of rain falling against Will's window outside. "When did this happen?"

He shrugged.

"Oh no," I groaned. "Lola was who Sophie was talking about at Jermaine's."

How had I not figured this out earlier?

"It was last year, and it isn't something that's even worth talking about now," he said, his voice stiff with tension as he sat down on the bed. "Can you just focus on the documents, please?"

The sooner I had this done, the sooner I could get out of here. I clenched my teeth, and landed one the dates I was looking for. I opened up a detailed spreadsheet, which was locked with a password. I looked to him expectantly, and without a word he leant in front of me and began typing random codes in. None of them were working.

If Lola and William were ever a thing, that put a pretty huge target on my back. Did William realize that? Surely he wouldn't be oblivious to the position he'd put me in?

"Did you agree to make her jealous?" I blurted, the question squirming around in my mind, demanding an answer. Maybe William was benefiting from our façade too. Especially if he knew I had bad intentions. What was wrong with him having some too?

He hesitated, and I thought he might have been busy thinking of different passwords to try. His voice was close to my ear when he did finally speak.

"Let's just say you're not the only one with a chip in their shoulder when it comes to Lola Davenport."