Turnabout Confusion
by Dennis

Part II: All the King's Horses

Monday

Later on, Daria decided it was appropriate, given how many tears were shed before the end, that it all began in tears as well—Brittany's tears to be exact. It was Daria herself who came upon Brittany sobbing her eyes out in an in empty classroom on an otherwise quiet Monday morning two months after that fateful confrontation-filled Friday.

"Brittany," she said, with some hesitation. Daria was not generally comfortable around emotions, other people's or her own, but Brittany was good people, or at least not bad people, which counted for a lot in Lawndale High these days. Besides, she and Quinn had talked about Brittany as a possible wedge.

"Oh, Daria," Brittany said and threw herself on the other girl with a fresh storm of weeping.

Daria, unaccustomed to being used as a human handkerchief, took a minute to find her voice again. "Uh, what's the matter?" she said, trying for and failing at a sympathetic tone.

A flow of unintelligible verbiage and more tears greeted the question. Daria let the storm continue for another minute or two before putting an end to it. Empathy's not my thing, but short, sharp shocks? That I can I do.

"Brittany," she barked, "Pull yourself together and tell me what happened."

The tears dried up, and Brittany let go of Daria. "I can't believe," she started to say, shooting the other girl a shocked, angry look.

"I can't help you," Daria interrupted, unperturbed, "if I don't know what's wrong."

Tears began to well in Brittany's eyes again, but she mastered herself enough to reply. "I'm not c-c-captain of the squad, anymore." A sob wracked her body and she bit back more. "Dawn threw me off."

"Threw you off? You're still wearing the uniform."

"Only f-f-for today," Brittany squeaked. "Dawn says if I don't turn it all my stuff t-t-tomorrow morning, she'll make sure I get d-d-dentention." With that, Brittany dropped to the floor, the dam breaking anew.

Daria patted Brittany awkwardly on the head, muttering nonsense. Inside, Daria's mind was seething. Okay, gotta find someone to calm Brittany down. And gotta let Quinn know. And she's not going to want to wait until the end of the day.

"Listen, Brittany," she finally said. "Can you stay here until homeroom? I'll see if I can find Jodie for you."

Brittany, still weeping, but more quietly, nodded.

"Good," Daria said and sped from the room, mind divided. Part of her was annoyed that her morning had been interrupted, and part of her was angry enough to break Dawn's jaw. But underneath that, an unaccustomed excitement was rising. Dawn bringing down Brittany was exactly the sort of change they were waiting for. Change brings opportunity, and this might be ours, Daria thought as she scanned the halls for Jodie.

* * *

For Dawn, it was just another bright Monday. Everything was wonderful in her world. True, dispensing with Brittany had shown a little bit more of the iron fist than she might otherwise wish—she preferred, where possible, to show only the velvet glove—but Brittany was not someone she could readily control. Dawn didn't like things or people she couldn't control. Besides, breaking Brittany had been fun, and there was no one to challenge her anyway.

Angie, joining her at her locker disagreed. "I don't think that was a good idea, Dawn."

"What? The lip gloss? I'll be back to raspberry tomorrow." Dawn gave Angie a glib smile.

"Wow, you're wearing a new color today? I didn't even notice. Let me...." As she started to lean in to better see Dawn's lips and the purported new gloss, Angie suddenly frowned. "Wait a minute," she said in an accusatory tone. "That's not what I was talking about. I was talking about Brittany."

Dawn sighed. Angie was often dumb enough to be diverted by simple tricks, but every so often her mind would jump back on the rails. "What about Brittany?" she said, allowing a slight edge to creep into her voice.

"Well, don't you think she was a useful, you know, thing you put out front?" Angie asked, pretty face twisted with the unaccustomed effort of thought.

"Figurehead?"

Angie nodded, relieved.

"No," Dawn snapped. "That was the entire point. Brittany is not a good figurehead because she doesn't take orders. She's too dumb to listen and to nice too everyone to be really effective."

"Oh." Sudden understanding caused Angie to draw out the syllable. "So you're not going to bother with a figure-thingy."

"No," Dawn nodded emphatically. "If Brittany could do it, fine. But I'm not going to bother setting up someone else. I'm in charge, so let everyone can see I'm in charge." She turned at the sound of a step behind them. "Right Zoe?"

Zoe, under the sudden force of Dawn's attention, was forced to nod. "Right, Dawn."

Angie, hearing confirmation, looked relieved. Zoe, under Dawn's eye, as she'd been for the last two months, looked resigned. Dawn, seeing both expressions, looked pleased. That's right, Zoe. I'll keep you right under my thumb. And if you can't enjoy my ascension, well, I'll enjoy your suffering.

Together, the three girls headed off to class.

* * *

Brittany's sudden expulsion from the cheerleading team was the talk of the school by second period—even those who didn't expect to profit from it were lining up to enjoy the show, with only a few exceptions. Taylor was one of those exceptions. He regarded the machinations of the popularity game with a very jaundiced eye, having gained little from trying to game the system, and even less from trying to live within it. Sure, very little of the mud from a couple of months before had spattered him, and he could have maintained a solid level of popularity with little difficulty, but since his ill-fated liaison with Daria, he'd simply dropped out. His sole interest became getting decent grades so he could leave high school, and Lawndale, far behind.

A flash of green drew his eye involuntarily. He thought it might be Daria and for a long second his heart burned with the need to follow her, but he let the feeling pass. No hope there. His mind went back to her words on that fateful Friday. "I will never, ever forgive you," she'd said, and if he hadn't known Daria well, he'd known her enough to see that she only said what she meant.

With a certain black humor, he thought of the play at whose auditions they'd first spoken. The Lion in Winter had been an unmitigated disaster. Daria had been cast as Eleanor, but had dropped out on the very day she'd been cast. He'd chosen to stick it out, but his mind and heart hadn't been in it, especially since one of the cheerleaders—not Zoe, thank God—had been forced into the role to replace Daria. Adrian hadn't been able to remember any of her lines, and the school had a disaster to match Quinn's legendary turn in The Canterbury Tales, if without the food fight. I'll bet that was a learning experience for Dawn, he thought. Li's perfectly willing to let cliques dominate the students, but she expects obedience in turn. And she's got a far fouler sense of humor than even Dawn.

As he reached his locker, a squeaky male voice assaulted his ears. "Hey, Taylor," Corey said, his usual smirk firmly in place. Taylor ignored him.

"What's the matter, man? I thought you'd be excited. This has got to be the first time someone's spoken to you in a month." Corey's smirk grew even more unpleasant. He'd undergone a significant rise on the food chain, thanks to his dimness and his willingness to do anything to curry favor with Dawn or Skylar.

"Nope," Taylor shrugged, as he opened his locker and grabbed some books. "I'm comfortable with my social leprosy. Too comfortable, or I never would have left the bell in my locker after homeroom."

"Pity," said Corey. "After all, there are probably going to be some spaces opening up in the inner circle, what with Brittany taking the tumble."

"What''s that got to do with you, moron?" Taylor closed his locker. "Or are you planning on going out for the squad?" The though of Corey decked out in yellow and blue brought a chuckle to Taylor's lips.

"Ha, ha," Corey said. "If Dawn's pushing Brittany out, there's going to be major shakeups all over the school. A guy with an in could do well." He leered and made to nudge Taylor with an elbow. "Move up the class of girls he nails."

Taylor, having none of it, grabbed Corey's elbow and swung him around. "Look, idiot," he snapped, "Dawn dumping Brittany just means Dawn wants all the spotlight for herself. If you want to stick you neck out, fine. I'll enjoy watching you get your head handed to you. But you're beginning to piss me off," he gritted, the words coming through clenched teeth. "And you don't want to do that. Let's see you crawl in and out of the cheerleaders' beds with two broken legs."

"Fine," Corey snapped, pulling out of Taylor's grasp, and in doing so, banging his elbow against the wall of lockers. "You try to do a guy a favor," he said, rubbing his injured arm, "extend a hand—"

A feral grin lit Taylor's features. "Extend me another hand, and I'll bite it off."

Unsettled, Corey walked off a little hastily. Taylor had no soon settled into his peaceful isolation when a voice broke through. "Thanks for the show," it said in a rough growl.

Taylor whirled around to find Andrea leaning against the lockers behind him, as the halls quickly emptied. "What do you want?" he snapped.

"Nothing," she said, cracking the knuckles of one fishnetted hand. "Just surprised you had so much to say."

"I could say the same about you," he retorted, suddenly curious. Andrea never talked to anyone except the blond burnout, and occasionally another goth girl, a redhead one.

"Yeah, well," she said, "I usually don't have anything to say. But this time I have a word to the wise, if you'll take it."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"The dumbass was right about one thing," she said, leaning in and lowering her voice. "Brittany getting dropped is a big deal. Dawn may not think so, but I'll bet a year's supply of black eyeliner that a shakeup is coming."

"And you know this because?" he said, doubt etching his voice. "You're not part of any clique."

"Gives me lots of time to watch," she replied, unruffled. "A lot of people don't like the shit Dawn pulled, and now she's put herself out in the open. I'd be shocked if someone doesn't try to take her down. And if that someone has someone smart on her side, she just might do it."

"Who?" he asked, in a whisper, as suspicion rose within him.

"Sorry, Giggles," she said. "You don't get that. Not yet, anyway."

Before he could say another word, she was gone.

* * *

Mack knew he needed some quiet time to talk to Jodie, and third period Econ seemed like the best time to get it. Not in the class, of course—even with Mrs. Bennett lecturing, too many of their classmates would be listening in on their classmates, whether for advantage in popularity politics or out of sheer mischief. He gave Jodie their signal for "escape together," and then asked for a bathroom pass. A bored Mrs. Bennett gave it to him no problem.

Instead of making his way to the Men's Room, though, he found his way to an empty classroom, where he was joined by Jodie a couple of minutes later. Mrs. Bennett was known for being lax about the four-minute time limit for hall passes, something that couldn't be said of, say, Mr. Demartino.

Jodie wore a curious look as she entered. "What's up, Mack?" she asked without preamble.

"Just wanted to talk about... things." Now that they were together, he found himself reluctant to get to the meat of the matter.

"What things?" Jodie asked. Her Type A personality made her uncomfortable with waffling.

"You know, things. Stuff. Like Brittany getting kicked off the cheerleading squad. That was really nice of you to comfort her." Even to his own ears, he sounded inane.

Jodie sighed, impatience in every line of her body. "I'll been taking care of Brittany for years. Besides, it was Daria that tipped me off, this time, so if you want to thank someone, thank Daria. She needs it more than I do, anyway."

"Yeah, Daria." Mack nodded. "That's sort of what I wanted to talk about, too." Come on, Mack. If you waffle any more, you could open a breakfast place.

Jodie, expression fairly screaming, 'I thought so,' nodded. "Let me guess. You're uncomfortable getting involved in popularity games. Our respective positions and our skin color have protected us from the worst of it, provided we stayed out of it, and you're not sure it's worth tossing that away to get mixed up in this."

A pause followed Jodie's words. "Something like that," Mack finally said, a little sulky. Or exactly like that. How does she do that to me?

"We did talk about this," Jodie's tone was reproving, "when Daria and Quinn recruited us last month. We both thought it was a good idea."

"Yeah, well, I was a little madder, then, and more willing to listen. But now, with Brittany going down, I'm pretty sure Quinn's going to move this week, and I'm not so sure it's worth it anymore. In the end, it's just more popularity games. The Fashion Club puts one over on the cheerleaders, and Quinn puts one over on Sandi. Why should we involve ourselves in this?"

"That's not what we're getting involved in, Mack," Jodie said, a little sharply. "Remember, Quinn said she's out to break Lawndale's clique system, and that is something that's worth getting our hands dirty."

"You're right, Jodie," he said, keeping his voice even. "Breaking the whole rancid system would make things better for everyone, but is that what we'll be doing?" He caught her eye and held it. "I mean, when have you ever known Quinn Morgendorffer to keep her word? I've had time to think about it, and I don't want to be used as a pawn in someone's power play. We both know that being a black kid at a nearly all-white high school is tough enough without going out of your way to make enemies. I'd rather not do it to ensure that a redheaded popularity freak will have an endless supply of diet sodas with crushed ice for the rest of her high school years."

This time it was Jodie's turn for a long silence. As she lowered her head to think, a small smile crept onto her face. It wasn't a happy smile, but it was an understanding one, acknowledging this shared reality that only they understood. It stayed there as she looked up to meet his face anew. "I understand, Mack," she said, voice soft. "I don't want to be played for a fool either, but you have to remember, we're not trusting Quinn."

"Oh?"

"We're trusting Daria. And that's something I think we can both do."

Mack nodded, after a moment. "I think you're right. Daria's not going to let herself, or us, be used by Quinn." With a smile of his own, he added, "Thanks. I feel better about this now."

"Good," Jodie said, and slid her arms around his neck as she lowered her voice, seductively. "You have anywhere to be for the next little while?"

"Can't think of any," he said and leaned forward. "Anything you'd like to do?"

"Oh, I'll think of something," she said and pressed her lips to his.

* * *

Sandi contemplated her situation with a degree of vexation. This was nothing new. She'd spent the last two months in a constant state of vexation, since Quinn's little gambit had gone so disastrously wrong. Today, however, had added to her omnipresent irritation; she knew that Dawn's move against Brittany might provide an opening for her, but she had no idea how to exploit it. And for someone who'd made her high school career on exploiting the weaknesses of others, such an admission was a really good reason for vexation, irritation, annoyance—in fact, any negative emotion up to and including homicidal rage.

Quinn. Fucking Quinn, she snarled mentally. Stick me in this mess. I hope you burn.

Her mood was not improved by the approach of the other Clubbies. Tiffany's utter vapidity was no use to her in the current situation, and Kelly's mere presence was a constant irritation—a reminder that Sandi Griffin was no longer the top of the heap, that she danced to someone else's tune. Consequently, she didn't bother to greet them when they arrived at her locker.

"Hey, Sandi," Kelly asked, not catching, or just ignoring, the cold shoulder. "What're we gonna do about Brittany?"

"What about Brittany?" Tiffany asked, and Kelly attempted to explain. Sandi ignored them both, hoping the diversion would allow her to escape, but no such luck. As she turned to go, Kelly met her eye with a challenging stare. "Well?"

"Well, what?" Sandi snapped. She didn't like discussing plans with Kelly. After all, Dawn had put her in the Fashion Club, not Sandi, and Sandi deeply hated the idea of having minions with divided loyalties.

"What are you going to do about Brittany?"

"There's nothing to do about Brittany, Kelly dear." Sandi used her faux friendly tone. "Dawn's taken care of it."

"And opened herself up." The other girl's response was quick. "There's all sorts of things we could do."

Sandi affected puzzlement "Why should we do anything?" And more importantly, why would I tell you about it, when I know you'll run right to Dawn?

The other girl seemed to deflate. "Whatever," she said with a shrug and disappeared. Tiffany followed moments later. Sandi herself was about to go when a familiar voice sounded behind her.

"Quite an interesting conversation," said Stacy Rowe, a neutral expression on her face.

"Eavesdropping, Stacy?" Sandi said. "That's a nasty habit."

"I've got lots of bad habits," Stacy said matter-of-factly. "Some good ones, too."

"Not to seem rude," Sandi's tone belied her words, "but we've got less than a minute to get to class and you haven't said word one to me in two months. What do you want?"

"To mend some fences," Stacy said. "Dates have been pretty thin on the ground since I left the Fashion Club."

"Left?" Sandi quirked an eyebrow.

"Left, got kicked out. It's all the same. I was mad for awhile, but I've calmed down. The old order came down and I was one of the casualties. I don't have any hard feelings." To Sandi's ears, Stacy hardly sounded like the same girl. She still had the pigtails, but they were hard to reconcile with the world-weary cynicism in her words. "But I don't like being stuck on the outside. I don't expect to be back in the Fashion Club, but I want to be useful. If I'm back under your wing, and you're still under Dawn's, I'm back in the food chain." With a wistful sigh, she added, "I know it really doesn't mean shit, but I miss being popular."

The wheels in Sandi's mind began to turn, and she regarded Stacy carefully. A tool to my hand just when I need one. She might be a thin reed, but she's smarter than Tiff and more loyal than Kelly. I might be able to do something with this. "I'll have to think about this, Stacy, but I'm certainly interested. Who knows?" she added with a predatory smile. "There might be room in the Fashion Club soon." She strode off as the bell rang.

Stacy watched her retreating form for a long moment. "I hope this is worth it," she whispered, almost like a prayer. Then she too headed off, to a class she was already late for.

* * *

Meanwhile, the young lady in the center of the spiderweb was finding her perch less than pleasant. Quinn sat at an empty lunch table in the corner, as she had for the past two months, but no one was really alone when they had a full-blown moral crisis to keep them company.

Quinn knew that Brittany was the key she was waiting for to put her plan—well, ostensibly the plan belonged to both Morgendorffer sisters, but in reality, Daria deferred to Quinn's intimate knowledge of popularity politics more often than not—into effect. In point of fact, Quinn hadn't known beforehand that Brittany would be the tool that would fall to her hand, but she'd had enough suspicions that when Daria managed to get the word to her, she wasn't surprised. Nor was she surprised that Brittany's sudden fall was the talk of every class.

The problem was that now that Brittany was on the chessboard, Quinn was suddenly reluctant to play her. After all, Brittany was goodhearted, if a little stupid, and would likely end up getting hurt again as the game played out. Of course, they'd probably all get hurt, since taking not only Dawn, but the whole system down was not going to be easy. But unlike the others, Brittany hadn't volunteered, nor would she be able to.

Of course, events don't always take internal conflicts into account, and so it was that a red-eyed Brittany appeared, suddenly hovering over Quinn. The blonde's normally bubbly squeak was reduced to a raspy whisper, as she confronted the redhead. "How do you do it?" she asked.

"Do what?" Quinn asked, intrigued.

"Hold your head up," Brittany said, as she took the seat next to Quinn. "Survive not being popular." Her voice, already ravaged by crying, seemed on the verge of cracking again. "I'm not a cheerleader anymore. I'm not going to be popular anymore. I might even lose Kevvy. What I am going to do?" The last word ended on a plaintive wail, as Brittany buried her face in her hands.

Look on the bright side. You'll be rid of Kevin. That's one benefit. Quinn could almost feel the words hitting the back of her teeth. I really have been spending too much time with Daria. The sisters were very careful to play up their continued loathing for the last two months, but they'd been thick as thieves when safely within the walls of Morgendorffer Home Base.

"It gets easier," Quinn said, putting an arm around Brittany. "You just have to find other things to care about."

A wet, gurgling sound that might have been the words, "But this is all I care about," emerged from under Brittany's pony tales.

"I know," Quinn said. "It was all I cared about, too. But you can find something else. Why not go out for a team, instead of cheering for them?"

Brittany looked up. Her expression might have been incredulous, except it was still twisted from crying.

"Maybe not," Quinn gave a hollow chuckle. "But we can come up with something."

"We?" Brittany asked, giving Quinn a hopeful look.

"Sure," Quinn said. "I'll be right here whenever you need me." And whenever I need you, she added mentally, with a sigh.

* * *

Seventh-period music was one of the few parts of the day Zoe actually looked forward to. For one thing, she liked music—not as much as she used to like cheerleading, but still it was fun, with all the different sounds they got to listen to. Also, it was an all-grades class, so she didn't have to look at all the same faces of all the same juniors from her other classes. And, best of all, Music was an elective—and Dawn didn't like music.

It was amazing, Zoe reflected as she slid into her seat, just how much influence Dawn wielded over the social scene at Lawndale High. The majority of students—at least among the popular and semipopular—were restricted to dating people within the narrow bands of their social strata. Admittedly, that was how it usually worked, but Dawn had made it official—with lists and records. And if Dawn controlled the in crowd, she dominated the cheerleaders, who she saw as her minions and tools. Getting away from that, even for an hour, was worth whatever the music professor threw at them.

Today's class wasn't a real lecture. Mr. Bell was playing some early twentieth century symphonies. The music gave Zoe the time to think, and to scan the room. She tried to meet the eyes of Brooke, three rows behind her, but the other girl just turned away.

The former social climber had not taken her defeat at the hands of Quinn well. Brooke had missed two weeks of school after that Friday, and when she came back, she seemed like a different person—morbid, antisocial, and buried in a cloud of gloom. If she'd even gone all black, she could have kept some goth chic. As it was, she dressed in dull browns and grays and said little to anyone. If it wasn't for her plummeting grades, Zoe (and many others) would have said she was trying to give Daria Morgendorffer a run for her money.

At the thought of Daria, Zoe felt a familiar stab of guilt. She'd heard from other people—Taylor hadn't said word one to her in two months—that Daria's brief foray into popularity and socialization was long over. If anything, she was more impenetrable than ever. Even Jane Lane, also in this class, her desk in the far corner of the room, no longer hung out with Daria. Thanks to me, Zoe thought harshly. It was Dawn's idea, but I was the one who carried it out.

The music, by Aaron someone—Not Spelling. That's the TV guy. What's the composer's name?—contrasted Zoe's mood. It was surging, triumphant, and she was glum and guilty. All sorts of lives had been torn apart by Dawn's power play. She supposed Quinn had gotten what she deserved—after all, Brooke's savaging had been at Quinn's hands, not Dawn's. But Dawn knew what was going on. We could have stopped it, if Dawn had wanted to, but Brooke was a future obstacle to be taken down now.

And Quinn, Daria, and Brooke weren't the only people hurt. Tori Jericho had taken a big fall, and Stacy Rowe had spent weeks crying around school. Even Sandi and Tiffany had been more miserable lately. And a lot of good guys found their dating opportunities cut, while louses like Skylar Feldman and Bret Strand had the run of the school. Good guys like Taylor. Poor Taylor. I called him my friend, and look what I did to him. Now Brittany Taylor had taken a fall for no reason other than being in Dawn's way. Britt had been a great cheer captain as far as cheering was concerned. But now that the cheer squad was Lawndale High's very own KGB, Brittany was out, and it didn't matter if it broke her heart.

Her mind wandered these unhealthy paths for most of the rest of the class. So many people were miserable because of Dawn, and if she was honest, because of her, too. And she was in it, and couldn't get out. Dawn wouldn't let her quit the cheer squad. If she complained , she knew she was likely to get the "honor and glory of Lawwwwwwwndale High" speech from Li and then get thrown back to Dawn. And Dawn, as Zoe well knew, had ways of making the lives of her fellow cheerleaders miserable.

Maybe it's worth it, Zoe thought. Even if it's only high school politics, it's still about right and wrong. I've been on the side of wrong for too long. Maybe I have to suffer to be on the side of right. But where is the side of right? She let her eyes roam over the room again as she thought. So far as she knew, there was no opposition to Dawn. Even Quinn seemed to have broken. Not that Quinn's ever been on the side of the angels, or the side of anyone who isn't Quinn.

After a moment, her eyes lit on Jane again. True, Jane had overall benefited from the shake-up. She was back on the track team with rising popularity and a really dishy boyfriend. Zoe had tried Evan a time or two, but never kept his eye. But Evan, at least, was honest. Unlike Skylar, Bret, and some of Lawndale's other Don Juans, Evan didn't lie his way into girls' hearts or make promises he had no intention of keeping. And neither, from what little Zoe knew, did Jane—Jane, who had lost her best friend because of Dawn.

An idea suddenly formed in Zoe's mind. She wasn't sure it was a good or productive idea. After all, she and Jane hadn't talked to each other in years, in class or out, even before Zoe had given Jane cause to hate her. Now... Still... if there's an anti-Dawn resistance, Jane will know who's at the center. After all, she's one of the few people who can openly tell Dawn where to shove it.

As the music stopped, Zoe made her decision. When class ended, she grabbed Jane's arm before the lanky girl could leave the room. When Jane whirled with rage in her eyes, Zoe almost gave up then and there, but she steeled herself. "We need to talk," she whispered.

Jane's tone was icy. "You want to let me know which of your internal organs I should pull out first?"

Despite herself, Zoe blanched.

"I know what you did to Daria," Jane grated, "and the only reason I haven't taken your head off is that she asked me not to. But if you think I have to listen to you, you're out of your fucking mind."

"You're right," Zoe said, letting go of Jane's arm. "You have no reason to listen to me. But I have something to ask you."

Jane laughed, a bitter bark. "You're one of Dawn's flunkies. You could ask me the time and I wouldn't tell you." She turned to go.

"Wait!" Zoe cried. "I know what I did was wrong, and I know I can't put it right, but I want to help."

"Help with what?" Jane snapped. Her body vibrated with the need to be gone, but she stayed for a moment nonetheless.

"I want to—" Zoe paused and looked around. Seeing no one in the room, she continued, but in a whisper. "I want to help take down Dawn."

"Take down Dawn?" Jane's voice rose with incredulity, even as Zoe's eyes went round with horror. "You must think I was born yesterday. A cheerleader, in the inner circle of the Pom-Pom Mafia, says she wants to help take down her glorious leader. Tell me another one."

"I'm serious," Zoe hissed. The rational part of her could understand Jane's scorn, but a more elemental part felt anger rising.

"So'm I," Jane said coldly. "You can go back and tell Dawn there's no one trying to take her down."

"Fine," Zoe snapped. "I'll do it myself," she said, and stalked from the room.

Jane watched her go, a suddenly calculating look crossing her face. She wasn't sure what this little tet-a-tet really meant. But she was sure she had to tell Daria and Quinn.

* * *

Anthony DeMartino's eyes moved from face to face around the teacher's lounge table, before finally settling on Ms. Li's. It wasn't often that Li called impromptu staff meetings. Most of her staff meetings were very, very promptu indeed, with a podium set up in the auditorium and at least an hour long speech to be heard. This time, however, all the teachers had gotten a note asking them to be in the lounge at 4:30. And now it was 4:30 and everyone was here, waiting to find out what was going on.

Without even a preamble, Ms. Li got right down to cases. "Samantha has an issue she wants to discuss with me. Since it impacts on," she cleared her throat meaningfully, "larger issues, I thought everyone should be here."

Ms. Morris rose, all six feet of her. DeMarino felt a slight pricking of anxiety. He didn't like Amazon women; he preferred them meek and docile. Morris was anything but. Not that she'd go for me, or any other guy, I'm sure. Between her and Barch. He shook his head slightly and focused on what she was saying.

"Angela," Morris said, "I don't think dropping Brittany from the cheer squad was a very good idea. Since it was your idea, I strongly urge you to consider reversing the decision."

Before Li could respond, Janet Barch roared to her feet. "That's what this is about," she snapped, her voice raised in a witch's shriek. "Those insipid pom-pom wavers? How dare you waste our time like this."

"Um, Janet," TImothy O'Neill said in his usually diffident voice. "I think we should hear everyone out, don't you?"

"Timothy is quite correct," Li snapped. "Please sit down, Janet, while I explain why I'm going to ignore Ms. Morris' request." Barch subsided, as Morris half-rose again.

"Sit down, Samantha. I have it in mind," Li said, rising and beginning to pace the room, "to attach certain responsibilities to the position of head cheerleader, responsibilities Brittany Taylor does have the mental equipment to fulfill."

Another uneasy feeling rose in DeMartino, one that had nothing to do with misogyny and everything to do with Li's overtly fascistic tendencies. "Excuse me, Ms. Li," he said, his staccato emphasis giving his words a strange authority. "Exactly who will be replacing Brittany as head cheerleader?"

"I believe it was Dawn Wilkins, was it not?" Morris's voice was strangely brittle. Her obvious discomfort made DeMartino's unease rise even higher.

"Yes," Li said, with affected calm. "Miss Wilkins is a longtime member of the cheerleading squad and her organizational skills are far superior to those of Miss Taylor. I feel those skills can be an asset to the school in many different ways."

"In other words," DeMartino snarled, "you're going to use her because she won some stupid popularity game by showing a level of moral decay suitable to a Third World dictator or College Republican."

Li stopped her pacing long enough to confront him. "Mr. DeMartino," she said, "please control yourself. I merely feel that Miss Wilkins' abilities can be used to maintain order among the students as a prerequisite for bringing honor and glory to Lawwwwwwndale High." Her drawn out pronunciation of the name of his purgatory brought the usual nausea to DeMartino's stomach.

An unexpected voice chimed in. "I don't think this is a good idea." Claire DeFoe never spoke during these meetings, except to defend art funding. "It seems too much like rewarding base cruelty."

"How do the rest of you feel?" Ms. Li asked.

Heads nodded, and several murmured, "I agree with Ms. Defoe"s could be heard."

"Well, you're all overruled," Ms. Li snapped. "I will impose order on this school. Clearly, throwing surreptitious support behind that ridiculous Fashion Club wasn't enough, and Miss Wilkins is perfectly willing to work with the administration to ensure harmony."

DeMartino's jaw dropped with shock, "Do you mean to tell me...," he blurted before he could stop himself. As he gathered himself, he noticed looks of shock on almost all the other faces, and a look of shame on Mrs. Bennett's. "that you instigated the bloodletting of a couple of months ago?" Some of his better students had been badly damaged by that fiasco.

"No," Li's smile was smug. "The little piranhas did that all by themselves. It did serve a purpose, though. It told me which one could be used to keep all the others in line." A crafty look, almost an evil one, came into her eyes. "And that's just what I intend to do."

* * *

Jane crept through the darkness along Glen Oaks Lane, carefully avoiding the light of the street lamps. Part of her reveled in the sheer artistry of her cloak and dagger antics, while her sensible side wondered if it were really necessary. Quinn had been adamant, though. Other people could fabricate reasons to visit Morgendorffer Home Base, but Jane was too well known as Daria's friend. If she had to come, she was to make sure no one saw her.

And since when do you listen to Quinn? One house away, Jane ducked behind a shrub to avoid a lone pair of headlights.

But that's the point, she thought in response to herself. The goals are Daria's, but the plan is Quinn's. So if this is going to work.... Her thoughts trailed off as she reached her goal. She moved quickly along the side of house that was in shadow until she reached the back window, Daria's window. Some gravel gathered earlier and expertly thrown provided the needed rattling against the glass, and a light soon came up. At this prearranged signal, Jane slipped over to the back door.

After a moment, the door slid open and angry eyes under a mop of red hair glared at her. "You're late."

"Good to see you too, Quinn," Jane said, with a mocking half smile.

"Skip the small talk. Why were you delayed? Were you seen?" Behind Quinn, Jane could see Daria hovering, looking sleepy.

"I had a date with Evan, and you have no idea how stupid I felt asking him to drop me off halfway between my house and your house. Now let me in. I'm getting cold standing on the doorstep."

Quinn looked like she wanted to continue the interrogation, but Daria stepped forward, moving her sister out of the way so Jane could enter.

"Thanks, amiga," Jane smiled, as the three girls took seats around the kitchen table.

"So," Daria said. "What's so important that you had to cost Quinn her beauty sleep?" Quinn fixed her sister with a glare, which Daria ignored.

"Intelligence," Jane said. "A possible defector from the other side."

"And it couldn't have waited until tomorrow?" Quinn snapped. "You could have gotten me a note."

"I wanted to talk to you in person, since this is a pretty big fish. Besides, I figured you'd just ignore the note." She could see the suspicion growing in the faces of both sisters. "After all, it's not someone that's very popular with you right now."

Neither Daria nor Quinn said a word, and both their faces were suddenly unreadable. The silence stretched as Jane decided how best deliver her news. Eventually, she settled on the simple approach. One word. "Zoe."

Sudden pain crossed Daria's face, making Jane regret her decision to come. The anger in Quinn's voice reinforced that feeling. "What were you thinking, Jane? She's going to run right to Dawn and there goes the element of surprise!"

"Give me some credit, Quinn." The sudden heat in Jane's voice matched Quinn's. "She approached me, not the other way around. And I blew her off."

"So why bother telling us? She was just spying."

"I don't think so." Jane paused to think. "She made sure no one was around before she talked to me. And you didn't hear her. She sounded pretty desperate."

Quinn waved a hand dismissively, but before she could speak, Daria interrupted, voice a whisper. "How desperate, Jane?"

"Like she was trapped in a situation she couldn't escape." Jane gave a smile. "I've seen the same expression on Nick's face after arguments with Max. Listen," she continued, serious again. "I know we think Zoe is Dawn's right hand because we never see the two apart, and because of what she did to Daria, but what if we're wrong? Maybe Dawn keeps Zoe under her eye because she doesn't trust her. Evan said she's not really enjoying the perks the way the other cheerleaders do. Nikki and Angie are vying for some of your old records, Quinn."

Quinn grimaced at the reminder of her old social status. Jane wasn't sure if the grimace was at the reminder of how shallow she'd been or at the lifestyle she'd been denied the past two months. "Whatever. It's a scam."

Daria looked thoughtful. "I don't know, Quinn. Another window into the other side can always be helpful. I think we can use Zoe."

"I don't believe it," Quinn gave her sister an incredulous stare. "You'll forgive Zoe after what she did to you?"

"I didn't say forgive, Quinn. I said use. That's a different thing altogether." As she spoke, her smile became predatory, as did her sister's after a moment.

Jane found the matching expressions on the two Morgendorffer girls suddenly frightening.

Tuesday

Her daughters often accused Helen of being consumed with her career to the point of not knowing them. If she were honest with herself, Helen would concede that they had a point—she was hung up on her career and it did prevent her from spending time with her daughters. But, she reflected, that didn't mean she didn't know them. In fact, she knew them very well; her instincts were finely tuned when it came to changes in their behavior.

For example, Tuesday morning breakfast was loaded with hints of impending chaos. Not that Quinn was vibrating with anxiety or anything like that. Nothing that obvious. Both both Quinn and Daria were giving signals that something was up. Helen wondered whether—okay, how much—she should involve herself.

"So," she asked, affecting nonchalance. "What's going on at school, these days?"

"Just the usual, Mom," Quinn said a little too quickly.

"Yes," Daria added in that way she had. "Quinn and I are going to ignore each other. Of course, I'm going to ignore everyone else, too, so it's not like Quinn's special." She gave her sister an edged smile, which Quinn returned.

Right, Helen thought, suppressing a wry smile. Like I don't notice that you two spend most of your time with your heads together these days. I'm disappointed that you think I'm that dumb, though. To keep the conversation going, she said, "Now now, girls. You should both try to give people a chance. They may surprise you." At this point, I don't even believe myself.

"The only thing that surprises me," said Daria with some asperity, "is that I haven't actually been tarred and feathered yet." After a moment's reflection, she added, "unless you mean metaphorically."

"Eww... Dah-ria!" Quinn said. "Who'd be caught dead wearing feathers?! You'd look like a drag queen."

Jake, coming down the stairs, heard Quinn's last two words and beat a hasty retreat, much to Helen's relief. "Oh, come on, girls," she said. "You can always join a school activity. That's a great way to expand your social circle. And both your social circles have contracted significantly in the last few moths."

"Considering the lack of success of my last foray into school activities, I'm not sure I should try another one," Daria said. "I might not survive."

Quinn gave her sister a tight smile. "I can think of an activity we can both enjoy."

Daria didn't respond, but from Helen's point of view, she didn't need to. Whatever they've been planning, they're about to make it happen. And they may need someone to stop them. Or, she thought with a wicked glint in her eye, someone to help them.

* * *

Lawndale's a strange place, Mack reflected as he changed after morning football practice. Not that morning football practice was unusual at most schools, but it was February. The spring season, which seemed to be a feature only of the county that was home to Lawndale, Oakdale, and their fellow schools, would be starting soon. As captain, Mack would normally have his attention fixed on that, and not on the speculation and empty boasts about the opposite sex that made up locker room talk, but today was slightly different.

A couple of the offensive linemen were urging Kevin to break up with Brittany, "and date a cheerleader, man!" Mack's instructions had been to make sure the team took this line, but not to push anything unless he absolutely had to, so this was pretty much an optimal situation. So why do I feel like such a sleaze?

Kevin looked uncomfortable. "Uh, I know she's not a cheerleader, but I don't know if that should matter. After all, she is my babe."

"Come on, Kevin," said Jim, a linebacker and one of the more respected guys on the team. "It's not like Brittany's your only babe. You've had half the cheerleaders in the county."

"I know," Kevin said, "but that doesn't count. Brittany's my babe. The others were just part of the stuff you have to do as a quarterback." Even as he said it, his face took on an almost reverent grin. Classic Kevin logic, thought Mack. Just because you think you have to do it, doesn't mean you can't have fun.

"Well, this is something you have to do as quarterback, too," Jim said.

Before Kevin could speak, Robert chimed in, voice deep and slow. "Um, I think Jim is right, sir. As the leader of the offense, it is your duty to date a cheerleader."

Mack noticed Joey, already dressed and looking angry, moving toward the knot surrounding Kevin. The three Js had all changed profoundly since Quinn's fall. They were all much more aware of the class striations at Lawndale High, and Joey at least, had begun to take them personally. Extending an arm, Mack slowed the smaller boy. Joey whirled angrily, but Mack, unruffled, simply said in a low voice. "Quinn wants this, Joey. She'll make it up to Brittany later."

Joey still hadn't managed a date with Quinn—she'd pled for time to absorb what happened—but her name still functioned like a magic word. He froze, and nodded. "I'll take your word for it, Mack," he growled, "but if I find out you're lying, we're going to have words." He stalked out of the locker room unnoticed as Mack sighed. I can't believe Joey's gotten so aggressive. How come breaking the class system here is warping more people than the class system did?

Confident that the crowd would shift Kevin's opinion, Mack finished changing without another word and headed out where Joey had gone moments before.

* * *

Stacy had to give one thing to Dawn. Her sheer, bloody-minded efficiency was almost awe-inspiring. A couple of words to Sandi yesterday and she was already back in the food chain, with a cheerleader talking to her today. And a date for tonight. Mustn't forget that. Now if I could only work out who expects my loyalty in exchange.

The cheerleader in question, Lisa, didn't seem especially thrilled to be seen talking to her, but Stacy wasn't especially bothered. She knew she was still in the far outer orbits of popularity—not quite a chess geek or an unperson, like Quinn, but certainly way below her former rarefied status. She just concentrated on listening to Lisa and filling in the spaces with prattle about how wonderful the cheerleaders were and how grateful she was.

Lisa wore her hair pulled into a pony tail at the top of her head, known for bobbing when she was annoyed. It was bobbing frantically right now. "Yeah, great," she snapped. "All us cheerleaders are just wonderful."

Stacy, sensing the undercurrent of resentment, kept chattering. "I mean, it's so nice of you to come and talk to me again. No one really has in a couple of months, and I miss hearing all about everyone, and you know." She turned her most appealing doe-eyed face on Lisa.

Lisa met her eyes with stone. "I'm not surprised. God knows, no one wants hear about you."

"I think it's important to be a good listener," Stacy continued, ignoring Lisa's barb. "After all, how do you know what your friends want if you don't stop and listen?" She gave Lisa another hopeful look, and then stopped to listen.

"You're probably the only one in this place who does," Lisa muttered. "It's not like Dawn listens, and Angie and Nikki are too busy playing 'Can You Top Quinn' to pay attention to anyone else."

Stacy nodded sympathetically, as they reached Lisa's classroom. "It's hard when no one listens."

Lisa said nothing, but gave her a weighing look before turning to enter the classroom.

Well, that was profitable, thought Stacy as she headed up the hall to her own class. Only question is, "For who?"

* * *

By the end of second period, the word that the QB was about to be back on the market had made its way around most of the school. Charles Ruttheimer, known to the majority of his classmates as Upchuck, couldn't help but be fascinated by the play of plot and counterplot around him. He had little interest in Brittany's change in status, and none in Kevin's—the both of which facts would surprise some of his classmates, viewing him as the ultimate sleaze or someone overcompensating way too much.

The truth was that Charles just wasn't interested in his classmates. He knew he was smarter than they and as a result they bored him. "Upchuck" was a character he used to keep everyone at bay, that allowed him to exist outside the food chain instead of where those of his type—a little too bright, a little too odd, not at all athletic—would otherwise be: the bottom. Of course, in Dawn's world, there was a little less room for outsiders.

A sudden pain in his left arm alerted him to the presence of a football player on that side of him. Looking around, he found himself bracketed. Blond-haired Jamie had delivered the punch, while redhead Jeffy stood to the other side, a leer creasing his empty features. "Hey, Upchuck. You got a shot, man!"

"A shot?" Charles asked, not bothering for the moment with the effort of an "Upchuck" answer.

"With Brittany," Jamie chimed in. "Kevin dumped her, so she might even be desperate enough to go for you!"

Okay, he thought, this is worth the effort. "Ah ha! The lovely Brittany finally open to the embraces of the Chuckster. But surely," he said, puzzlement crossing his features. "the fair Brittany would limit her suitors to the other mighty champions vying for glory as Lawndale Lions?"

A blank stare crossed Jamie's face. Its most natural expression, Charles thought as Jamie added a, "Huh?"

"He means football players, dumbass," Jeffy snapped. Jamie's expression darkened.

"Indeed," said Charles, in a placating tone. "Lawndale's mighty Lions, except of course those devoted to the divine Quinn."

Jamie's features continued to darken, as Jeffy spoke, a bit harshly. "Quinn's old news. And so is Brittany. Kevin dumped her because she's not a cheerleader anymore, and football players date cheerleaders, or girls as popular as cheerleaders. Brittany's neither." He tagged Upchuck with a punch on the other arm, much less "friendly" than Jamie's and much more painful. "So, you gonna make a move?"

Feeling hostility in the air, Charles trod carefully. "A move? Nothing so gauche," he said, adding a classic Upchuck leer. Actually Charles found Brittany about as appealing as a blow-up doll. She was pretty, but totally vacant. I'll bet the doll would be a better conversationalist. "My campaign will be planned carefully, down to the last detail, to ensure that such a lovely morsel will be ensnared by the Ruttheimer charm." God, I hate my last name.

"So, you're, uh, not going after Quinn?" Jamie asked suddenly. Before Charles could answer, Jeffy's snarl filled the corridor, and a punch connected solidly with Jamie's jaw. In seconds, the two were at it hammer and tongs, Charles totally forgotten. Gathering his stuff, he walked away form the circle now forming.

The funny thing is, he thought, Quinn shorn of her popularity is somewhat intriguing. She was lovely in an understated way, not gaudy like Brittany, and intelligence and ambition clearly hid behind her armor of superficiality. She's not worth dropping the shield for. Truth was, no one in Lawndale was. Jodie, maybe, but she was attached to Mack at the hip, when she wasn't buried in school activities. And Daria, of course. Daria was easily his mental equal. He'd considered opening up to Daria in the early days after her arrival, until he realized that he just didn't like her very much. She'd be so pretty if she just let herself have fun. But she has to be a miserable bitch. Well, Upchuck will be fine until I can get the hell out of here.

Looking back, he saw Jeffy and Jamie, now rolling around on the floor, as a crowd of other students cheered them on. For a second, his eyes met those of Joey, the former third of the three Quinnsketeers. The disgust he saw there shocked him. For a moment, he wondered about his own plans. Upchuck required room outside the pecking order, and Dawn's order was filling spaces in the school that the old one hadn't. I may have to take a hand if I want to get out of high school whole and sane.

* * *

Meanwhile, Sandi was already feeling the rumblings of Kevin's decision by third period. Even if a breathless Kelly hadn't run up to her after first period, imparted her news of the day, and disappeared—to report to Dawn, Sandi was sure—the signs were everywhere. Angie and Nikki were stalking around with expressions not unlike sharks—feral grins, eyes empty of thought but full of an insatiable hunger. Dawn's too smart to make a play for Kevin, but he'd be a feather in the caps of either of those morons.

Her instincts were finely tuned to the popularity game—with one obvious exception—and she had a feeling of wrongness about the whole thing. It wasn't like Kevin to do anything suddenly. If he'd broken up with Brittany after a week of what he'd called thinking, she wouldn't be suspicious. But after a day? Someone pushed him, and I'd love to know who.

As she moved to close her locker, a familiar voice whispered, "Walk with me." Sandi was amazed how Dawn managed to make even words without sibilants sound like a hiss. Obediently, she fell into step next to the other girl.

Dawn's expression was unreadable as she said, "I've rehabilitated Stacy. She's been chatting with Lisa all morning. That should be enough to let the rest of the school know she's back in the food chain."

Sandi dropped her head in a nod a little too close to a curtsey. "Thank you, Dawn. I appreciate it."

"But I can't help wonder," Dawn continued, "why you would ask a favor for someone who isn't loyal to you."

Sandi shrugged, and sounded noncommittal. "Like I said, she asked. She seemed pretty beaten down after the last couple of months, so I thought it wouldn't hurt me, or you, to be seen as merciful. After all, Stacy wasn't someone you needed to break." She tried to sound as supportive as possible. Sandi was perfectly happy to let Dawn fall, but not if Dawn was going to take her down as well. And Sandi and the Fashion Club were so tied in with the Pom-Pom Mafia that the only way she could avoid taking another fall was to knock Dawn off herself. And that she was not ready to risk. Yet.

"No. I suppose not." Dawn said. "Make sure you don't become someone I need to break either, Sandi."

The all-but-explicit threat sent a shiver of rage down Sandi's spine, but she spoke anyway. "Dawn, there's something you should know."

"Oh?" A single syllable, but a dangerous syllable.

"I've been getting a feeling today, a feeling I don't like. I think someone's manipulating things."

"Duh. I am."

"Besides you." Sandi's voice was urgent. "Kevin breaking up with Brittany was awful sudden, don't you think?"

"She's not a cheerleader anymore. Why would he wait?"

"Dawn, this is Kevin we're talking about. He wears his uniform because otherwise it would take him six hours to choose clothes. His brain doesn't move fast enough to make decisions, except on the football field."

"So?" Puzzlement entered Dawn's voice.

Rage rose up in Sandi, but she choked it down. Why am I always stuck propping up idiots? First Stacy and Tiffany, then Quinn a couple of months ago, and now Dawn. "So, someone must have convinced him to break up with Brittany."

"So sure it wasn't me?"

"Yes," Sandi said, letting just a little asperity touch her voice. "Do you know who was talking to Kevin this morning?"

"Well, they all had practice, but Corey told me that Jim and Robert were the most vocal. Eventually all the guys joined in."

"All the guys? What about Mack?" Sandi asked.

Dawn shrugged. "Mack doesn't get involved in things like this. He probably wasn't even there."

"It's Mack's job to keep Kevin out of trouble."

"Yeah, but this isn't trouble. Kevin's allowed to change girlfriends."

"True." Sandi nodded. "I still think something's up."

"You worry too much, Sandi," Dawn said. "After all, there's no one left to challenge me." With a mocking smile, the cheerleader strolled off.

Sandi watched her go with an ironic expression. Oh, I wouldn't bet on that.

* * *

Skylar Feldman strutted through the halls of Lawndale High like it was good to be him, because it was. His high profile in pushing Dawn to the top of the populary heap had widened his sphere immensely. While it wasn't true that Skylar could have any girl in school, it was close enough to make no difference to him.

Yes, it was good to be him these days, and if it was tougher to be some other people as a consequence of his rise, well that was good too. He saw Stacy Rowe hurry by, which gave him a pleasant tingle at the thought of Quinn's fall. Quinn, who had tried to use him, and then tried to use him again, and paid the ultimate price in popularity. Skylar didn't usually bother with hate—most people were beneath him and not worth wasting the effort on—but for Quinn he made an exception.

He let himself dwell on Quinn for just a moment, before noticing Zoe at her locker. There were certain things he was expected to do, and greet cheerleaders was one of them. Although greeting Zoe serves a different purpose. He slid in next to her, leaning casually against the lockers of students already gone to class. "Hey, Zoe."

Zoe, who knew exactly what this was about, shot him a venemous stare, but greeted him in a perfectly pleasant voice. "Oh, hey Skylar. What's up?"

He grinned lazily. "Not much. The usual. Got a date tonight with the new girl." A sophomore girl had just moved into town. She was quite the looker and Skylar was looking forward to trying her. He caught the grimace on Zoe's face and chuckled to himself. "How about you?"

"You know. Same old. Classes, practice, date." She faked a rueful smile. "I thought Brit was a tough captain, but Dawn's promising to run us ragged."

"Oh?" He raised any eyebrow. "You going steady with anyone?" He knew this question would rankle. Dawn severly limited Zoe's dating pool, and going steadly was out of the question. Dawn had told him, in a moment of intimacy, that the only person Zoe was approved to go steady with was Robert. Zoe was no genius, but she had a lively mind and he knew she'd have more fun dating a lamppost than the lumpen Robert.

She shrugged, trying and failing to seem nonchallant. "Who has time? Busy, busy, busy."

Time to twist the knife, he thought with a villanous mental chuckle. "What about Taylor? I hear he's available."

Color drained from Zoe's face and all trace of civility left her voice. In a low, vicious tone she snarled. "You worthless piece of shit. Fuck you, Skylar. Fuck you."

This time he verbalized the chuckle. "Sorry, sweetie," he added with a sneer. He'd had Zoe once or twice after she made the squad, but now he had bigger fish to fry. "These days, you couldn't afford me. Have fun, though. Maybe Dawn'll let you date the captain of the chess team." Before she could respond, he sauntered off, tossing a look back to see Zoe slumped against her locker. For a second he thought he saw a flash of green jacket out of the corner of his eye, but disregarded it.

* * *

Daria hadn't expected to do recon before lunch, but when she saw Skylar smarm his way over to Zoe, she saw an opportunity she couldn't miss. She buried herself at the edge of a clot of chattering students and tried her hardest to hear the conversation. Strangely, it was only the parts no one was meant to hear that caught her attention.

Along with the knife cut of hurt that always accompanied mention of Taylor's name, she felt her assumptions change in uncomfortable ways as Skylar oozed off and Zoe sagged against the locker. It could be a set up, her cynical side thought. But for who? logic retorted. None of the big players are around, and I'm sure they didn't see me.

She resolved to keep a discreet eye on Zoe, to see if her reaction had been a put-on, but she didn't have to wait long for her answer, as the other girl, still obviously distraught, pulled herself together only enough to dart into the nearest empty classroom. Daria followed discreetly, her mind still awhirl. She's an enemy, the angry part roared. <>She's a tool, the cynical side muttered. Underneath it all, a little voice, a voice Daria seldom heeded, the voice closest to her unconscious mind, whispered, She's suffering.

She found herself at the door, frozen with indecision. This isn't my thing. she thought, summoning reluctance. I'm no good at it. She stared at the door. Through the window, she saw Zoe's crumpled form. But I have to try. Resolution filled her, and she slid the door open.

Zoe looked up, and horror dawned in her eyes. "Not you," she whispered. "Oh, please. Not you."

As Daria dropped next to her, Zoe tried to pull away, but a fresh storm of weeping took her. Awkwardly, Daria put her arms around the other girl. Twice in two days, she thought incongruously, as Zoe cried on her shoulder. I think that triples the number of times in my life I've offered emotional support to someone.

Finally, the other girl subsided. She looked up, her own eyes puffy with crying, and met Daria's, which were full of compassion. In Daria's arms, she shook slightly. "How can bear to help me? How can you bear to touch me, after what I did to you?"

Daria leaned back and opened her arms from around the other girl. "You're hurting. I've learned a little about that over the last couple of months." Her voice lacked inflection, but there was something there that promised understanding.

Self-loathing rose in Zoe's voice. "But I did that to you. I'm the reason you were hurt so badly."

Daria paused for a long moment, marshaling her thoughts. The temptation to twist the knife rose, but her better angels squashed it ruthlessly. "I think that you just got caught up in things, Zoe. So did I." With a sigh, knowing how much it cost her, and guessing how much it would cost Zoe, she added, "so did Taylor."

Fresh guilt crossed Zoe's face. "I didn't do those things, Daria. I mean, I did suggest he try to get you to go out for Drama Club, but so far as I know, his interest was genuine."

Daria's insides roiled, though she was careful not to let her face show anything. Confirmation of what she'd begun to suspect—that she'd badly hurt someone innocent of everything except liking her too much—hit her like a slap. How much pain did I cause? Her internal voice was accusatory. But as shame threatened to engulf her, Zoe's voice called her back to the here and now.

"Can you forgive me, Daria? I know I don't deserve it, and I don't see how you can."

"I forgive you, Zoe, for what it's worth," Daria said, speaking carefully. "But I don't think it's my forgiveness you need. I think you need to forgive yourself."

For a moment, Daria thought she saw tears starting anew in Zoe's eyes. "I can't," Zoe choked out. "I hurt so many people. How can I ever forgive myself?"

Again the cynical voice rose. She's yours. Recruit her now. The words were there. To forgive yourself, you have to free yourself from Dawn. And I can show you how. She looked into Zoe's beseeching eyes, and part of her, the part that felt used, was ready to say them. But in the end, the most human part of Daria, that little voice that spoke so loudly, stayed her. She made her voice as gentle as she could. "I don't know, Zoe. I wish I did. But I think it's something you're going to have to decide for yourself."

Confusion and pain warred in Zoe's eyes. "But how will I know? Can't you help me?"

"No," Daria said. "I'm not far enough from the situation. I can't see it objectively. If I tell you you need to hurt Dawn, does that satisfy your conscience or my need for revenge?" With a sigh, she added. "And if I trick you into helping me, how does that make me better than Dawn?"

"And if I decide that hurting Dawn is the right thing to do?"

Daria considered for a long moment. She hadn't planned for this, but instinct told her that no matter what Zoe meant, there was only one answer. Quinn was too harsh, and Jodie too concealed. The others weren't in deep enough. That left one answer, and she'd have to talk to her before Zoe did, but she couldn't see anything else to do.

"I don't know that hurting someone is ever the right thing to do, Zoe," she said, voice still mild, "but if I wanted to be on the side of the angels, I think I'd talk to Jane Lane."

Without another word, she turned to go, leaving a very thoughtful Zoe behind.

* * *

Nikki and Angie were having an argument. It had gone on most of the day, but it was really starting to gain steam on the way to lunch. In fact, it was getting heated enough that the two cheerleaders were in danger of breaking Dawn's first rule: Never let 'em see you fight.

"I still don't see why you think you get first dibs," Angie whined.

Nikki smiled smugly. "I've got seniority. I've been a cheerleader longer than you have."

"By five minutes!" Angie snapped. "Britt went in alphabetical order when she took us aside to talk to us."

As if mention of her name drew her attention, Brittany broke off from talking to Jodie to listen to her ex-teammates. Nikki's retort of, "I'm just doing you a favor, Angie. I wouldn't want to you embarrass yourself," brought a frown to Brittany's face. "We never used to fight like that," she said to a thoughtful Jodie.

Angie almost snarled. "What makes you think I'll be the one embarrassing myself?"

"C'mon, Ang. You know not everyone's got the stuff," Nikki gave her hips a little shake, causing her uniform skirt to ride higher and a collective moan to escape from the couple of guys who'd turned up to see the show, "to catch a QB."

Angie's reply was lost to Brittany, whose eyes had narrowed with hate as her ears filled with a roaring sound. I will not cry, she told herself. I will not cry. I will not rip Nikki's face off and eat it like that guy in the movie with the lambs. The vividness of her mental picture of doing just that to Nikki shocked her. The shock and Jodie's calming hands brought her back to herself.

"Disemboweling Nikki and Angie right here in the hall will not bring Kevin back to you," Jodie whispered.

"I know," sighed Brittany as her voice cracked. "But I thought they were my friends."

"They were," Jodie said, "until Dawn made them into piranhas. Come on." She led the blonde off just as an angry Lisa arrived.

Taking in the situation in a glance, Lisa pasted on a smile and slid in between the bickering cheerleaders. She put her arms around the other girls' waists, not coincidentally eliciting another moan from the boys. It was a gesture that used to be common when bubbly Brittany was head cheerleader in fact as well as name, but it also made excellent concealment for the good hard pinch she gave each of the other two.

"Shut up, you nimrods," she hissed, even as she gave the hall a glowing smile. "United front, remember." The anger in her voice forestalled any comment by the other two even as she squealed, "Let's go to lunch!" for public consumption. Dawn's gotta to take these two in hand, she thought as she steered Nikki and Angie toward the lunchroom. "Arms around my shoulders, idiots," she muttered. "We're supposed to be having fun."

And if Dawn doesn't, someone else will, she thought, as the other two each draped an arm over her. And, looking the picture of girlish enthusiasm, the three headed for the lunchroom, leaving a trail of drooling teen boys in their wake.

* * *

Stacy was more than a little anxious when Sandi materialized next to her in the hall after lunch. Her anxiety grew as Sandi whispered, "Follow me," but she knew she had no choice. Slipping up to the roof behind Sandi brought her anxiety to a fever pitch.

"What if we get caught?" she gibbered.

"We'll just have to take that chance, won't we?" Sandi sneered. She regarded Stacy with a glint in her eye. "You're happy to be back in the food chain, I take it?"

"Oh, yes," Stacy burbled. "I mean, I only have one date so far, but it's only a matter of time until I'm up to speed, since boys have been talking to me all morning. It's been nice."

"So that means you owe me, right?" Sandi's eyes grew fierce.

Stacy nodded, misgivings growing.

"And that means you're going to be loyal to me, right?" Sandi said. "Because what I did for you, I can take away."

"Well, actually didn't Dawn—"

"Stacy!" Sandi snapped in the tone so familiar from their days in the Fashion Club together.

"Eep," said Stacy and subsided.

Sandi was silent for a moment. "I've got a job for you."

Stacy gulped. "A job?"

"Yes," Sandi nodded, as she looked out across the grounds from her lofty perch. a perch she had enjoyed previously, and swore she would again. "You're going to be a courier, now, and you're going to pass along the exact message I give you." She pierced Stacy with a gimlet glare. "Because if you screw it up, Stacy, your next date will be in college. If you're lucky."

Stacy gulped again and wondered how she'd gotten herself in such a position.

* * *

Gym class was something of a torture for Andrea and Jen. For one thing, the locker rooms and showers had sort of a prison feel to them, and the gym seemed like the sort of place inmates would get their hour in the sun. For another, the cigarettes (and occasional joint) they both smoked gave them very little wind to spare for Ms. Morris' exotic "healthy activities." All in all, it was no surprise that they referred to gym class as "death row" and the track and field activities as "walking the mile."

Today was one of the good days, though. It was a long-distance run, which was horrific, but the students were sent off in pairs, which meant there was comparatively little activity. You did your run, and if you didn't die, you had the rest of the period, and the time before, to mock your fellow students, make plans for after school, and generally bullshit about life.

Andrea and Jen tended to stand near the back of the line, in hopes that class would end before Morris sent them off. Rumor had it that something like that had happened once, but never to Andrea or Jen—or Scarlett, the red-haired goth with whom they sometimes hung out. One pair ahead of Andrea and Jen, Scarlett fingered her ankh as Jane Lane crossed the finish line a good five hundred yards ahead of her partner, heavyset Helene.

Andrea gave Scarlett a scathing look. "Trying to cast a spell, there, Red? Betcha Lane would outrun it." They weren't really friends, and Scarlett's fascination with the occult was part of why.

Scarlett turned and snorted. "Don't mock what you don't understand, Andrea. Besides, I wouldn't waste my magic on a third rate popularity whore like Jane Lane."

"Sure. Whatever." Andrea turned back to talk to Jen as another pair went off, but Jen was already weighing Scarlett.

"So who would you waste your magic on?" the blonde girl asked.

The redhead gave her a cold stare. "And why would you care? You don't take me seriously either, Jen."

"Just curious." Jen shrugged. "After all, there sure are a lot of people to hate at Lawndale."

"So? Do you think I concern myself with the mundanes who infest this place?" Her hate-filled stare gave the lie to her statement. Andrea followed the line of sight to where Daria and Dawn were paired, waiting to start their run. Hmm....., she thought. I wonder if that's what Jen is doing. Jen was much deeper in the Morgendorffer plot that she was, but she knew something was going on, and she wasn't above a little intelligence gathering. Or even recruiting. But won't any side Scarlett is on automatically be the the bad guys?

She chuckled aloud. "The Demon Queen of Lawndale and short, green, and mopey. I'd love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation."

"Comparing fatal illnesses, I hope," said Scarlett.

"C'mon," Jen said, scuffing a foot against the green of the grass. "Daria's not anyone's friend, but she's not anyone's enemy either. She's just sort of there. Especially since Lane dumped her for track."

"Track boy, you mean." Scarlett laughed unpleasantly. "Frankly, she's such a bitch, I can't believe Lane ever dragged herself into the same bed with her."

Bet Jen'll tell Quinn that rumor's still alive, Andrea thought, and saw Ms. Morris walking over. TIme to shut the hell up. She waved Jen to silence and both of them missed Scarlett's next mutter. "The only person I hate more than greencoat is her bitch of a sister. And Dawn," she added. "There's always Dawn." She subsided into grim fantasies.

Lisa, unnoticed one pair ahead of Scarlett, said nothing, but heard every word. Ideas began to bloom in her brain.

* * *

As she ran, Daria was completely unaware of eyes on her save one pair. She'd found the mile run mildly horrifying last year—Jane had easily outdistanced her and spent the rest of gym class, and the day, mocking her—but this was sheer torture. No Jane, who was already done, and Morris, whether by coincidence or through malice aforethought, had paired her with Dawn.

As they ran, Daria could feel Dawn's eyes on her, weighing and mocking. She tried to ignore them and speed up, but Dawn paced her easily, not speaking, not even breathing hard. Daria wondered at the silence until Dawn finally spoke, a simple, "Hello, Daria," but colored subtly with mockery, contempt, and not a little bit of hate.

"Hello, Dawn," Daria returned, concentrating on running and not on how much she wanted to hurt the other girl, for what she'd done to Quinn. And for what she did to me.

"Enjoying the run?"

"Not particularly, no." Although she was already beginning to pant, Daria added, "I've never wanted to get anyplace so badly that I had to run."

"I'm sure," Dawn said. "I imagine you've never wanted to get anyplace at all."

Daria ignored the sally and kept running. The distance between them and the pair ahead grew as Morris sent off the pair behind them.

"A pity your foray into popularity didn't work out," Dawn sneered.

"I suppose you're going to tell me you would have found me useful," Daria said. Quinn's wrong. She's more like a fifth-rate Bond villain. Even Disney goons wouldn't work for her.

"Oh no, Daria," Dawn's smile grew vindictive. "I found you very useful."

"I'm thrilled for you," Daria kept her voice bland, thought her mind was seething. Maybe she's sharper than I thought. After all, it doesn't do to underestimate an opponent. "Why should I care? Popularity is Quinn's thing, and Quinn's thing is not my thing."

"Of course not, Daria." Dawn oozed condescension. "Pity about Taylor, though. But I'm sure he's found someone to comfort him."

Daria gritted her teeth and kept running as they passed the halfway point. I am not getting into this with her.

Dawn seemed content after that, and the two girls ran in silence, which was just as well. Daria's breathing became labored and the stitch in her side grew worse and worse, while Dawn continued to pace her, though not with the carefree ease of before. The cheerleader's face was red with effort as her own breathing began to show the strain.

As the two girls approached the finish line, though, Dawn mustered the energy for one last cut. "Oh, and Daria," she breathed. "Don't think you or Quinn will take me down. I'm on top to stay. Remember that."

Daria turned away as they finished. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ms. Morris and rage grew in her, only to be replaced by surprise, as the gym teacher slowly and clearly winked at her.

* * *

Lisa was not having a good day. Between dealing with Stacy Rowe in the morning and keeping Angie and Nikki apart all day—the incident on the way to lunch was the first of three—she was ready to take someone apart. Having Skylar stand her up for tonight was just the icing on the cake. And just when I wanted a meaningless fuck. Ah well, he's not that good anyway.

Speaking of "not that good," Bret Strand slimed his way next to her as she stood in front of her locker before seventh period. "Hey, babe," he said, in poor imitation of the poor original, Kevin Thompson.

Restraining a desire to pound her (or, more likely, his) head against the locker, she turned. "Bret. What an unpleasant surprise." She'd jumped on the Strand merry-go-round all the way back in freshman year, and it wasn't an experience she'd care to repeat, especially since locker room chatter suggested that the passage of time had done nothing to improve Bret's skills.

"Sure, Lees," he said with a chuckle. "Just wanted to see if you needed a little consolation, since Skylar's decided to notch the new girl tonight."

"Sorry, Bret," she said with a sour expression. "I have to fumigate my bedroom again tonight. After all, it's only been two years since you were in it."

"Funny," he snarled. "What the fuck is up with you? Get a little thrown your way and you think you own the school. All I'm trying to do is have a good time."

"Me too. Which is why I'm spending the night apart from you." Baiting Bret improved her mood a little.

"Well, fuck you too, then," he said. "I don't need you anyway. At least Dawn knows how to treat a guy right." She watched as he stalked off, considering his last words. She didn't think he'd run to Dawn—she has better taste than that, if not by much—which meant he'd thrown out the line to annoy her. She was surprised to find out that it did.

Fuck Dawn anyway. What did all her 'ruling the school' get me? I date the same class of guy, get hit on by Bret Fucking Strand, and have to babysit a bunch of morons, all so Dawn can fuck whoever she wants whenever she wants. It wasn't until she slammed her locker that she noticed the frightened deer expression of Stacy Rowe next to her. "What the fuck do you want?" she snarled at Stacy.

"Eep!" The other girl went green with fear. "Nothing, Lisa," she mumbled.

"Then why," Lisa growled, "are you bothering me?"

Stacy took a deep breath to gather herself. "Nothing for me. Sandi wants to talk to you."

"To me?" Lisa arched an eyebrow. "Why not to Dawn? The Fashion Club reports to the Head Cheerleader."

Stacy took another deep breath, and began to speak as if by rote. "Sandi said to tell you that if you talked to her, you would learn something advantageous. It's up to you to decide whether it's to Dawn's advantage or your own."

Lisa took a long moment to think. Sandi Griffin. Hmm.... Someone with no reason to love Dawn. Lisa knew it could be a trap, but she somehow doubted it. Dawn had done a very good job setting herself up as Queen Bee, but the more comfortable she got, the sloppier she got. Lisa was willing to bet that Dawn wasn't setting traps for anyone. In fact, let's go double or nothing.

"Where and when?" she asked.

* * *

Track practice was breaking up as Evan came to stand beside Jane, a look of consternation on his face. Before he could say her name, she stopped him.

"Evan, we talked about this."

"I know. It's just—"

She sighed. "I know. I don't like it either, but it's something I have to do."

He raised an eyebrow. "You have to?"

"Yes," she said, and turned away from him. "For a friend."

"Some friend," he muttered, as he admired her profile.

"Yes, she said, still not turning to look at him. "She is some friend, and she was hurt very badly."

For a long moment, he just stared. She was so beautiful and she was his—and he didn't want to risk that. But that was what she was asking him to do. And worse, he understood. "I know, Jane. I just wish it didn't have to be you." That didn't make it any easier.

"I know." She turned back to face him, and a slow smile bloomed. "Don't sweat it, runner boy. It'll all be over soon. Meantime, I could go for a slice." An impish gleam grew in her eye. "Race you too the Pizza King. Loser buys," she said, even as she took off, leaving a very startled Evan in her wake.

* * *

Ms. Morris watched from her office, with a half smile, as her two best runners took off. She had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about, even if she didn't know specifics. She suddenly wondered if she'd even needed to bother pairing Daria with Dawn during gym today. Couldn't hurt. Anything to stoke the fire.

A knock at her office door interrupted her reverie. Not waiting for an answer, Anthony DeMartino walked in. "Well?" he demanded.

"Something's definitely going on. Jane and Evan were arguing about something, and Daria's obviously concentrating hard on something. Not a sarcastic word this week." She shrugged. "I even paired her with Dawn Wilkins for the run today, and not a word."

"Was that merely to entertain yourself, Mrs. Morris, or did you have a reason for putting Daria through that?" DeMartino's staccato tone sounded somehow brittle.

I keep forgetting he has a soft spot for the little snot, which is why he's here. But enemy of my enemy and all that. "Just to keep the pot boiling. So what's the next step?"

"That, Ms. Morris is up to the students," he said, his eye bulging. Ms. Morris knew she should be used to it after all these years, but still it creeped her out.

"We have to wait for them?"

"We have a trap," he said, "but the students, or at least a couple of them, are providing the bait."

* * *

"Explain this to me again, Sandi." Lisa said, honest puzzlement on her face. "Why do we want to involve freaks and geeks in our little plot?"

The two girls sat a booth at the Good Times Chinese Restaurant, a place that neither of them would normally be caught dead in, but also a place that none of their classmates would be caught dead in either, which was the point.

"To avoid making the mistake that Dawn's making," Sandi said. Her tone faintly regretful, she added, "It's the same mistake I made." Lisa's puzzled face showed no change, so she continued. "Look, no one really cares how the goths and geeks pair up, or even if they do. It's all about getting the best dates, being the one everyone wants to be. But not everyone wants the same thing."

"Dawn wanted what you had," Lisa said, smugly, as she picked at her food. Eating it seemed out of the question, given Good Times' less-than-stellar reputation, but it was there, so she had to do something.

Sandi, on the other hand, made no attempt to acknowledge her food, such as it was, as she thought. "Not really," she finally said. "She wanted what she thought I had. And she wanted to take down Quinn." For a moment, Sandi's expression turned feral. "I can sympathize with that."

"So why did you let Quinn in the Fashion Club in the first place?" Lisa asked, forgetting herself enough to start bringing the fork to her mouth, before realizing the horrible mistake she was about to make.

Sandi grimaced—whether at the question or the thought of actually eating the food was unclear. "It seemed the best strategy. Keep her under my thumb; don't let her build up a rival source of power. But it all got away from me after that stupid switch she pulled." The plastic fork, forgotten in her hand, snapped as she clenched her fists. "A mistake I do not intend to make again."

"So what does that have to do with talking to geeks and outcasts?"

"It's like I said," Sandi sighed. "Everyone wants to be number one, but not everyone wants to be number one of the same thing. Take Quinn's sister, for example."

"Do I have to?" Lisa said.

Sandi ignored her. "It's pretty obvious Daria wasn't popular because she didn't want to be. She wants to be the smartest or the geekiest, or whatever. Why should I care if she does? I want to be the most fashionable, the most unattainable. And I was. I don't need to control Daria, because she's not part of my world."

"So you want to let Daria be Queen geek?"

"She can rot." Sandi snarled. "I'm never trusting a Morgendorffer again."

"Whoa, whoa," Lisa raised her hands at Sandi's vehemence. "So what do you want?"

"Easy," Sandi said, her former calm returning. "Parcel up the school. The fashion plates and social climbers to me, the cheerleaders and jock girls to you, the school spirit kids to someone else, and the outcasts to someone else. We'll probably never have to worry about each other, but if we do, the four of us can get together. We can get one or two of the smarter guys on our side, to make it all run smooth."

"And Dawn?" Lisa asked, after a thoughtful pause.

"She can join Quinn at the bottom of the social order," Sandi smirked.

Lisa returned the smirk, and rubbed her chin. "I think I know just the candidate four Outcast Queen."

* * *

"So," Quinn said into the phone, "Lisa and Sandi are teaming up. Good to know."

The voice on the other end of the line said, "How does this affect your own plans?"

"If anything, it'll probably help," Quinn said. "The more confusion, the better. You know what to do."

"Stay close."

"Exactly," Quinn said, and hung up. Time to talk to Daria. We have to put the next phase into motion.

Wednesday

Jane always made a point of hitting a coffee shop on the way to school. If she'd ever stopped to think about it, she'd have said that anyone at Lawndale who wanted to know her habit did know it. Until a couple of weeks ago, the membership of that group was Daria, so she never worried about it. And even though the group was potentially much bigger now, she had no expectation of being ambushed, coffee in hand, a block from the shop.

"If I spilled my coffee..." she growled as she regained her balance after being yanked into the bushes along a side street.

Zoe, who had done the yanking, looked apologetic. "Sorry. Daria told me to talk to you."

Jane scowled, to hide her surprise, "Did she also tell you that getting between me and my coffee is taking your life in your hands?"

"No," said Zoe, traces of fear in her expression giving the lie to her glib tone, "but I'll keep it in mind."

Jane took a long slug from her unspilled cup as she regarded the cheerleader in front of her. Not too long ago—like yesterday—she'd have cheerfully taken Zoe apart, but a curious conversation she'd had with Daria changed her mind. She wasn't sure which was weirder, that Zoe broke down and asked Daria to forgive her or that Daria not only did, but comforted her. Well, I'm already through the rabbit hole. May as well see where it leads. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"You said you wanted to talk to me. Well, talk."

"Oh." For a second, Zoe looked confused and shy, like the third grader she'd been when Jane first met her. They'd never been friends, but they'd gotten along through elementary school. High school, with its complications and caste system, was a different story. "Well, Daria said I should talk to you if I wanted to help take Dawn down. And I didn't want to make anyone suspicious."

"Yes," Jane said with an ironic smile. "Yanking me into the bushes is perfectly normal behavior that won't attract any attention."

Zoe flushed. "It was the best I could come up with. It's not like I could come up to you after third period and give you a hug."

"True," Jane said. "The good citizens of Lawndale are less likely to be interested in what two teenage girls have to say to each other than the not-so-good citizens of Lawndale High." She gave Zoe a considering look. "Why?" she finally asked.

Conflicting emotions crossed Zoe's face. Jane guessed she was decided whether to play coy, a suspicion that was confirmed when her chin firmed and she spoke with brutal honesty. "Why change sides why my side is winning, you mean?" Jane merely nodded, waiting for her to continue.

Zoe grimaced. "I didn't like what went on, even though I played a big part in it. Actually, because I played a big part in it. Look, Dawn's hated Quinn since she got here, and the other Clubbies even before that. I could understand that, and I got caught up in it." She paused, talking a deep breath. "Actually, Daria even said that. From what little I can see, she's actually a pretty amazing person. I know I couldn't do what she did, if our roles were reversed." A heavy sigh escaped her. "And I hurt her. And I hurt Taylor, who's always been a good friend. I didn't like that, and Dawn knew I didn't like it. She punished me for it. I sold my friend out, and didn't even get my thirty pieces of silver."

"I hope," Jane said slowly, digesting everything Zoe had said, "that you haven't come to me for redemption. I'm a little short on miracles."

"I know," said Zoe, suddenly forlorn. "I'm just looking for some good guys. I know who the bad guys are."

There are bad guys everywhere you look, Jane thought. To Zoe, she said, "I don't know, Zoe. Quinn and Daria are trying to do some good things, I think, but some pretty vile things are going have to go down if we we're going to win. You saw how savage Quinn was with Brooke." At Zoe's nod, Jane continued. "Quinn on the side of the angels is still using the same playbook. Are you okay with the ends justifying the means?"

"I think so," Zoe said after a pause. "Just... don't make me hurt people I care about. Dawn's got to come down, I know, but the rest of the cheerleaders are my friends."

Jane nodded. "I suppose I can see that. But there are other people we need to get at. For instance, Daria said you spoke to Skylar Feldman before you spoke to her?"

Zoe's expression suddenly grew vicious. "I did," she said in a cold voice. "And I don't think I'll have any problem hurting him.

* * *

Angela Li was conflicted on this Wednesday morning as she sat in her office waiting for the homeroom bell to ring. On the one hand, she was deeply amused at the antics of her students, who continued to believe, despite the wealth of security equipment easily visible throughout the school, that empty classrooms were safe places for private conversations. Miss Morgendorffer and Miss Becker's little scene was particularly touching.

On the other hand, she was disconcerted by the sudden upsurge in "private conversations." Angela Li liked order, and the Morgendorffer sisters had shown her with their little switcheroo how tenuous that order was. Installing Dawn as her direct agent had been her solution to that problem, but now cracks in the new order were showing, and she had to decide whether to shore it up or create yet another one.

Adding to this was the conversation between Mr. DeMartino and Ms. Morris. Leaving aside their worrisome cryptic language, the two hated each other and always had. Clearly, her staff was choosing sides in this renewal of hostilities, and she couldn't have that. Further back in her mind was the possibility that their machinations were somehow aimed at her, but she dismissed those fears. I have plenty of time to crush them if that's their idea.

She stood, and moved toward the window, watching the stragglers arrive, among them Zoe Becker, Sandi Griffin, Lisa Monaco, and Jane Lane. She had a fairly good idea who was behind the sudden upswell in disturbances, and the sight of Jane Lane reinforced that suspicion. On the other hand, she thought, noting the two cheerleaders and the Fashion Clubber, I shouldn't limit my list of suspects.

She headed back to her desk and grabbed the intercom microphone. "Miss Dawn Wilkins to the Principal's Office. Dawn Wilkins to the Principal's Office."

Sitting back in her chair, she steepled her fingers. Let's see how this plays out. One of them will stick their neck out, and I'll be there to chop the head off.

* * *

Evan's heart thumped as he walked through the hall after first period. He had a job to do, and it wasn't one he was comfortable with. To add to his anxiety, he couldn't do the job until someone approached him, which meant he had to wait. And I hate waiting. Of course, I waited for Jane. But I didn't like it.

And now, he reflected as he reached his locker, he was about to do something else he didn't like. It's for Jane, he told himself, as he struggled to open the lock. Looking down, he noticed his hands were shaking. As he tried to steady himself, a familiar whine penetrated his consciousness. Corey. Perfect.

"What's up, Larson?" Dawn's flunky greeted Evan with false cheer.

He knows I hate him, Evan thought. "Not much," he grunted. Even knew he could trust Corey not to take the hint.

Sure enough, Corey didn't. "That's not what I head."

"Oh?" Evan said with an obvious irritation that he didn't have to fake.

"You and Lane," the other boy leered. "I hear you're getting hot and heavy."

"And I hear you're about to get a beatdown if you don't stop acting like a jackass," Evan retorted.

"Hey, man!" Corey whined. "I'm just trying to congratulate you."

"You know, Corey," Evan said. "I don't think Dawn's taking good care of you. I thought the whole point of trailing after her was to get laid, yet you still come off like a horny middle schooler who hasn't even seen a Playboy."

"Ha ha," Corey said sourly. "I'm getting mine, believe me, just like you're getting yours with Lane."

"I'm warning you, Corey." Evan clenched his fists ostentatiously. Though really, it's not like I need to act. I'd like to punch the little shit into next week.

"C'mon, man. Now that she's ditched Morgendorffer, I'll be she's wild in bed. All those arty chicks are."

Evan slammed his fist into his locker, only partly for show. "Shut the fuck up, Corey! It's not like we're even dating anymore." Angry as he was, he barely remembered to slap on a fake "horrified I just said too much" expression.

"No way, man. Sorry."

"Not as sorry as I am. And not as sorry as you'll be if you tell anyone." Evan caught Corey's eyes. "You understand?"

Corey nodded and swallowed. "I understand," he said and scurried off.

I understand, too. I understand you'll just be sneaky about telling people. I just hope Jane and the Morgendorffers know what they're doing.

* * *

Lisa caught up to Dawn after third period. "I think you need to muzzle Angie and Nikki," she said, without preamble. "They're both in danger of jamming a foot into their mouths all the way up to the hips. Or," she added thoughtfully, "chewing each other's faces off. Either way, it can't be good."

Dawn, who was well aware of the Angie/Nikki hostilities and had already had a brutal grilling by Li, was not in the mood and told Lisa in no uncertain terms.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help, Dawn," Lisa said. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

"You're supposed to do what I tell you, LIsa," Dawn growled, dire threats implicit in her tone, "and I told you I"m not in the mood right now."

"Suit yourself," Lisa said, tone level, "but I think you'd better get in the mood. You're the one who wants to rule the school."

"And apparently you're the one who wants to see what happens when you cross the one who rules the school." The dire threats were now explicit in Dawn's tone.

Lisa shrugged. "Not me. I've got nothing to gain and everything to lose, right?"

"Keep that in mind," Dawn said. "Now get lost. I need to think." As Lisa left, Dawn regarded the spot where she'd been with suspiction. I don't like it. FIrst Zoe gets unreliable, then Angie and Nikki are no use because they're fighting over Kevin, and now Lisa seems to be off the reservation. My tools are breaking around me. Maybe I need some new ones.

Lisa's path meanwhile had taken her right to Sandi, who wore an evil smile. "How did she react?" she asked the top-knotted cheerleader.

"Like the bitch she is," Lisa snarled. "I'll be so glad when we break her."

"Specifics, Lisa," Sandi said, tone sharp. "We already know she's a bitch."

"She didn't want to hear a word. I'm guessing Li took her apart this morning, so she's focused on herself." Lisa said, not at all apologetic. "She probably suspects I'm up to something, though. She'll probably be making new cheerleaders by next week."

"Doesn't matter," Sandi said. "We're going to move fast enough that nothing she does will matter."

Lisa nodded, her smirk growing to match Sandi. The two girls took off in opposite directions. Neither noticed a flash of red hair from a nearby doorway.

"Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble," Quinn said to herself as she headed to class in the others' wake. "Hey! Daria was right. Shakespeare really can be fun. Of course, Machiavelli can be more fun."

* * *

Skylar ducked out of study hall ten minutes early. He liked to be seen whenever possible, and already being in the halls when the other students got out was a big help. He'd been disappointed in the new girl. She wasn't nearly as hot to trot as he'd hoped, and he didn't like to exert himself too much. Still, he was willing to put some work in. They were going out again over the weekend. But that left a three-day space on his dance card.

Jane Lane walked by, runner's legs looking good in short shorts. Skylar let his eyes follow her for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face.

A smoky voice behind him said, "Like what you see?"

The scent of incense touched his nose, so he was unsurprised to find Burnout Girl there him when he turned. "So what if I do, BG?" He knew her name was Jen, but he hadn't thought of her as anything but Burnout Girl since they were freshman.

"No reason," Jen said, with a toss of her blonde hair, that for a moment revealed a pretty face. "Just surprised that art-freak Jane Lane caught your eye."

Idly, Skylar wondered why she hid behind her hair. Not that he planned to do anything about it. She was way beneath him on the food chain. Besides, he'd had her all the way back in eighth grade. He gave her a leer. "Jane Lane's moving up the food chain. If she wants to sample what's on the buffet, who am I to say no?"

"I suppose," Jen said. "But she's all into Runner Boy Evan."

Skylar gave her an amused look. "You seem very up on who's doing what, for an outcast."

"Well, we outcasts like to know when one of us becomes popular."

Scorn showed in Skylar's voice. "So you can imitate her? I don't think you can run that fast."

"So we know what not to do," she returned, not bothered by his tone. "But we were talking about you, and Lane. And Runner Boy. Don't you think he'll be a problem?"

Actually, if Corey was to be believed, Evan wouldn't be a problem at all, but Skylar wasn't about to miss a chance to build himself up. "What's that got to do with anything, Burnout? If a guy knows what he wants and goes after it, a boyfriend don't mean shit."

"Whatever," she said, and walked away. I can't believe I talked to that piece of shit. Quinn owes me big time for this.

* * *

So far, it had been a very confusing day for TIffany. In addition to her classes, which alone were usually enough to set her head spinning, she'd seen a number of unusual things. She went to meet Sandi after third period only to find her talking to a red-haired goth girl. When she tried to say hello, Sandi had glared at her and waved her away.

In the old days, she would have gone right to Quinn to find out what was going on, but no one talked to Quinn anymore. She felt bad about that sometimes. Sandi had always said that Quinn looked down on her, but Tiffany never really noticed it. Sure, Quinn was impatient sometimes, but so was Sandi, and Quinn at least was nice most of the time.

Now, she was supposed to talk to Kelly about those things, but Kelly was talking to to Lisa. She waited politely for Lisa to finish, but as soon as she did, Kelly took off, without even saying hello. Kelly, she thought, was much nicer before she got into the Fashion Club. Lisa, on the other hand, had never been nice. After she was done talking to Kelly, she just gave Tiffany a nasty look and walked into the Student Council offices, which were right there.

She supposed that the next person she should talk to was Dawn, but Dawn wasn't in the lunchroom when she got there. Neither were Nikki and Angie. just the football players. And she wasn't going to tell a bunch of boys, even if they cared, which they wouldn't. To give her whirling head a rest, she sat down away from the popular crowd. She ate quietly until the seat next to her was filled by Stacy Rowe.

"Uh... Stacy," she said, "I'm happy to see you and all, but I don't think I'm supposed to talk to you."

"It's okay, Tiff," Stacy said with her usual nervous style. "Sandi talked Dawn into letting me talk to popular people again."

Tiffany thought about this for a minute. "Oh, good," she finally said. "I miss talking to you."

"I miss talking to you too, Tiff." Stacy said.

"And I need to talk to someone. Really weird things are going on today, but no one will let me talk to them about it."

"Oh?" Stacy looked interested. Of course, Stacy always looked interested. Tiffany was sure she was faking some of the time, but she was good at looking interested, so TIffany never knew when she was faking. As long as she acts interested, and I think she's interested, that's good enough. I think.

"Well, I went to meet Sandi for third-period touch-up and she was talking to one of the loser goth girls."

"Andrea?" Stacy asked. At Tiffany's blank look. she added. "The heavyset girl with the fishnet gloves. With black hair."

"No," Tiffany said, realizing who Stacy meant. "The other one. The one with red hair and that weird shaped necklace."

"Oh. Scarlett," Stacy said.

"Gee," Tiffany said. "You sure know your geeks."

Stacy's smile went a little sour. "Well, I was one for two months, Tiff. But Sandi talking to Scarlett? That doesn't make sense."

"I know. That funky necklace is so unfashionable."

"Unless—" Stacy began, and stopped. Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. "That's what Sandi meant." She stood. "Listen, Tiff, I gotta go."

"But I didn't get to tell you about Kelly or Dawn?"

"Later. I promise," Stacy said, as she turned. "In the meantime, don't tell anyone anything, OK?"

Tiffany nodded, and Stacy sped off. With a sigh, Tiffany went back to eating, as confused as ever.

* * *

Dawn wasn't at lunch because she was holding an emergency meeting of the cheerleaders in their changing room and by "emergency meeting" she meant dressing down. Shit rolls downhill, right? Li was right. She had let things get out of hand, but that was about to change.

"Where are the others?" Zoe asked, apprehensively. Only she, Lisa, Angie, and Nikki were there. The other three cheerleaders were nowhere to be found.

"I'll talk to them later," Dawn said coldly. "I wanted to talk to you four, since it's you four that most concern me." She started with Angie and Nikki. "Okay. We've had two solid days of you two fighting over the QB. That's over." At their protests, she continued. "Kevin is officially off limits to both of you. If the pair of you are going to fight like a pair of five-year-olds over the same doll, I'm going to take it away from you. In fact," she added with evil inspiration. "Your mission for the rest of the week is to get him back together with Brittany."

Angie wailed, "That's not fair!" while Nikki just stared in shock.

"Listen, brainless," Dawn snarled, right in Angie's face, "we're not interested in fair. We're interested in staying on top. And if you and the other idiot can't present a united front, we can kiss the top spot goodbye, and you can start dating the guys in the Chess Club."

Angie and Nikki made frightened noises of agreement as Dawn turned to Lisa. "Now you," she said in a calm voice, "don't have an intelligence problem. You have an obedience problem."

Lisa regarded her with a stone face and said nothing.

Dawn met Lisa's eyes with studied coolness. "That stops. Now." When Lisa didn't respond, Dawn continued, "I appreciate that you kept the gruesome twosome," she gestured to Angie and Nikki, "from baring their claws where everyone can see them, but decisions will be made by me. If there's a problem, bring it to me and I'll fix it." She gave Angie and Nikki another menacing glare. "And there won't be any problems." The two shrank back further, if possible. "Now, I want you to go around to the jock girls track team, volleyball team, girls basketball and make sure they're still with the program. Got it?"

Lisa nodded. "I know what to do."

Dawn missed the sudden glint in Lisa's eye, as she'd already turned to her next target, with a most unpleasant smile. "And finally, we come to Zoe, who I don't think has an obedience problem at all." She stepped toward the blond girl, putting them face to face. "I think she has a loyalty problem." She took a strand of Zoe's hair and caressed it. "Do you have a loyalty problem, Zoe?" she asked in a soft voice. "Because if you do, tell me now and I'll kick you off the squad and that will be the end of it. But if I find out you've backstabbed me," she continued, her voice growing deeper, more sinister, "I will make the rest of your high school career a living hell."

Zoe shuddered, but met Dawn's eyes. "There's no problem," she finally said, keeping her voice steady.

"Good," Dawn said. "Now get the fuck away from me. And no more screwups."

* * *

Quinn was avoiding mirrors today. True, her plots were all bubbling along nicely, but the things she was doing (or having people do) were making it hard to look herself in the face without feeling nauseous. The conversation she'd had with Joey had been particularly rough.

He'd seemingly appeared at her locker after sixth period. "Hello, Quinn." The words had a quiet intensity that made her look in spite of herself.

"Hi, Joey," she said, trying to sound light, and failing. His gaze, once so adoring and insipid, had grown steely, and she was unsettled by the change. "Haven't seen you in awhile."

"You said you needed space," he said, eyes boring into her. "So I gave it to you. But now I see things going on again, and I can't help but wonder what you wanted that space for."

"Where are Jeffy and Jameel?" She knew damn well where they were, and Jamie's name in the bargain, but she hoped the change in subject might throw Joey off. Besides, she wasn't going to give away the game right away.

"Sucking up to Dawn to get at the cheerleaders and their hangers-on." A look of disgust crossed Joey's face. "Some of them are really easy, and apparently, Jeffy and Jamie don't mind Bret Strand's sloppy seconds."

Quinn wrinkled her nose, revolted. If there was ever a good reason not to give it up in High School, there it is. I'm glad I've stayed off their scorecards.

"Enough of the cutesy crap, Quinn," Joey's voice was rough, but low. "Mack said you wanted Kevin to break up with Brittany. Now you owe me an explanation."

"Why?" Quinn said, suddenly totally alert to possible betrayal. Or a possible tool.

"For a year of following you around," he said, a wry cast to his expression. "For gifts and dinners I couldn't afford. And mostly for not dropping you like Jamie and Jeffy did as soon as you stopped being popular. Are you planning on taking the top spot?"

Quinn sensed the anger in him, and that it wasn't aimed at her. With knowledge came decision. "No," she said softly. "I'm aiming to take it down."

Joey's eyes widened in shock. "Not shooting low, are you?" After a beat, he added, "How can I help?"

The new piece on the board slotted together with the intelligence she'd received as if they were pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Which I suppose they are. "Make sure Kevin doesn't get back with Brittany. In fact, start paying attention to Brittany. See if you can get Jeffy and Jamie interested."

A frown creased his face. "More head games, Quinn? Seems a little cruel to me."

A sigh escaped Quinn. "It's what I'm best at. And to beat the devil, sometimes you have to become him, or her." At his curious glance, she added. "My sister has all those horrible philosophy books about staring into the abyss and annihilation. She's been quoting them at me for two straight months." She hoped he was clever enough to pick up on what she couldn't put into words—the scope of the plan and how much information she was trusting him with.

To her relief, he did. "We'll play it your way. But I'll be very angry if I find you at the top of the same pecking order when we're done." A sudden fire lit his eyes. "And I don't think I'll be the only one." With that he disappeared, leaving Quinn to deal with a sudden burning in her stomach that had nothing to do with lunch.

* * *

Jodie was uncomfortable. The last couple of periods of the day had been punctuated by chaos. She'd walked past two fights in the hallways, one between Jamie and Jeffy, and one between Kevin and Jeffy. She'd heard that Kevin had been in at least one other fight and Brittany had been the reason. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I know it can't be good for Brittany.

Seeing Daria ahead of her in the hall, she hurried to catch up. "A word?" she said softly.

Daria raised an eyebrow and responded just as softly, "Are we even supposed to be speaking?"

Jodie steered Daria to her locker. "I'm the African-American Poster Child. I can speak to anybody."

"Careful, Jodie." Daria smiled. "Your sarcastic side is showing."

Jodie frowned. "My angry side is going to be showing soon. Do you have any idea what's going on?" She gestured as another fight broke out. This time, Jamie had taken a swing at Joey, who ducked the punch and disappeared. Instead, Jamie connected with Robert and the two were going at it hammer and tongs.

Daria watched impassively for a minute, until Mr. DeMartino appeared to break things up. "Not a clue. These are either side effects or the result of some very clever misdirection."

"And you don't know which?" Jodie asked.

"I can follow the moves," Daria sighed. "But I've learned I can't play the game."

"Well, can you make sure Brittany doesn't get any more hurt than she already is?" Jodie asked, as DeMartino dragged the erstwhile combatants past, a hand clamped firmly on each boy's neck.

"I'll do my best," Daria said and looked down. "But I'm not sure where the train is coming from, so it's going to be hard to pull anyone off the tracks."

* * *

Elsewhere, Lisa couldn't believe her good fortune. Not only had she made contact with the jock girls, as she and Sandi had planned, she'd done it on Dawn's orders. Sucker, she thought. By the time she figures out she's been had, it'll all be over.

Spying Stacy Rowe, she signaled the other girl. Stacy, not quite as dumb as she looked, meandered down the hall in an aimless sort of way that happened to carry her toward a bathroom—the one that Lisa entered a few seconds later.

Seeing no one else visible as she entered, Lisa mouthed "Check the stalls." Stacy did, quickly and efficiently. "No one here," she said in a low voice.

"Good," Lisa returned. "I've got a message for You Know Who, and I want you to pass it along." Stacy nodded, only her doe eyes showing any sign of nerves.

"Tell her I got a nice piece of camouflage that let me make contact right in the open. We're all set for tonight. Same time, same place." She gave Stacy a threatening look. "You got that?"

Stacy nodded again. "Got camo, made contact, all set for tonight, same time, same place."

"Good. You go first. I'll be out in a minute." As Stacy left, Lisa took the opportunity to use the bathroom for the purpose it was intended. When she left, she had a smile on her face and a spring in her step that would have put the fear of God into anyone who knew her.

* * *

Angie and Nikki meantime were having a hard time. They knew that Kevin was jealous where Brittany was concerned, so the sudden spate of guys following her should have played right into their hands. In a sense it did, since Kevin was now on the warpath for anyone who even looked at Brittany. But the three fights he'd already gotten into had put him out of their reach. Ms. Li had been finally been forced to take notice of her star QB's behavior, and Kevin had been pulled out of his last class and sent to detention.

Without Kevin to work on, the logical target was Brittany, but Brittany wasn't having anything to do with them. Every time they tried to get close to her, she left, though Nikki had overheard her saying that the fighting wasn't impressing her.

As a last gasp, they decided to work on the football team. Angie spoke to JIm the linebacker. "C'mon, Jim. What could it hurt if Kevin dates Brittany? They've been together for so long."

"I dunno, Angie. The rule works well for all of us. The football players get to date cheerleaders and the cheerleaders get to date football players."

"What about Mack? He doesn't date a cheerleader."

"Mack's different," Jim said in a tone that accepted no argument. "Besides, Jodie's as popular as a cheerleader anyway."

"But Brittany's still popular," Angie wheedled. "Just because she's not on the squad, doesn't mean she's not still a hottie. Some of the guys seem to be making moves on her."

"True," Jim said. "Maybe we should talk to the team."

Nikki, whose target had been the unfortunate Robert, could only nod her head when Angie told her of the conversation.

* * *

And everyone heard Ms. Li's voice over the loudspeaker, "Miss Morgendorffer to the Principal's Office! Miss Quinn Morgendorffer to the Principal's Office!" But not everyone guessed what it meant.

* * *

"Have a seat, Miss Morgendorffer," Ms. Li said, as Quinn opened the door.

She needs a cat, Quinn thought, as she found herself under Ms. Li's cold eyes. Preferably a Persian or a Siamese. Like that guy in the James Bond movies. Blowjob or something. Ew.... She met Ms. Li's eyes again. Focus, Quinn, focus. You know what you have to do.

Ms. Li watched her squirm in silence for a long moment before speaking. "I assume you know why you're here."

"Um, I don't think so. I haven't cut a class in two months," Quinn said. "Since I stopped dating," she added with a grimace.

"Come, Quinn." Li's smile stretched unpleasantly. "There's no reason to lie."

Crap, Quinn thought. Don't underestimate her. She may be a petty tyrant, but she's been one for a long time, and that takes some doing. "Let's pretend I don't know why I'm here," she said carefully. "Then you can tell me what you want."

Ms. Li steepled her fingers. "Two months ago, your fall from grace put Dawn Wilkins in charge of the clique system at Lawndale. I had no involvement, but it has been in my... interest to see the new system perpetuated. And for two months, it was."

"And what does that have to do with me?" Quinn asked. "I'm the lowest of the low, right now. Even Daria won't be seen with me."

"I find that hard to believe," the older woman snorted. "There's been an upsurge of chaos in the school this week. I hate chaos, Miss Morgendorffer, but I understand it. I can tell this isn't random, and I'd be willing half my salary that you and your sister are behind it."

I hope I'm right, I hope I'm right, I hope I'm right, Quinn thought, even as she affected nonchalance. "It's an interesting theory, Ms. Li. Complete nonsense, but interesting. And I suppose you're going to give me detention or expel me?"

"On the contrary, Miss Morgendorffer," Ms. Li said, "I believe in Social Darwinism. I want order in this school. Miss Griffin failed to provide it and now Miss Wilkins has failed to provide it. If you can show me that you'll provide it, you'll have my full backing."

Elation leapt inside Quinn, but she damped it down lest Ms. Li notice. She opted to fish for more information instead. "Wait, you're saying Sandi knew you were backing her, and that's why the Fashion Club was so popular?"

"I had not, ah, codified my relationship to the teen power structure when Miss Griffin was at the top of it with you at her side. I felt a more covert approach was beneficial." The principal's expression hardened. "I was wrong. I was also wrong about Miss Wilkins. She has the requisite ruthlessness, but her intelligence is sadly lacking. You, Miss Morgendorffer, despite your regrettable lapse of two months ago, have both, especially if you've somehow managed to gain your sister's support."

"So you're offering me the top of the food chain?" Quinn asked.

"If you can take it, it's yours."

"And if I don't?"

Ms. Li's smile was downright sinister. "The rumor mill will soon know of our agreement, whether we have one or not. By tomorrow morning, you'll be marked for success or destruction, so I suggest you choose success."

* * *

Back at the Good Times Chinese Restaurant, Sandi reflected that plotting was very good for dieting. She looked down at what might have been sweet and sour pork, or the stuff that Fluffy left in her litter box, and knew she was missing dinner for the second day in row. Lisa, sitting opposite her, had a tolerant expression on her face, but the other girls were less than pleased.

Scarlett fingered the ankh around her neck and glared at Sandi. "If this is your idea of a bribe, Griffin, you need more practice. Your company and inedible food is not my idea of a good night out."

"Patience, Scarlett," Lisa said. "We'll get to business in a minute."

The other girl, Melinda, gave Scarlett a cold look. Jodie Landon, as president of the Student Council, would have been the logical choice for the fourth part of the group, but Jodie was held to be above popularity games and was also a little too close to Daria for comfort. Melinda was Jodie's Vice-President and less than enamored of always being the understudy, which made her a logical choice. Turning to Sandi, she said, "What are we waiting for?"

Just then, Stacy Rowe came bursting into the restaurant. "Sorry I'm late," she panted. "Did I miss anything?"

"No, Stacy," Sandi said calmly. "We're just about to get started."

Melinda stared. "We've been waiting for Stacy Rowe? Are we having a cryathon?"

"I though you said this was going to be interesting, Griffin," Scarlett growled.

"Oh, it will," Lisa said, keeping Sandi from having to respond. "But if you're not willing to wait, you're welcome to go. We'll find someone else to work with."

"Work with?" Scarlett asked, clearly intrigued despite herself. "Why would I want to work with you on anything?"

"Not even on running the school?" Sandi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Running the school?" Melinda asked. She too was suddenly interested. "I thought that was for the Clubbies and the cheerleaders."

"Well," Lisa said, "why should we work against each other? We've tried that, and it's just led to a lot of mistakes and bad feelings. But if we work together, we can all be happy."

"And what's in it for us?" Scarlett asked. "I don't give a shit what the Clubbies or the cheerleaders do."

"Exactly my point, Scarlett dear," Sandi said with a smug smile. "And I don't give care about the artists and the outcasts and whatever. So why not work with someone who does? I'm sure you could benefit from running the quarter of the school you care about." Turning to Melinda, she added, "And I know you're tired of playing second fiddle, or you wouldn't be here. And with a little help, you could find yourself in charge of everything you care about: the grown-up bullshit and the social side. There are lots of guys that fall outside the circle of the Fashion Club and the cheerleaders who are still eminently datable."

"And how am I supposed to get past Jodie?" Melinda asked.

"Well," Lisa said, with an evil smile, "as long as we're pulling Dawn down, we can take a few more with us."

Melinda subsided into thoughtful silence, as Scarlett spoke up again. "I still don't see what's in it for me."

"Come on, Scarlett," Sandi said. Some things Lisa had told her earlier stood her in good stead. "Even if you're not interested in dating a better class of guy, you must be interested in putting someone in their place. As one of the Queen Bees, you'll own all the outcast girls." She was rewarded by Scarlett's slow, and very unpleasant, smile.

"So, we each take a quarter of the school?" Melinda said.

Sandi nodded. "The jock crowd to Lisa, the debutants to me, the school activity types to you, and the ah..., creative types to Scarlett.

"Who's the boss?"

"No boss," Sandi said. "If there's any overlap or any serious threats, we can get together and talk about it, but otherwise, we'll run it like four equal and separate areas. Li won't care as long as we don't fight among ourselves."

"If there's four of us," Scarlett gestured at Stacy, who gave a weak smile, "what's she doing here?"

"Courier," Lisa said. "We all know who she is, and her status is a little weird right now, so no one will be suspicious if she talks to any of us."

Sandi nodded. "Even Dawn won't notice. Time to choose," she added. "Are you two in?"

Silence stretched until an evil smile grew on Melinda's face and then a matching one on Scarlett's. "Excellent," Sandi said, her own smile even more sinister than theirs. "Let's get started."

* * *

"So let me get this straight, Quinn," Helen said, hands on her hips in her most authoritative courtroom pose. "You and your sister have been causing trouble around the school to get back at the cheerleader who hurt you two months ago."

Quinn nodded.

"And Ms. Li, instead of punishing you, offered to make you the most popular girl in the school if you'll act worse than the cheerleader you're trying to take down."

"Well, when you put it that way," Daria said, from her perch on the couch next to Quinn, but Helen cut her off.

"Quiet. I'm not done with Quinn yet." If I didn't know that Li, I'd swear Quinn was out of her head. Fixing her younger daugher with Patented Lawyer Stare Number Four, she said. "And you're telling me this because..."

"Because it has to stop," Quinn almost wailed. "I don't want to be the Queen Bee. I don't want there to be a Queen Bee. I just want to be left alone to make normal friends and go on normal dates."

Well, there's at least some truth in there. Let's see how much. "I'd think you'd want to get back on top, Quinn. After all, that's where you were before."

"Being on the bottom gives you really good perspective on how awful being on top makes you," Quinn said.

"And what's your role in this?" Helen fixed Daria with the same Patented Lawyer Stare.

"Helping Quinn," Daria said. "Revenge may not be the best motivation, but I was hurt very badly two months ago. Making the people who hurt me suffer might not fix that, but I'll take what I can get. And if she brings down the whole corrupt system, so much the better."

"And what do you want from me?" Helen asked. "My approval is immaterial, since I doubt you'd stop even if I asked you to. So I'm guessing you want my help."

"We wouldn't ask if we didn't need it, Mom." Daria said.

"It's just that Ms. Li's directly involved in propping up the system," Quinn added. "Which means it's not just a student thing anymore, so we need adult help."

"We certainly didn't expect this to happen," Daria finished.

Of course not, Helen thought. You just hoped it would. Gaming the system to take down a corrupt authority. It appeals to both my lawyer side and my hippie side. Suddenly, she smiled beatifically at her daughters. "So what do you need me to do?"

"Well," Quinn said, "it all depends on your... connections." As Quinn spoke, Helen's smile became almost sinister.

* * *

Later that night, Daria lay on her bed, Kafka open in front of her. Her attempts to read, however, were thwarted by the turmoil in her mind. Quinn's plan was ready to move into overdrive, and Daria was having second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts. We're even playing Mom. She sighed.

A knock on the door startled her, but before she could rise, Quinn stepped in. "We should talk," the redhead said without preamble.

"Sure, Quinn," Daria responded, confused, "but we've been doing nothing but talking for two months."

"I know," Quinn said as she down on the bed, Daria straightening up to make room. "It's just that—" Her voice broke, "I'm not sure I can do this."

"Uh," Daria started to say, but was interrupted by the flood of Quinn's tears. For the third time in as many days, she found herself awkwardly comforting someone crying on her shoulder. She murmured soothing nonsense, wondering how long it had been since she'd done something like this for Quinn. Well, there was that time she wanted plastic surgery. But she didn't cry and it didn't turn out too well. And of course, she did this for me two months ago.

Quinn raised her head as the tears started to slow. "Look at me, Daria," she whispered, voice raw. "I realized how horrible I was, and to try to stop it, I became even worse."

"At least this time your intentions are good," Daria said, and sounded lame even to herself.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Quinn quoted and sighed. "Will I ever get to stop playing puppetmaster? First it was boys, and then it was Brooke, and now it's everyone. Even Mom. I can't believe I just lied my head off to pull our mother into a high school plot."

"Funny, it never seemed to bother you before," Daria said, but softened the sarcasm with a smile.

"That was different, and you know it. You're supposed to try to get around your parents as a teenager. But you're not supposed to use them."

"If it's any comfort Quinn," Daria said, realizing the truth of her words as she spoke them, "I don't think we fooled Mom. She wanted to help, so she let us pull her in."

"I suppose." Quinn looked down. "But what if I want to stop? What if I'm tired of lying."

"Well," Daria said, surprised at how much Quinn's words echoed her own feelings. "Only you can make that choice. I'll back you up either way, but you have to decide whether the ends justify the means."

"Yeah," Quinn said. "But why does it have to be me?"

"You saw something that needed fixing and you tried to fix it. That's never easy."

"And you backed me up, even though I've never given you reason to want to help me."

"You're my sister, Quinn. And I agree with you. That's enough. But we can always decide the price is too high." Daria met Quinn's eyes, brown boring into green.

"But what if the price is too high to stop?" Quinn whispered after a long silence.

"Then we soldier on," Daria said, just as softly. "And we pick up what's left of our souls when we're done."

Quinn nodded. "Then we soldier on." In a little girl voice, a voice Daria hadn't heard in years, she added, "Do you mind if I sleep in here tonight?

"I'll get the sleeping pad," Daria said.

Thursday

Stacy tried to avoid the voice calling up the stairs—her mother's voice. How nice it would be, she thought, to pull the covers back over her head and forget that she had to go to school, and back to the vicious back and forth powerplay she found herself trapped in. Nice, but not realistic.

Sure enough, her mother's voice came again. "Stacy, if you don't get down here, I'm coming up and dumping you out of bed!"

Stacy sighed and tossed aside the comforter. "I'm up, Mom! I'll be down in a minute!" Lowering her long legs to the floor, she stood and staggered to the bathroom. Stress, exhaustion, and pillow hair. I'll bet I look terrible. Sure enough, the mirror confirmed her judgment. Her face was blotchy and puffy, and the circles under her eyes told of a restless night. She stared at her reflection for a long moment and sighed. How did I get mixed up in this?

Her mother's voice again broke the reverie. "I'd better hear running water, young lady!"

Stacy shrugged, got into the shower and began her morning routine. Soup, moisturizer, shampoo, conditioner, and makeup all combined to make her look human. She gave her hair a quick blow dry and pulled it into the usual pigtails for ease of management. Then she headed downstairs, where a bowl of oatmeal awaited her.

She slid into her usual seat and her mother gave her a smile. "Good to see you, sleepyhead," her mom said. Stacy smiled back and began to eat, her mind still on her day. She knew what she had to do—for everyone who wants me to do something—but she still wasn't sure she could pull it off. It's not like I'm Matty Harry or anything. On the other hand, she'd learned alot in the last two months, like what it meant to be on the outside of the clique system and who her real friends were. Her jaw firmed. I can do this. And it will come right in the end.

She must have presented a strange picture with her teeth clenched around her spoon, because her mother gave her a very odd look. "Everything okay, honey?"

"Fine," Stacy said, relaxing her jaw and calming herself.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Stacy swallowed another spoonful of oatmeal before answering. "Nothing much. Just thinking about what I have to do at school today."

* * *

Quinn's morning was both more and less intense than Stacy's. She knew she had a crapload to do, but she also didn't have to hide anything. Daria and Helen were in the know and Jake was somewhere in orbit around planet Mad Dog, where they didn't let you have Rice Krispies even when you said you were scared of Grape Nuts.

She and Daria had talked until late, discussing how they were going to take into account Li's rumors and their plans for the day, but she couldn't resist asking again as her sister headed for the door, "Are you ready?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Daria replied as she pulled on her jacket. "You're the one who's got all the work."

"Just... you know," Quinn half-smiled as Daria headed out. Quinn herself would follow in fifteen minutes. They'd decided to let the rumors percolate before Quinn showed up. It meant some people would have time to plan, but others would work themselves into such a state that their masks would slip, something Quinn would find useful.

Plus, she had the wild card: Stacy. Of course, she's a little too wild, but I think she can handle it.

She felt eyes on her, and turned to find her mother giving her a speculative look. Her father's muted rants came from the kitchen.

"What do you think, Mom? Am I doing the right thing?"

"Well," Helen said, "my part's easy. Simple and elegant, which I like. And I'm sure you have a handle on your classmates." Her eyes met Quinn's. "But I don't think that's what you're asking."

"No," Quinn said softly. "I asked Daria, too."

"And what did she say?" Helen asked.

"She said only I can decide."

"Your sister is very wise sometimes," Helen said and sat. "I wish I could tell you you're doing the right thing and that all your choices are justified, but you know I can't. Sometimes, when you take on power, you lose. And sometimes," she continued, looking away, "even when you win, you become the thing you fought."

"The voice of experience?" Quinn asked, suddenly bold.

"Let's just say I know whereof I speak." Silence fell for a few moments until Quinn stood. "Time to go. Wish me luck."

"Good luck Quinn," Helen said and sighed.

"I love you, Mom," Quinn replied and was out the door.

* * *

Charles wasn't sure why he'd gotten in so early, except a suspicion that there were things to be learned. He wasn't disappointed. Daria's arrival shortly after his had been curious, but not especially noteworthy. Quinn's, however, promised to be interesting.

For one thing, the halls were already buzzing with rumors about Quinn: that she was taking over the Fashion Club or the whole school; that she'd been rehabilitated and was joining the cheerleaders; that Ms. Li was expelling her; that Ms. Li was helping her; and on and on.

Faces flashed in his vision, faces he could read like books. Jodie and Andrea were angry, Joey was thoughful, Brittany was sad, Kevin confused. Dawn looked ready to kill someone. And of course Jeffy and Jamie were still idiots.

Bret Strand was uncomfortable. Charles could tell because the other boy was standing opposite him, and Bret never bothered with anyone he wasn't planning on bedding. "So, what do you think of all this, Upchuck?"

"The same thing, I always think," he said with his usual leer. "So many lovely ladies to choose from, so little time. But then," he gave a slightly mocking bow, "you don't need me to point that out."

"True," Bret said with a chuckle, then got serious. "I mean about Quinn. Do you think she's dangerous again?"

Why are you asking me? Charles thought but didn't say. Instead, he continued the Upchuck pose. "All women are dangerous, unless you approach them the right way."

Bret shook his head and shrugged, as if clearing his mind. "You'd know, Upchuck," he said with a rough laugh and a none-too-friendly clap on Charles' shoulder. He drifted off, but not too far.

The hallway took on an attitude of waiting, since the object of the rumors had to be arriving soon, or risk detention. Sure enough, Quinn walked in, dressed in an attractive, if not especially daring outfit, dark slacks hugging her long legs below a cream top that came nearly to her neck, but drew attention to her figure. As if she needs to draw attention today. Someone already drew a bullseye on her.

If she was aware of it, Quinn was doing her best to ignore it, looking straight ahead, not avoiding meeting people's eyes, but not seeking contact either. "Just another day in the life," a dry female voice said behind him.

He wasn't surprised to find Daria behind him. "Do my ears deceive me or has the divine Miss Morgendorffer the elder deigned to address me? Can my dreams be coming true?" He rather hoped she would recoil and allow him to watch the drama unfold in peace.

Instead, she surprised him. "Can it, Charles. I have no time for the act today."

He blinked, but made no other movement. "Finally saw through it, huh?"

"I've had more reason to pay attention lately," she conceded. "And now, I think we should watch," she added, as Kelly and Tiffany descended on Quinn, followed by one of the jock girls, a softball player whose name Charles didn't remember. "It's not who comes," he muttered to himself. "It's who doesn't."

"Very good, Charles," Daria said. "Quinn said the same thing before we left the house."

His expression didn't change, but his mind whirled. "Why should that matter to me?"

"It shouldn't," Daria said, "but you're watching anyway. And you're bright enough to realize how little room Dawn leaves outside the pecking order."

"Am I being recruited?" he asked, after a moment's silence.

"Well, you're good enough, you're smart enough, and dammit, we can use you," Daria said with a rare smile. He liked her smile, but there wasn't much else about her he liked.

On the other hand, he liked Dawn and her cronies even less. "What's in it for me? Why will having Quinn be in charge be any different?"

"Who says Quinn will be in charge?" Daria chuckled.

"Surely not....." The words died on his lips. She can't be.... What would she do with it?

"Who says it has to be anyone? Think about it, Aragorn. But not where any pom-pom Nazgul can hear you." She slipped off as the bell for homeroom rang, and the crowd around Quinn dispersed.

Well, he thought as he walked, the Tolkien reference is apt. They'll have the element of surprise.

* * *

Anthony sat alone in his classroom, waiting for his second period class to arrive. He'd spent first period—a free period—dwelling on what he had to do during second period. Oh, it was simple enough, and there was logic to having him do it. It's always me that does it, though. He'd led the last union negotiations, which had been a disaster. Because they didn't back me up. He'd reached out to Morris; he'd gathered everything they needed. But it made sense. He was in the best position, and the rest of them were bloody useless. O'Neal was weak, Barch was crazy, DeFoe was flightly, and most of the others didn't care, except Bennett. And Diane is attached to Li at the hip.

The bell rang, and he laid a hand on the pile of test papers in front of him. Nice and easy. I just hope I guessed right. He was sure he had, though. He'd heard the rumors and seen how Daria looked at Dawn. And if he was going to bet on one of the overfed trust fund brats he taught, it would be Daria, whose predatory intellect was restrained only by apathy. And I think she's got a reason to care now.

As the students began to file in, he stood as he did every day, letting his eye bulge. It's a strange condition, but a useful put-on. Then his eyes fell on Kevin, face vacant above the ubiquitous shoulder pads, and his eye bulged involuntarily. Well, sometimes it's a put on. The bell rang, and his heart started to pound.

"Well," he growled, taking up the papers, 'I've graded your tests. And to no one's surprise, your performances were dismal. I'm tempted to throw them out, but it's my job to show you how poorly you've done." He moved up and down the columns of students, wordlessly passing out the tests, sparing a glare and an eye pop for those whose performances were truly laughable, such as Kevin. 11 wasn't much of a score, but at least he'd reached double digits.

When he came to Daria, he didn't spare her a look. And if her paper was a little heavier than the others, he felt sure no one would notice. The die is cast, he thought, as he handed out the last half-dozen tests. Now, we see.

As soon as he reached the front of the room, Daria's hand shot up. "Yes, Miss Morgendorffer?" he asked, while inwardly, he danced.

"I'd like to discuss my grade," she said, her voice holding the faintest anger.

"I don't see why. Everything looks in order to me," he said, as calmly as he could manage.

She didn't respond, only giving him a murderous glare, while some of her classmates looked at her oddly. Normally, he would have expected Jane Lane to lean across and make a comment, but Jane had moved her seat over a month ago. The sympathetic look she gave Daria suggested that the fight that had precipitated the move was over, or had been a put on to begin with. Which means Daria has allies. Which is a good thing.

Once the class had settled down after reviewing their grades, he began lecturing on the colonialist era at the end of the nineteenth century. In truth, though, he was having a hard time following his own words, since he'd just placed his teaching career in the hands of a seventeen-year-old girl. But Daria had clearly read and followed the post-it affixed to the front of her test—even to the point of not speaking after he set her down. Which means the information I gathered is in the hands of someone—or someone's mother—who can use it.

* * *

Helen couldn't suppress a small shudder as she approached the corner office door. Her task for Quinn and Daria was simple, true, but it did involve more than a little research. Not only did she need to find details on the school district, but also on who was dealing with the district, especially if it was someone at Vitale, Davis, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, Schrecter, and Schrecter. Her firm was the largest in the county, and had its hands in some pretty odd places.

The door swung open before she could knock and a deep male voice said, "Come in, Helen. I've been expecting you." Forcing down a frission of anxiety, she entered. The office was ornate, but not garish, with a soft carpet, a large mahogany desk with scrollwork on the legs, and matching leather chairs. Behind the desk sat a handsome man in his early sixties. A mane of gray hair topped a a long face, an aquiline nose, and a generous mouth that was smiling.

"Hello, Helen," Richard Riordan, the Riordan of Vitale, Davis, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, Schrecter, and Schrecter, gestured towards a seat. "Did you have a question for me?" Before she could move, she needed to talk to a partner. Eric was useless for this. All three Schrecters worked on mundane stuff: tax law, real estate, corporate claims. Other partners worked on... other things, and sometimes it was best not to ask. As far as Helen knew, Riordan's hands were clean, but he knew what was what with everyone, and he was willing to talk... up to a point.

"Y-yes," Helen said, unable to control a stammer as she sat. She had to be very careful. Riordan wasn't vindictive, but the wrong question might cost a chance at partner, or her job. "I, um, was wondering if the anyone at the firm was involved in a certain, ah, municipal service."

He raised a grizzled eyebrow and steepled his fingers. "Find out something and wonder if it could be traced back to us?"

"No, sir," Helen said, then backtracked. "Well, sort of. It's just that there are some funny goings on at Lawndale High School lately." She trailed off at his sudden laugh.

"There've been funny goings on at that school for years. I'm surprised you didn't send your kids to private school." Comprehension crossed his features. "Li should have been fired years ago, and you're wondering if someone is propping her up. Someone whose initial is V, maybe?"

She nodded, slowly "I should have realized years ago, both that Li was unfit for her job—I've met the woman and unfit doesn't begin to describe her—and that a certain someone or someones might be keeping her there."

Her last words fell into silence, sudden and oppressive. She wondered if she's stepped on an office landmine, and what she would do if she had. Finally, Riordan broke the silence, smiling "Well, I can assure you that Himself is not involved with the school in any way, nor is anyone else here."

Relief coursed through Helen. She could move without hurting her career or her family. "Thank you, sir. I don't suppose you have any other information?"

"Like, why Li keeps her job?" He shook his head. "I can only speculate, but I know tenure rules around here are pretty strong. And there's the question of who has the authority to remove her. That's a good place to start." He leaned over toward his intercom. "Now if you'll excuse me, my 10:30 should be here, soon."

Recognizing the dismissal, Helen backed quickly out. Riordan's information was like a weight off her shoulders. And his advice had matched her thoughts. If Himself's not propping her up, there's a dangling thread, and all I have to do is find and pull it. She sped back to her office. She had a lot to learn about Superintendent Cartwright, and a very short time in which to do it.

* * *

Quinn sighed as she walked down the hall. Daria wasn't kidding when she said I had the hard part. All she has to do is watch. Quinn wasn't watching so much as absorbing abuse.

Jodie had been particularly harsh to her, calling her all sorts of names, the nicest of which was conniving bitch, and swearing never to forgive her or Daria. The performance was very convincing, not least because Quinn had no idea if Jodie was performing. Both Quinn and Daria had made a number of calls last night, but they'd decided not to share who they called to make their reactions more realistic.

Quinn knew that Andrea, on the other hand, was not acting. The goth girl confronted Quinn in between second and third period, with blood in her eye and murder in her heart. "I should have known," she snarled with no preamble.

"Known what?" Quinn asked, affecting confusion, though her eyes met Jen's as the blond girl stood in Andrea's shadow.

"That you were still the same popularity whore you always were." Andrea snarled. "All that bullshit was just an act."

"So what if it was?" Quinn snapped.

"I don't give a shit that you fooled me. Shame on me for believing you. But," Andrea cracked her knuckles ominously, "I should beat the shit out of you for what you did to Jen."

Quinn tossed her hair in a dismissive gesture. Jen had told her she could go as far as she needed. She rather wished the blond girl hadn't, but she knew this had to be convincing. "What did I do to Jen? Finally convince her that the Easter Bunny isn't real and that the good guys don't always win? I did her a favor."

For a second, Quinn thought she had pushed too far, and that Andrea was going to hit her, no matter what Jen said. But the other girl whirled and slammed her fist into a locker instead. "Next time that'll be your face," she growled.

Jen put a hand on Andrea's shoulder, but the darker girl shook it off roughly. "Are you still sure there isn't a Hell?" she said, before turning and going. It was all Quinn could do not to burst into tears on the spot. Andrea didn't deserve that. I'm just glad I had a chance to tell Jen.

She had talked to Joey, which was likely why he was avoiding her today. Jamie and Jeffy on the other hand, had both dropped by her locker to tell her how awesome she was again, which she supposed was the closest she would get to an apology from either of those clots.

Kelly had also dropped by, leaving oblique hints that she'd be willing to help Quinn if the price was right. Tori Jericho had started with the same thing, but Quinn had seen Brooke over Tori's shoulder and been uncharacteristically short.

"Sure you want to get mixed up in the game again, Tori? You got pretty badly burned last time." Quinn had put all the scorn she could into her voice.

"You have a better option?" Tori quirked an eyebrow.

"Why me?" Quinn asked, intrigued. Something in Tori's voice resonated with her, but she had to know. "I lost last time, worse than anyone."

Tori met her eyes coolly. "You lost because you didn't know all the players. I think you'll do better this time."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "And what would you get out of it?"

Tori shrugged. "Be nice to be on the winning side," she said. "I haven't been in awhile. Doesn't even matter what I win."

Quinn nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. I wonder if that meant what I think it meant. Her eyes scanned the hallways, lingering on Jane Lane walking with Skylar Feldman. She gave a little self-satisfied nod as the bell rang, summoning her to another class.

* * *

Walking down the hall with Skylar, Jane noticed Quinn's smug look and smothered a sigh. They both owe me big time for this.

She turned half her attention back to Skylar, since he merited that much, at best. The good thing about walking with Skylar was that she didn't even have to fake interest. He filled up holes in the conversation by talking about himself. He makes those stuck-up rich boys at Fielding look humble.

He wound down some story about his dad's boat, and Jane gave him a half-assed smile. "I'll bet the sunset is beautiful out on the open sea."

"You know it," he said. "Maybe I'll have you out there sometime." Over my dead body, she thought. He wasn't as obvious as Bret Strand with the double entendres, but there'd been a definite leer in his voice that made his meaning clear.

"I'm kinda surprised you noticed me," she said, as they reached her locker. He deposited himself against the wall on the side opposite where the locker door swung out. As an artist, Jane could appreciate the effectiveness of his pose, leaning causally, one hand draped loose at his side, radiating relaxation and the feeling that he was in control of any situation. As a feeling person, she wanted to vomit. "Not that I mind, but I never thought plain old Jane Lane would interest you."

"The old order changeth," Skylar said, with a sly smile. "You're hardly plain old Jane Lane, now. Your sidekick is gone and runner boy is gone. Nothing to stop us having some quality time together."

"Uh, yeah," she said, as she fished out a book and closed her locker. "So we're not looking long-term here."

"Who knows?" He shrugged, rolling his loose arm. "I haven't found the one I want to stop on yet, but it doesn't mean I won't. And even if I don't," he brought up his arm and tousled her hair, "it's a big status boost for you. Now that you ditched the deadweight, Jane Lane might become a pretty big name in this school. Catch you later."

Jane steamed silently as she watched Skylar saunter off. You know, I don't even care why Quinn wants me to break him in public. I'll do it for free.

* * *

Zoe was surprised to see Lisa standing next to her locker. Although the cheerleaders showed a united front at Dawn's orders, Zoe was secretly persona non grata and had been pretty much since Dawn took over. But there was Lisa, wearing a smile that wouldn't have been out of place on a crocodile following a sinking ship.

"Hey," she said, when Lisa said nothing. "What's up?"

"Wanted a word before lunch," Lisa said. "Hear anything interesting over the grapevine?"

Zoe paused, watching over Lisa's shoulder the flow of students moving through the halls. Don't see any cheerleaders, but who knows who's listening in. "Maybe," she said, drawing the syllable out. "Nothing that's too big a deal, right?"

Lisa raised an eyebrow. "You don't think Quinn's a big deal?"

Zoe's heart began to beat a little faster, but schooled her face to indifference. "Should I?" she asked. "Quinn's been old news for months."

"True," Lisa said. "But things change quickly around here, and I'd hate to see us lose out." She pointed at Zoe. "I'd hate to see you lose out."

"Me?" Zoe said, affecting surprise. "What does it have to do with me?"

Lisa lowered her voice. "Don't you think Dawn's been a bit... distracted lately? Not really keeping an eye on things the way she should?"

"She's still keeping an eye on me." Not all of Zoe's bitterness was faked.

"Yeah. Instead of keeping an eye on the popularity game. I'll bet another head cheerleader would do a better job managing things." Lisa gave her a speculative look. "Especially if they had everyone on board."

Zoe gave her an amused look, though she was careful to keep her voice low, as well. "Got a candidate in mind?"

Lisa gave her a flat look. "What do you think? Angie and Nikki between them can just about tie their shoes, and the other girls are all too junior."

"And do you expect to take over just on your say-so? I don't count for much right now."

Lisa grinned. "Angie and Nikki are already in the bag. I told them both they were allowed to date the QB. With you, me, and the two of them, the freshmen and sophomores will fall in line. You will back me up, right?" For a second, Lisa's face grew hard again, the face that Zoe had come to associate with Dawn's enforcer over the last two months.

Still, she stood her ground. "What's in it for me to sell you out to Dawn? She doesn't trust me, and she's never going to trust me." With a grimace, she added, "Just tell me I can quit the squad whenever I want. Dawn treats the squad like the Mob."

Lisa laughed, "You can count on me if I can count on you." She stuck out her hand, "My word on it."

I'll just bet, Zoe thought as she took Lisa's hand. After a quick shake, Lisa left, leaving Zoe watching in her wake. As she finally grabbed her books for the next class, she reflected that the good thing about allying with good planners was that it cut down on the number of suspicious conversations. Quinn only needed updates if they didn't match what she expected. And she called that conversation almost to the word.

Zoe headed off to class with a tiny smile on her face.

* * *

Stacy was at ground zero of the power play, and didn't like it. Of course, she'd agreed to it, but that didn't make it any easier. She was good at agreeing with things, less so at disagreeing and standing up for herself.

Quinn had told her she was counting on her, but then Quinn wasn't always the most believable person in the world. Sandi had promised to make her popular, and Sandi always kept her promises. It was just that what you thought she promised wasn't always the same as what she delivered. Dawn hadn't made any promises at all, just threats. Stacy didn't like Dawn, never had, but threats were always a good way to get help, especially when the threats were realistic.

Dawn had made some more this morning. Apparently, Ms. Li had raked her over the coals again, so when she cornered Stacy, she was even harsher than usual. "I know that bitch Quinn is out there making allies. You're going to find out who they are," she'd snarled.

"Yes, Dawn," Stacy had said meekly.

"And, if you know what's good for you, you'll find out that Sandi is one of them. Kelly says there's nothing going on, but Kelly needs help finding her way up a staircase." She drove her fist into her other hand. "I knew I should have taken apart the fucking Fashion Club when I had the chance."

Stacy said nothing, merely nodding as she cringed inwardly.

"And you'll do it, Stacy, because if you don't, not getting a date between now and doomsday will be the least of your worries." With a final black look, Dawn stalked off, leaving Stacy to get control of herself before heading to English class.

And right after English, as if on a schedule, Sandi had come bearing gifts. "That Kelly," she grumbled. "Not only is she no damn use, but she's got the fashion sense of a penguin. Worse. At least penguins keep it simple and elegant. No, she puts on platform jellies with pink Capris and wonders why the freshmen and sophomores laugh at her."

Stacy laughed nervously, "That's pretty awful, Sandi. What does Tiffany say?"

"Oh, her," Sandi tossed her hair dismissively. "The same things she always says. 'Does this make me looooook faaaaat, Sandi?' 'I don't understaaaaaand, Sandi.' I've had more fulfilling conversations with Fluffy."

Stacy thought Sandi's impression of Tiffany was good, but cruel and unfair. They'd all been friends once, hadn't they? She said nothing, though, and let Sandi keep talking.

"I swear, Stace, what I wouldn't give for a useful sidekick." She quickly looked around and lowered her voice. "Know were I could find one?" The flow of students seemed unchanged, but somehow sinister.

"Well," she started to say, because it was expected of her, but Sandi interrupted.

"Because I have a pretty good idea. Tiffany's useless, Brooke and Tori are broken, and Kelly's worse than useless. Nor," she said, biting off each word, "am I of a mind to restore any previous Vice Presidents the Fashion Club may have had." She smiled again. "That leaves you. How would you like be to Vice President of the Fashion Club, Stacy?"

"I, uh," she sputtered, and Sandi rolled over here again.

"Good. Help us put down Dawn and keep Quinn on the outside, and the job is yours."

Overwhelmed, Stacy nodded, and Sandi shot off. Before she could move, she saw a flash of red out of the corner of her eye. Following it, she met Quinn's gaze. The other girl kept up the contact for a minute, but said nothing. Stacy hadn't expected her to. As far as Quinn was concerned, nothing had changed.

Stacy wondered if the same were true for herself.

* * *

Daria reflected, not for the first time, that she was lucky to have such a stoic face. Her situation was so ridiculous that she wanted to laugh, but if she started, she knew she'd soon break down into hysteria, because not only was it riduculous, her situation was frankly terrifying.

Thanks to Mr. DeMartino, she now had on her person documentary proof that her principal was a felon. She also knew said principal to be ruthless and brutal, and while she didn't fear for her physical safety, she had a feeling that Ms. Li could at least make sure that the future, instead of college, would involve long-term employment in the food service industry. And that fact that I half expected this doesn't make it easier.

What she needed, she thought as her fellow students flowed around her locker, was someone to pass the hot potato to. Normally, she wouldn't think of involving someone else, but she knew Li suspected her and Quinn, and not being caught with incriminating documents--faked receipts, secret bank statements, and the like--was pretty critical. The question is who? I need someone I can trust who isn't connected to me. And that list is vanishingly small.

She felt the eyes of her fellow students on her. Most were vacant, but she knew to her regret that some were sharp and suspicious. They can't know, can they? She thought the handoff had been sufficiently arcane that no one would suspect, but in Lawndale High, you never knew. How many eyes does Li have?

Gathering the papers, she closed her locker and threw herself into the hallway mass, on the trail of familiar cornrows. She caught up with Jodie at the other girl's locker. The hostile look on the darker girl's face told Daria that this wasn't going to be easy, but she plunged on.

"I need a favor," Daria said.

"Quinn running for Mayor now?" Jodie snapped.

"No, I..." Daria stumbled for a moment, then recovered. "This isn't about popularity games, Jodie. I need you to take some papers out of school."

Jodie's eyebrows rose in question. "Why me? You're not on my favorite person list right now, Daria."

Shame welled as Daria spoke. "I asked you to trust me, Jodie, and I didn't set a time limit. And now I"m trusting you. This is a lot bigger than Quinn versus the cheerleaders. This is about the rest of our education and our futures. These papers have to get off the property and I'll never be able to do it. You can; no one suspects you or hassles you."

"Because I'm the teen Negro queen?" Jodie's voice was harsh.

"Because without you, the school falls apart. Li knows who's important," Daria said, equally harsh.

"Give me the papers." Daria carefully slid a manilla envelope into Jodie's bag, blocking her actions from any watchers in the halls. "What's in them?" Jodie asked.

"I wouldn't look if I were you," Daria said seriously. "Plausible deniability is important." She gave Jodie one last searching look, and took off.

* * *

Helen was calm as she sat in the sterile waiting room. Her research that morning had borne some fruit, and she had a simple solution to Superintendent Cartwright's dilemma. Simple to implement; more difficult to explain, she thought as she waited.

Finally, the intercom buzzed and, after a short conversation, the youngish blonde secretary waved Helen in. The door swung open as she approached, revealing a tall, lean man with a shock of gray hair and sunken eyes in a deeply lined face. "Good afternoon," he said, extending his hand. "What can I do for such an illustrious member of our community?"

"Hardly that," Helen said, and smiled as she took his hand. "i just wanted to discuss some things with you."

"Of course," he said, sunken eyes suddenly hooded. "Come in and have a seat."

A plush leather chair awaited her, one of three that faced the superintendent's ornate mahogany desk. A large bay window gave the room plenty of light, even with the wood paneling and finished floor. As she sat, she regarded Cartwright carefully. To her eyes, he looked like a survivor—a veteran of internal politics and was a tough nut to crack. But Li did. Let's see if I can undo that.

"So what did you want to discuss?" he asked, steepling his fingers.

"It's about the High School," she replied. "I have two daughters there."

"Daria and Quinn," he cut in smoothly. "Both bright, but neither particularly motivated."

Idiot, she thought. I did my oppo. Why did I think he wouldn't? "I suppose that's true," she said carefully, "but I'm worried that the environment at Lawndale High School is partly to blame for their apathy."

"I'm sure," he said in a slightly mocking tone, and for a sudden moment, Helen wanted to hit him. "What elements of the school's environment don't suit your daughters?"

"Teaching materials are shoddy and out of date. Many of the school's programs are underfunded, and extracurricular activities are almost nonexistent."

"Your daughter Quinn was a big part of one, I understand," he said mildly. "Until she resigned."

She kept a hold on her temper. You're here to help him, too. "The Fashion Club hardly counts. It took almost no funding from the school and generally met offsite. In fact, aside from athletics, that's true of almost all extracurriculars at Lawndale."

"What would you like me to do, Mrs. Morgendorffer?" He spread his arms in a gesture of supplication. "The budget is tight, and my hands are tied."

"That's funny," she said. "Oakwood is part of the county, too. They pay the same school and property taxes, but their facilities are significantly better, and teacher salaries are higher. I can only think that there's some administrative inefficiency at Lawndale High that doesn't exist anywhere else."

For the first time, his features showed irritation. "Principal Li is a highly skilled educator, and her record is impeccable."

"On the contrary," Helen said, shifting into lawyer mode, "her record is spotty at best. Test scores have declined in eleven of the eighteen years she's been at the school, and there is a significant rate of parent complaints—complaints that have fallen on deaf ears. I would almost suspect that something other than her academic skills is keeping her in her position, except that I can't imagine anyone involved in the education of our children would be guilty of such an ethical lapse."

He snorted. "I believe we've reached the height of irony when an associate of Vitale, Davis, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrechter, Partridge, and Pear Tree presumes to lecture anyone else on ethics."

Helen regarded him carefully for a long moment. "Maybe I'm not always on the side of the angels," she said with a weary smile, "but I'm uniquely positioned to know what the devils are up to. You're familiar, I trust, with the term 'statute of limitations'?"

His voice was calm, but his hectic eyes, blinking and rolling, gave him away. "What does that have to do with me?"

"It means, Superintendent Cartwright, that the bit of peculation you did to secure your present job, and that got your bagwoman promoted to Principal, is no longer prosecutable. In short," she smiled, predator to prey, "you're off the hook, and out from under Angela Li's thumb."

For a moment, Helen thought he was going to continue to proclaim innocence, but his resistance collapsed. "I don't think so," he said with a heavy sigh. "There are other ways to take someone down, and Angela will employ them all if I let her go."

"Not if she's arrested, she won't. You won't have any choice but to fire her, then."

"On what grounds?" he said. "There was no way to prove she did anything illegal when I did that favor for Mayor Berry. Besides, you said yourself the statute of limitations had run out."

Helen laughed. "I'm a lawyer, Superintendent. You don't think I can find something, when I can all but get a grand jury to indict her for embezzlement right now?"

A crafty look came into his eyes. "So all you want is..."

"Don't protect her," Helen said. "You don't even need to fire her. We can get the school board or the mayor to do it if we have to. All you have to do is not save her."

A beatific smile crossed his face. "I think that can be arranged." He rose, and once again extended his hand. "Thank you, Mrs. Morgendorffer. You have no idea how much I appreciate your visit."

Oh, I think I do, Helen thought as she gripped his hand. I think I do.

* * *

Charles had spent most of the day watching the byplay among the power groups, reflecting with amusement that he probably knew more of what was going on than anyone not named Morgendorffer. True, he'd had the advantage of his chat with Daria earlier in the day, but he also had a keen sense of observation, which allowed him to see farther than most of his peers.

For instance, he watched Andrea and Jen at lunch, and guessed that Andrea never realized she'd been set up to make a scene earlier in the day, and not just by Quinn. Jen's tension and withdrawal weren't noticed by Andrea—few things were when she was in a tearing rage—but they were all too apparent to Charles.

He wasn't sure of everyone who was in the know: Joey's sudden intensity was undoubtedly related to Quinn, but whether due to anger or a mission on her behalf was unclear. And Mack always played everything close to the vest. Without Jodie at his side, he was impossible to read, unless he wanted to be.

Charles could, however, tell who wasn't in the know: the other factions developing as Dawn's position became more tenuous. His instincts told him that Scarlett was involved, despite everything he knew of her. He'd seen her earlier, bouncing with barely suppressed excitement, and as she made a beeline toward him, he could see the same energy.

"Well, if it isn't the alluring Scarlett," he said, with a classic Upchuck leer. "I yearn to learn what such a mysterious and lovely lady wants to share with me."

"Can it, Upchuck," Scarlett snapped, fingering her ankh with nervous energy. "I'm in a position to do you a favor."

"The lovely Scarlett wishes to bestow her favors on me?" Charles placed his hand dramatically against his forehead. "Be still my beating heart."

"I don't need you," she snapped again. "So cut the crap or I walk away."

This gets more and more interesting. I wonder what she's going to offer me. "As you wish," he said, inclining his head.

She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You're bright, Upchuck, so I'm sure you can see that Dawn is going down."

He resisted the temptation to make a lewd comment. "Alas, a change in the pecking order does little to stanch the yearning in my heart. Nor would I think it much interest to you. One cheerleader is much the same as another to someone whose interests lie so far outside the mainstream." Which is a delicate way of saying that she's a nutball who probably worships Satan, and evem if she doesn't, still wants to cast evil spells.

"Shows what you know," Scarlett said with a smirk. "Some people understand that to rule a social group, you have to be part of that social group. You also need smart lieutenants," she added, her eyes meeting his.

"Hmm...," he said. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I'm saying that I'm in a position to give you whatever you want if you throw in with me."

"And what do you think I want?" he asked, after a moment's pause.

"A little action,' she said, and smiled unpleasantly, "a little revenge, maybe, and a little fun at someone else's expense. For instance, Daria Morgendorffer turns your down every other week, doesn't she?"

"The redoubtable Miss Morgendorffer no doubt has her reasons," he said, not liking where this conversation was going.

"They won't matter when I'm done with her," Scarlett said. "Are you in?"

He was saved from answering for a moment by the approach of Andrea, scowling furiously. "Where's Jen?" she growled in that way she had.

"No clue," Scarlett said, "but stick around. You might hear something to your advantage. Well, Upchuck?"

Inside or outside. Think fast, Charles. You don't like Daria, but that doesn't mean you want the psycho tearing her apart. He held Scarlett's eye for a long moment. Inside it is. "How could I resist such an enticing offer from such an alluring lady? I'm yours, dear Scarlett." He bowed floridly.

"Good," she said, satisfied. "I'll see you here after school." She gave Andrea a nod. "You might want to tag along. If you're ready to ditch blondie, there might be a spot for you, too." Before the darker goth girl could respond, the redhead was gone.

Andrea gave Charles a confused look, touched only slightly with hostility. "What the hell was that about?"

"Tempted to find out?" he asked.

"Not really," she said. "I'm surprised you are."

"Not half as surprised as I am," he said with a laugh. "I suggest not being here later this afternoon no matter who you're angry with."

"What makes you think I"m angry?" she asked, as she cracked her knuckles and undermined her own question.

"I have a sense of these things, my raven-haired ravisher," he said with a lopsided smile, "and my sense is telling me that you want to steer clear of whatever is coming down."

Usually when he called her "raven-haired ravisher," she responded with "Howdy-Doody freak." Not today, though. Instead she gave him a quizzical look. "Strange advice coming from you. I might actually listen to it. Or maybe not," she added thoughtfully. "Quinn has a lot to answer for."

Charles suddenly had a very bad feeling.

* * *

Mack was worried. For one thing, Jodie had turned homicidal. He'd listened to her at lunch mutter about the perfidies of white teens in general and Morgendorffers in particular. When he'd ventured a comment, she'd damn near taken his head off. Part of her anger, he reflected, might have been that he was right. Apparently, they had all been played by Quinn. Still, if that was all it was, he would likely have shrugged it off. Jodie got mad every so often. She usually took it out on him, because he was a safe target. Then she got over it, and things went back to normal. But today was different.

For one thing, the halls seemed to be humming with anxiety—students were freaked, the ones who weren't pissed, and even the teachers looked like the hounds of hell were on their tails. It was a relief to escape that fetid atmosphere into Study Hall.

As he slid into his seat, the familiar voice of Evan Larson greeted him. "Cap'n Mack."

Mack turned to face the other boy, sitting behind him., "What's up, Evan?" Evan had been a pretty big douchebag as a sophomore, but he'd gotten better this year, even before he started dating Jane.

"Is it me, or is everyone in this madhouse going even crazier?" Even's voice was low, even as he gestured toward the door. "Our fellow students either want to find a hole in the ground to pull over their heads or claw each other's faces off."

"I don't think it's you," Mack said. "And even the teachers are getting into it. DeMartino's so twitchy that he makes his usual self look like DeFoe. I heard Morris made three freshman girls pass out in gym class. And Bennett's running around like a Nazi in a Mel Brooks movie. She's stopping people in the halls and acting like a maniac."

Evan laughed as Taylor Billings sat down in the desk next to Mack. "Did someone mention Bennett?" the newcomer said.

Even grinned. "Cap'n Mack thinks she's auditioning for To Be Or Not To Be Even Stupider."

"Yeah," Taylor chuckled. "I saw her stop one of the lacrosse players and ask him some random question, then drag him off to Li's office. I can't swear to it, but I thought I heard her say, 'Your papers are not in order.'" He winked and the other two laughed.

It was O'Neill's turn to take the Study Hall, and he began to read the roll, eyes flicking from the seating chart to the students. To Mack, his eyes looked not vague, but suddenly predatory. "What the hell is going on in this place?" he muttered to himself, earning sharp looks from the two he'd just been talking to."

You wouldn't think even Quinn Morgendorffer could mess everyone up this badly," Evan said, partly to Mack, partly to himself.

"Ah, but there are two of them, I'll bet. That's the only way to explain this much chaos," Taylor added.

Mack still felt some loyalty, to Daria if not to Quinn, so he didn't immediately agree. Instead, he said, "But it's not all their fault, I"m sure."

Evan and Taylor both nodded. "They're turning the place upside down, but mostly to shake out the rats," Evan said.

"Quinn's dishonest, but not malicious," Taylor said. "And Daria...." His voice drifted. He still doesn't want to talk about Daria, I'll bet. Mack sighed. He knew something bad had happened there, but not what, and it bothered him. He'd always thought Taylor was good people.

He was about to respond when he felt eyes on him. He looked up to see Mr. O'Neill staring intently at him, at them. "Something you'd like to share with the group, Mack? You know I encourage a free and open sharing of feelings." It was O'Neill's normal breathy whisper, but with a sharper edge.

Mack suddenly thought of 1984. We certainly have a Big Brother mentality here. So why can't O'Neill be part of the thought police? "No, sir," he said. "I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"Oh, don't apologize, Mack," O'Neill said, his voice back to normal. "I just like to see my students share their feelings." Even and Taylor gave Mack strange looks, but he ignored them. I didn't imagine that. Something really deep and weird is going on. I hope Daria's ready for it.

* * *

Tiffany was very happy that Stacy was back around, because she had someone to talk to. They'd chatted all through lunch, and Stacy didn't think she was fat, which was good. It was almost like old times, except Sandi was off somewhere else with Kelly and besides, Kelly didn't talk to Sandi the way Quinn used to, so it wasn't quite like old times.

She and Stacy had seventh-period Math together, but not sixth period. Stacy had an art class or something, so Tiffany had no one to talk to, until Daria showed up right after class. That conversation had been weird and made her head hurt, so sitting with Stacy again was a relief, until Stacy gave her a curious look. "So what were you talking to Daria about?"

Tiffany wasn't sure how to answer. In fact, she wasn't sure she could answer, because she hadn't understood much of what Daria said. She remembered a call from Quinn last night, though. It had been good to talk to Quinn again, even if Quinn had also been confusing. Her instructions were simple. "Do whatever Stacy does tomorrow, but do exactly what Daria tells you." And Daria had told her not to tell anyone what they talked about.

"Y'know, I didn't really understand," Tiffany said in her slow drawl. "She came up and said a bunch of stuff, then I asked her if I looked fat, and she sighed and left. She's so weird."

She felt bad about hiding the truth from Stacy, but she was listening to Quinn. After all, Quinn had told her to do what Stacy was doing, and Tiff was pretty sure Stacy was hiding stuff from her. Of course, Sandi would probably be pissed that Tiff was listening to Quinn, but Sandi hadn't told her not to. In fact, Sandi hadn't had much to say to her for the whole week.

The math teacher started droning in the background. Stacy was taking notes, so she tried to take them too, but it was hopeless. Math was not her subject. She soon faded into a daydream, but not deeply enough to miss Stacy's urgent whisper. "We have to go to the Fashion Club mirror after class. Even if we have to cut last period."

* * *

Stacy and Tiffany found Quinn waiting when they reached the bathroom. The redhead leaned against the door, arms crossed as she blocked the way. The smile on her face was tiny but insistent, the "cat-that-caught-the-canary" smile that Quinn used when she was pulling off, or about to pull off, a major coup. Here we go, thought Stacy.

"Hi, Quinn," Tiffany said. "It's nice to see you, but are you supposed to be here?"

"We'll see in a minute, Tiff," Quinn said, her smile unchanged. "How're you doing, Stace?"

"Fine, Quinn," Stacy replied, tone much less open than usual. Her head suddenly hurt. Here was one side. Another would shortly be here. All it needed was Dawn to start screaming threats in her ear. Though Dawn's not really relevant, since she never pretended to be my friend.

"It's nice to be together again," Quinn said, the touch of mockery in her voice undermining the sentiment. "Just the Fashion Club girls chatting together." She ignored the streams of high school humanity flowing by, and the small but growing crowd that had stopped to see what was going on. Stacy, at least, was sure Quinn knew they were there, and wanted them there. Otherwise, we'd be in the bathroom.

"It's not the whole Fashion Club," Tiffany said. "Sandi's not here." Stacy sighed inwardly. Poor Tiff. You don't even have to hand her a script. Just feed her a straight line and she spits out exactly what you want.

"Oh, I expect she'll be along any second," Quinn said, and turned her head. Sure enough, Sandi was steaming toward the bathroom. Stacy didn't even need to see her face to know that Sandi was royally pissed. She could see it from Sandi's body language and the path that seemed to magically open up among the other students.

Sandi's face was red with rage by the time she reached the other girls. "What. Is. She. Doing. Here." she spat.

Quinn smiled, unaffected by Sandi's anger. "Discussing the future of the Fashion Club, dear."

With Herculean effort, Sandi managed to master herself. "Then let's step inside, dear." A low moan of dismay rose from the now large crowd, many of whom wanted to see a knock-down, drag-out catfight.

"Oh, no," Quinn retorted. "I want witnesses. You see, Sandi, I'm taking over the Fashion Club."

Sandi's hiss of rage fell into the stunned silence of the crowd. "And how do you expect to do that, when you're not even a member?" she snarled.

"Easy," Quinn said. "As you well know, but don't bother telling anyone else, the Fashion Club bylaws state that the president can be removed at any time by unanimous request of the members other than the president." Her smile grew more predatory, as Kelly wormed her way through the crowd.

"I call for a vote of no confidence in Sandi Griffin as president of the Fashion Club," Kelly said, fixing Sandi with an evil grin. The look Sandi returned bespoke death. The crowd waited, and all eyes fell on Stacy, as she knew they would. Quinn's words drifted through her mind. "Tiff'll do what you do, Stace. You know she will. It'll work like a charm."

The crowd held its breath, and so did Sandi. Tiffany looked trusting, Quinn edgy. Kelly sneered. "I stand with Sandi," Stacy said, and the sneer slid off Kelly's face as the crowd exhaled.

"Well," Sandi said, again the smug Empress of all she surveyed, "that takes care of that. Quinn, I suggest you remove yourself," she said as she swept past into the bathroom. "The more fashionable among us need a makeup check."

Quinn let her pass, and Tiffany, but put a hand on Stacy's shoulder. "You bitch," she snapped, loud enough for others to hear. "This isn't over." With a toss of her red hair, she was gone, following Kelly, who had fled immediately.

So far, so good, Stacy thought, and followed Sandi and Tiffany into the bathroom.

* * *

Daria's last few classes were eternal. She sat on the edge of her seat, hoping the call wouldn't come but wondering when it would. Finally, the intercom crackled to life.

"Miss Morgendorffer to the Principal's Office. Miss Daria Morgendorffer to the Principal's office." The rage in Li's voice was apparent, even through the school's tinny PA system. A number of heads, heads that hadn't looked her way in two months, turned to regard her as she made her slow way out the door. She noted not a few expressions of pity.

She headed to Li's office with a purposeful stride. Nonchalance would have been better, she supposed, but this gave her a way to hide the shivers. Either she'd guessed right, and would shortly see something she didn't want to see, or she'd guessed wrong and.... Well, that didn't bear thinking about. The words Do you want fries with that? floated through her mind.

To her disappointment, she was right. She pushed open Ms. Li's door and found herself face to face not only with Li, but with Jodie as well, a manila folder on the desk in front of them—the very folder she'd given Jodie earlier in the day.

"Miss Morgendorffer," said Ms. Li with an unholy glee. "I've asked you here to try to explain yourself. When you have failed, I will have you expelled with due cause and you will be out of my hair forever."

"I was going to ask what you wanted to see me for," Daria said, her usual deadpan hiding a shiver inside, "but I can see that would be pointless. So instead, can I ask what the hell you're talking about?"

"I'm talking about your theft of school property. Miss Landon informs me that this," Li rested her hand on the folder, "was given to her by you."

Daria scanned the room. Jodie refused to meet her eyes, while Li waited, on the edge of ecstasy. Finally, Daria let her eyes rest on the manila folder for a moment. "That's right," she said. "I gave that to Jodie."

"So you admit it," Li said. "You make this too easy."

"Admit what?" Daria asked. "I gave Jodie a manila folder and asked her to hold onto it for me, because I have too many books to carry home today. How is this an expellable offense?"

"That's not what you said to me," Jodie spoke for the first time.

"I, uh, overstated myself," Daria said. "I didn't think that 'I'm too lazy to carry stuff home for Quinn' would get me much sympathy or help." She affected a sheepish look, but Jodie, finally meeting her eyes, was angry.

"She's lying, Ms. Li," the darker girl snapped. "Open the folder." The words of a science fiction novel Daria had just read came to her mind. If you had not gone down that path, you would never have found the trap. She sighed as Ms. Li opened the folder and slid out several 11 x 8 papers, and fanned them out.

"You see, Miss Morgendorffer, the evidence spread out— What the hell?!" Shock painted Li's face as lifelike drawings covered her desk. The figures were female, covered in what could have been the spring line for a particularly gifted and eccentric fashion designer.

"The evidence that Jane's gone over to the Dark Side, yeah, but you can't really expel me for that." She carried off the line well, but inside her sadness roiled. You should have trusted me more, Jodie. "Jane asked me to give them to Quinn. I don't know for what, and I'm not asking. But I guess I'll have to carry them home myself. Can I go now?"

"I don't think so, Miss Morgendorffer," Ms. Li struggled to gain control of herself. "After all, you lied to Ms. Landon, which—"

Daria was having none of it. "Is something that students do every day to each other. If lying to a classmate was an expellable offense, you'd have an empty school" And much happier teens, too.

"I will not have that tone taken with me, Miss Morgendorffer," Ms. Li sputtered.

"Need I remind you, Ms. Li, that my mother is a lawyer? The phrase 'violation of civil rights' must still mean something around here." After a moment, she added. "And lay off Jodie. She did what she thought was right, and doesn't deserve to be punished for being wrong." This earned an odd look from Jodie, and a sneer from Li. "Nothing was farther from my mind, Miss Morgendorffer. Now get out. But rest assured, I'm watching you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Daria said and strode out the door, leaving a confused Jodie and a stunned Li in her wake. Her purposeful stride lasted until she turned the corner out of sight from the principal's office, where she sagged against the wall, partly in relief, partly in sheer aftershock. Looking up, she met her sister's eyes. Wordlessly, Quinn offered understanding and support, and Daria in turn conveyed relief and sadness. For a moment, the two took comfort in each other's presence, before heading off in opposite directions.

* * *

Zoe had been busy all day with what Quinn called "table setting." She was looking forward to the meal. She'd spent the day taking advantage of her status as a cheerleader to quiz the popular girls on a subject that normally wouldn't hold any appeal: the bed habits of one Skylar Feldman. The results were encouraging, to say the least.

His reputation for catches was overrated. Probably a third of the girls she'd talked to had denied anything more than one date and a kiss or two. Some had been quite indignant about being linked to him in school gossip. Nina, a curvy brunette who Zoe had known since fifth grade, was especially talkative. She didn't care about school activities or the pecking order, but she really hated Skylar.

"That shithead?" she'd snarled at a shocked Zoe. "I wouldn't let him touch me on a bet. I don't even know why I bothered to go out with him."

Zoe hadn't said anything, just raised an eyebrow.

"He spent the entire night bragging about his dad's houseboat. I knew he was trying to get me to go back there with him so he could get in my pants, but I wanted to be polite, y'know? Then he stiffed the waiter and started to drive to the marina. That's when I told him to go fuck himself and demanded he take me home. He called me every name in the book, but at least he took me home."

"So why do you let him get away with it?" Zoe asked, genuinely curious.

Nina sighed. "I tried to for awhile, at the start of this year. Warned people he was an ass, and tried to convince them I never slept with him. No one listened. Rich pretty boy with the housebout, in with all the really popular girls, everyone was lining up for him." Her brown eyes narrowed. "Most of them just told me I was jealous, because I'd had him and lost him. And then people started tying me to Bret Strand and that other little weasel, whatshisface, Corey. Like I'd ever let him in the same room with me."

"No one believed you? Some of us know Skylar's a piece of shit."

"Did he have you?" Nina asked, suddenly shrewd. Zoe's lack of response told her all she needed to know. "That might be why you know. I know he says he nailed Quinn, and that's why she's not in the Fashion Club anymore, but I don't buy it. I never talked to her much, but I mentioned Skylar to her once, and she got this funny look and said she'd never get near Skylar, and that he had it in for her."

"And you never said anything to anyone?"

"Should I have? I don't really care about the popularity games, and it's not like Quinn and I are old friends. Why didn't you say something? You're a cheerleader, so you must know more than I do. And people don't seem to care if you guys put out. Me, I got saddled with a scarlet 'Slut.'"

She'd apologized to Nina and reassured her that Skylar would get his someday. She'd also heard from some "dissatisfied customers," which matched her recollection. Nikki always talked about how good he was in bed, and some of the other girls said he wasn't bad, but some of them had less happy memories. A redhead whose name she forgot had even called him "One-Minute Wonder."

All in all, she'd talked to about twenty or twenty-five girls over the last day and a half, and gotten a picture of Skylar that wasn't any prettier than the one she already had. But it'll prove useful tomorrow, if Jane and Quinn are right, she thought as she opened her locker for the last time that day.

* * *

Ms. Li faced the window as she spoke, seemingly to no one. The other occupant of the room found the tableau suggestive of a scene from a mob movie, but was willing to go with it.

"I don't like this," she said, as she watched students walking across the green on their way to their cars or bicycles "That whole thing with Miss Landon smells of a setup. But was she in on it? Miss Morgendorffer defended her, but Miss Morgendorffer has strange ideas, so that might mean nothing." She slammed her fist into her open hand. "But I should have checked before I called the little snot in. I was just so excited to get rid of her. She's been nothing but a thorn in my side."

Silence greeted this confession, so she continued. "I know there's something out there. I think DeMartino's up to something, and Miss Morgendorffer is involved, but I can't fire him or expel her without proof because of the union and her bitch mother the lawyer."

"What about the tapes?"

"There's static all over the tapes. The cell phones and all the other crap those kids bring in interfere with the audio pickups, and I'll bet there's deliberate sabotage, but it's so careful I can't find it. I'd say that about half of the audio comes through. Enough to make me seem infallible, which is good, but not enough to let me really be infallible. There's not enough to differentiate the sabotage from the normal problems."

"So what do you need?"

"I need you to find out what the fuck is going on. I put that idiot Wilkins girl in charge to keep things stable after to Morgendoffers screwed everything up, and suddenly things are unstable again. Diane's out there interrogating every kid she meets, and that's not going to work. I need you to be subtle."

"Subtle I can do. Do you think both Daria and Quinn are involved?"

"Up to the eyebrows," Li said. "I tried to suborn the younger Miss Morgendorffer, but she ignored me. She made a play for the Fashion Club, but it was transparent. She wanted to fail." She turned, finally facing the room. "I want them gone. I want them both gone, and DeMartino too, if you can arrange it. Find me proof that they're stepping out of line."

"I know they're disruptive, but what's the obsession with the Morgendorffer girls anyway? They're just playing popularity games."

"Not anymore." Li's eyes narrowed to slits behind her glasses. "They know we've been propping Dawn up, and I'll bet Daria knows why. We've hidden our tracks well, but nothing that will stand a really good investigation. And remember, if they find out about me, they find out about you." A mordant smile crossed her face. "Unless you fancy ten years in jail for embezzlement?"

Timothy O'Neill chuckled, the breathy whine gone from his voice. "I admit, I'm planning to retire soon, but to Rio, not Leavenworth." His expression hardened as he added, "I'll find what you need."

* * *

Andrea looked around. About twenty kids filled the AV Room, some on chairs, some on desks, a couple on the window sills, and Scarlett up front, with Upchuck standing next to her. It occurred to Andrea to wonder how Scarlett, who was known to be unstable, had managed to gather so many people in so short a time. After all, outcasts are usually outcast because they're different, and they're also different from other outcasts.

But gather them she had—stoners, nerds, tech geeks, and a couple of other goths that Andrea had no time for all sat waiting for whatever was about to begin to begin. Scarlett fingered her ankh, waiting for the appropriate moment, or for the little blue people only she saw to give her the go ahead. Finally, she cleared her throat. "You're probably wondering why I've called you all here," she said, and then gave a weird chuckle.

Andrea, from her vantage in the back, could see heads turn. Probably wondering how just crazy Scarlett really is, she thought.

Scarlett continued. "The pecking order in this school hasn't been kind to any of us," she said. "The popular kids ignore us if we're lucky, put us down or beat us up if we aren't. I don't know about you all, but I'm getting pretty tired of it."

The long-haired stoner that Andrea knew as Shaggy spoke, "So what? It's not like there's anything we can do about it, besides get the hell out of here at graduation."

Scarlett started hard at Shaggy for a minute before addressing the room. "Is that what the rest of you think?"

A low murmur filled the room, and several voices turned out variations of "I guess so."

Scarlett turned to Upchuck. "What about you, Charles?" Another sussuration went through the room at the sound of Upchuck's seldom spoken real name.

"I think our esteemed peers haven't given the issue much thought, my dear Scarlett," he returned with a cheerful leer.

She nodded. "I think you're right, Charles. They haven't thought about it." Her face hardened. "But I have. The popular kids run in packs. If we want to keep them out of our faces, we have to run as a pack, too. Right now, we're disorganized. The AV kids don't talk to the stoners, the stoners don't talk to the goths, the goths don't talk to the geeks."

She paused and another voice filled in, one of the aforementioned AV kids. "Because we don't have anything in common."

"So?" Scarlett sneered. "You think the popular kids do? The only thing they have in common is wanting to stay popular and put down everyone who isn't. I say we get organized and carve our a place for ourselves, a place where we can't be picked on." She grinned an evil grin. "And maybe we can get some of our own back."

Andrea wondered if people were buying this. She wished Jen were here. Jen was fun to bounce rude comments off, and Andrea didn't like anyone else here enough to talk to them. Jen was not the only one conspicuous by her absence.

"What does Daria think of this?" a high-pitched male voice said. Ted DeWitt-Clinton, Andrea thought, noting the blonde hair and the open expression. "Shouldn't she be here, too?"

"The lovely Miss Morgendorffer was regrettably unable to attend," Upchuck oozed.

"And what the hell do we need her for anyway?" Scarlett asked.

"Well, she's smart," Ted said, and a couple of heads near him nodded. "So's Jane, but Jane's on the track team, so she's not really an outcast any more."

"Like she'd bother with any of us," Scarlett almost snarled. "I'm smart too, and unlike little Miss nose-in-the-air, I don't think I'm too good to be bothered with anyone else."

"I don't think that's—" Ted started but was cut off.

"Look, I don't give a shit about Morgenbitch, okay. She's not here, and we are, and if she wants in, she can beg. But we've gotta get to work: start doin' things together, stickin' together in the halls and at lunch, swingin' our elbows a bit, and makin' sure we're noticed. Go on dates and show up at the snooty French restaurants the popular kids go to, just to make 'em squirm. Whaddaya think?"

I think you're nuts, Andrea thought, as Upchuck spoke, an oily smile on his Howdy Doody face. "We think this could be a new era at Lawndale High, and we want you all on board, especially you lovely ladies." He gave an Upchuck growl. "Take tonight to think about it, and if you're on board, meet back here tomorrow."

Scarlett nodded. "I look forward to seeing you all here tomorrow," she added, looking positively feral.

Andrea caught flashes of conversation, divided equally between questions about whether Scarlett's plans could work and whether Scarlett was off her meds. The redhead herself spared Andrea a weighing look, but not a word as she headed out, leaving only Upchuck in the room. He gave Andrea a small smile, so unlike his usual over-the-top demeanor. "What did you think?"

"I think Scarlett's off her rocker, and full of shit to boot."

He laughed, "Perceptive, if painfully blunt. She does tend to be, ah, overly impassioned."

"But what I don't get," she continued, as if he hadn't spoken, "is what you're up to. You're reasonably bright for a walking hormone, and I can't see why you'd want to be tied to that performance."

"Dy'ever watch NewsRadio?" He smiled at her confused look. "When the big man comes at the small man with all his force, it's the wise small man who gets out of his way." She continued to look confused, so he added, "I don't like working when I don't have to, so I just got out of the way."

Sudden comprehension dawned. "So you're saying?"

"If you show up tomorrow, that'll most likely make three of us."

* * *

Daria decided that she didn't like covert operations about the same time her boot started to chafe. She was normally a pretty good walker, but she didn't appreciate the need to walk almost all the way back to 1111, only to duck quickly down a side street and head back to the other side of town. She had no one to blame but herself, so she gritted her teeth and soldiered on.

Another ten minutes brought her to the Funky Doodle on Dega Street. Coming here was a calculated risk, since it was a fashionable alternative boutique, but then the day had been full of risks: DeMartino giving her the evidence, her pulling the switch on Jodie, and most of all the person she'd given the real folder of evidence too. And Quinn had assured her that the Fashion Club came here infrequently, and on a regular schedule, while none of the cheerleaders would be caught dead here. Trust Quinn to know things like that.

Pushing open the door, her eye was drawn by an orange and white check pullover. For a second, just a second, she pictured herself wearing it, and then shook her head. What am I thinking? Looking around, she made her way to the back of the store, where she trusted, against all reason, that her manila folder would be there.

Her heart began to beat when she found no one there. A frantic search of a few minutes failed, and she was just about to begin a sulfurous subvocal tirade when a slow voice said, "Hi, Daria," and Tiffany Blum-Deckler emerged from a well hidden dressing room.

"Uh, hi, Tiffany," Daria returned. "Do you have the folder I gave you?" A sudden sense of unreality assaulted Daria's mind, but she made sure to keep it from her face.

Tiffany nodded and pulled out the manila folder Daria had given her earlier in the day. "I didn't look at it," she said. "You told me not to, so I didn't."

"Good," Daria said. "The less you know the better."

"Huh?" Tiffany said, as Daria took the folder and flipped open her backpack. "I thought you wanted everyone to know stuff. At least that's what Quinn used to say."

"Well, I mean—" Daria started to say, but then she stopped. "You know what? If I try to explain, it's not going to make any sense to either of us."

"Okay," Tiffany said. "What's that?" She added, as she pointed at the folder in Daria's backpack, so similar to the one in Daria's hand.

"The fake folder I showed Ms. Li." Daria said. "It's drawings of dresses done by Jane Lane. Do you want them?"

"Dresses? Sure!" Tiffany said. "Are they pretty?"

"I don't know. I don't really have an eye for that sort of thing. But Jane said I could do whatever I wanted with them. You can call it payment, or a reward, if you want." Daria pushed the bag toward Tiffany, who grabbed the folder with a smile. "Thanks."

"Thank you, Tiffany. And Quinn thanks you too." Daria said. She flipped the folder open and riffled through the pages. "Now, I have to get this home. I suggest waiting here for ten minutes or so."

"Uh, okay," Tiffany said, but Daria had already turned to go, racing out the door, leaving what seemed like a green blur shooting down Dega Street.

Timothy O'Neill, driving past, caught the flash of green. Was that Daria coming out of the Funky Doodle? That's strange. He looked away to regard the road, and by the time he looked back she was gone. He pulled over to think, and noted Tiffany Blum-Deckler's emergence ten minutes later. Coincidence? Or something exceedingly strange? "I'd better keep an eye on this," he said aloud and drove off, mind whirling.

* * *

How the hell did I get myself into this? Jane mentally berated herself. She turned to see Skylar's handsome face in profile as he drove. Oh yeah. It's to make this oily sonofabitch crawl. He'd dragged her to Chez Pierre despite her hints, subtle and obvious, that she didn't want an expensive meal, and spent two and a half hours telling her how wonderful he was and how rich his parents were. She was about ready to cry with relief when he finally paid the bill.

She was tempted then and there to ask him to take her home, but she wanted to see what else he had in store, so they were speeding toward the bay. After a moment, he pulled into a small lot at the edge of a park. "We're here," he said, and hopped out of the car.

Jane sat waiting for a moment until he realized and opened her door as well. She would never have expected, or wanted, such outdated chivalry from a guy she actually gave a shit about, but anything she could learn about Skylar was all to the good. She gathered her light jacket around her shoulders as she stepped from the car. It was shaping up to be a very pretty night, with a clear sky and just a hint of chill from the water. All in all, a night for cuddling. Too bad I'd rather cuddle a live crododile than the guy I'm with.

"Let's walk," Skylar said with an smirk, resting his hand on her arm. She didn't recoil, and let her guide him across a sward of grass to a small path, lit mostly by moonlight, and the occasional lamp spaced every hundred yards or so.

"So what do you think, Jane?" he said.

"It's lovely," she replied. "I never even knew this was here."

"It runs from the country clubs to the marina. Just a nice little stretch of parkland. During the day, you get a lot of joggers and bikers and rollerbladers. Country club families." 'Like mine,' he didn't add, but she heard it anyway. "It's nicer at night."

She knew she was expected to ask, so she did. "And why is that?"

"Because at night, it's for lovers."

She tried her hardest to repress a shudder. "On a first date?" she said, and added a very artificial giggle.

"Why not? My parents' boathouse is a five-minute walk away. Not too far even on a chilly night like this, and then we can make a little heat of our own, hey?"

Deep down, she knew she should be uncomfortable. After all, she was alone with him. But mostly what she felt was contempt and amusement. How does he get away with this cheeseball crap? It was all she could do not to burst out laughing. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Skylar. After all, we hardly know each other."

His touch on her arm never changed, nor did the tone of his voice. What she could see of his expression remained affable, but somehow his posture became sublty threatening. "Are you sure, Jane?"

C'mon, she thought. Bite. "I think so. You're really sweet and all, but this is just too fast for me."

"Well, if you say so," he said. "But if I were you, I'd change my mind. You see," he added, and here his voice turned ugly, "I'm going to tell everyone we did it anyway, so you may as well have the fun to go with the reputation."

Yes! "You bastard! That's horrible!"

"Not really," he oozed. "After all, I'm a damn good lay, so you'll have a really good time. And if you're good too, we can have a lot more good times."

"I don't think so," she growled, not faking anger in the least. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"I'm Skylar Feldman, baby." He laughed, an ugly sound. "One more chance, and then you're on your own."

"That doesn't seem so bad," she said, trying hard to put an edge of fear into her voice.

"Ask Quinn Morgendorffer what it's like to go up against me. But maybe you won't mind being friendless and ignored again. Shall we go?" He gave her a mocking bow.

Quinn's got more friends than you think. There's Daria and me, and the little recorder on the inside of my jacket. And I've got what I need here. "I don't think so," she said. "It's only a couple of miles back to Lawndale."

"Suit yourself." Skylar shrugged and headed back down the path to the car. Jane, heedless of her dressy outfit, jogged off in the direction of the road not far away.

* * *

Papers covered the Morgendorffer kitchen table, Jake had been dispatched to a bar for a night out, and the three Morgendorffer women sat in what could only be a described as a council of war. Helen, one receipt in her hand, regarded her older daughter with not a little wariness. "You say Mr. DeMartino gave you these?"

Daria nodded. "He passed them back to me with my test in second period. Do you think they're admissible?"

Helen considered. "Normally, I wouldn't be sure, but I could probably call in another favor at the office. There's easily enough here for a warrant if the judge doesn't ask too many questions."

From the other side of the table, Quinn spoke. "But wouldn't they just throw out anything found on the warrant on appeal? I mean, if you have to play the judge to get the warrant, Li'll have a smart lawyer to get her off on a technicality."

Daria's look held new respect, but Helen just raised an eyebrow.

"Another smart lawyer," Quinn added hastily.

Helen smiled at the acknowledgment and nodded. "It's possible. I certainly wouldn't want to hang a case on it if I needed a conviction." Her face took on a thoughtful look. "Of course, all we really need is to push her out. A perp walk would be nice, but it's not exactly necessary."

"What are you saying, Mom?" Daria asked. "I thought we agreed that Li deserved to go to jail."

"That's true, but not the point. What you want and what you need are two different things. What about Mr. DeMartino, for example?"

"What about him?" Daria asked. "I'd think Cartwright would make him principal for getting rid of Li, right?"

"Don't be so naive, Daria." This from Quinn again. "If Li goes to jail, Cartwright will have to clean house if he wants to keep his job. DeMartino's been a part—maybe an unwilling part, but still a part—of Li's machine for years."

"Very good, Quinn." Helen nodded. "And if you'll forgive me for misquoting The Lord of the Rings, Daria, many people deserve justice, but are you wise enough to give it to them? Especially when it might do injustice to other people?"

Daria sighed. "Point taken. But then we're back to square one. Even with this information, we have nothing on Li."

"I wouldn't say that." Helen said, and her smile was positively predatory. After a short explanation, mirror smiles looked back at her from both her daughters.

Friday

Daria slipped into the school, heart pounding. Her mind flashed back to the momentous Friday of a couple of months ago. That day she had been a mostly innocent bystander, taken down by the plotting of others. This time she was if not the spinner, then at least at the very center of the web. I wonder if this is how the Spider King's ministers felt, setting up Warwick to take shots at Burgundy and England. She sighed.

It was early yet, and the halls were still empty. The doors had only opened a few minutes ago, and she wasn't sure the person she wanted to talk to would even be here yet, but she knew the plan would be infinitely easier if she could catch him now. Fortunately, there was a light in the classroom she sought. She eased the door open.

Mr. DeMartino, behind his desk, turned at the motion. A puzzled look crossed his features as she placed her fingers across her lips. Carefully, she drew a sheet of paper from her backpack and passed it to him. On it were written the words:

Audio pickups are easier to hide than video pickups. I'm going to close the door and then open it normally. When I do, ask me what I'm doing here and play along. My mother says trust her. She told me to do it this way. Also, destroy this note as soon as I leave.

DeMartino blinked but nodded slowly. Daria closed the door carefully, but opened it loudly, putting herself in the doorway as she did so. "Well," DeMartino said, on cue, "What brings you here so early, Miss Morgendorfer?"

Daria's voice was blunt, to cover the fact that she was sure DeMartino, and their supposedly secret listeners, could hear the racing of her pulse. "There's a problem. They know what's going on."

DeMartino blinked, an effect that looked very strange over his bulging eye. "What are you talking about?" Daria was sure his shock wasn't entirely fake.

"I'm talking about Li. She knows. You'll need a new strategy."

DeMartino gave her a hard look, followed by a tiny shrug. "I assure you, Miss Morgendorfer, I am perfectly capable of dealing with Ms. Li."

All Daria's fear drained away, replaced by certainly. She returned DeMartino a long look, before inclining her head. "You're the one who'll be living off Alpo if you're wrong," she said and raised an eyebrow in a motion ever so slightly resembling a wink.

DeMartino began destroying the page as Daria reopened the door, and peered around. Seeing nothing but Mr. O'Neill arriving at his classroom, she headed off.

O'Neill himself hid a smile. Daria and Anthony. I'm sure Angela will love to hear that conversation.

* * *

Skylar Feldman was annoyed. Oh, he hid his irritation behind his usual facade of insouciance, striding down the halls of Lawndale High like he owned them and was only deigning to go to homeroom for reasons of his own, but he kept replaying last night in his mind. How dare a nonentity like Jane Lane turn me down? As far as the rest of the school would know, she hadn't, but Skylar was one to brood on insults.

He stopped at his locker to find Corey there. Corey was a weasel and a hanger-on, but a useful one. He was a good tool for getting gossip out, so Skylar tolerated him. "So," Corey said, with his nails-on-a-chalkboard voice. "How'd it go?"

Skylar gave the little turd his best smug smile. "How do you think it went? How does it always go?"

Corey leered. "Was she good?" Many of the guys at Lawndale were content to have Skylar's sloppy seconds, but Corey was by far the most obvious about it. Skylar suspected Quinn may have had a hand there. Corey hadn't been as badly burned as those idiots Joey, Jeffy, and Jamie, but he had followed Quinn around for the better part of a year with the express intention of getting into her pants. These days the little weasel went for surer things.

"She's not up to the ol' Skylar standard, but she's ready, willing, and able, if you know what I mean," Skylar said, still thinking about his own history with Quinn. He'd taken a couple of shots, and been set down pretty hard. He could deal with the fact that Quinn was a user, but a user who didn't put out.... Brainy, bitchy Daria will let a man between her legs before her sister, the Ice Queen. But I got what I wanted from the redhead bitch. For a moment, he reveled in the memory of his triumph, ignoring Corey's prattle. He pretty much knew what Corey was saying anyway.

"Of course you should go for it, man! I'm telling you, she's hot to trot." He gave Corey a friendly nudge, and the little bootlicker scuttled off, presumably to talk shit in the locker room for the whole day before finally getting up the nerve to hit on Lane and getting shot down. Skylar rummaged though his locker, feeling self-satisfied.

Finding the books he needed, he closed the locker door with a slam, only to be confronted by a looming Mack Mackenzie. The larger boy gave him a glare. "I noticed Corey rushing off, looking for his hot new dating tip. I hope he's not haring after a friend of mine."

Mack looms pretty convincingly. Damn, but some of those football players are big. Show no fear. You're Skylar Feldman, and you're golden. He shrugged, all devil-may-care for Mack's consumption. "Corey's harmless. He's too stupid to do any damage."

"That's funny," Mack said, in a voice that indicated it wasn't in the least. "I could have sworn I heard him use the words 'Jane Lane' and 'easy' in the same sentence. That sounds pretty damaging to me. And since Jane's never let a word drop in Corey's presence, I can only assume that idea came from you."

"Far be it from me to gossip about a lady, Mack..." He let his tone drift off, wondering if Mack would just slug him and be done with it.

"Tell me another one," Mack growled. "Half the fun for you is telling everyone who you nailed."

"You wound me. And besides, what's wrong with giving a brother a hand? Jane doesn't meet the Skylar standard, but she might be happy with a second-rater."

"She might be happier if I laid you out." Mack swelled threateningly.

He is pissed enough to hit me, Skylar thought. But would that necessarily be a bad thing? He hits me and Li nails him to the wall, or I throw him off balance and let him know not to fuck with me. Win/win, right? "Hey, Lane and I had a little fun. Runner-boy couldn't satisfy her, and she couldn't satisfy me. So we switch partners. That's the dance." With his oiliest grin, he dropped the bomb. "Right, Mack Daddy?"

For a second he thought Mack really was going to hit him, as the football player's hands clenched and unclenched, and his jaw worked. Instead, Mack exhaled explosively and snarled, "It isn't worth it," before stalking off.

Skylar just stood and blinked, viscerally realizing what he'd narrowly avoided. It would have been good politics, but not healthy. Mack would have pounded me into a smear. He tried his best to hide his relief as he headed for homeroom.

* * *

Zoe was feeling satisfied. She'd tracked down Nina already this morning and enjoyed a very profitable conversation.

"Humiliate that sonofabitch Skylar? Where do I sign up?" Nina responded when Zoe offered her a chance for some revenge.

"Right here," Zoe said. "A little bird told me that Skylar's been trying some of his usual shit and someone's going to call him on it."

Nina quirked an unbelieving eyebrow. "Do yuu really think that's going to work?"

"It will if the right audience is there. Just make sure you get to lunch early. And if there's anyone else you think might be interested in the show, let 'em know."

"So what do I do?" Nina asked, clearly frustrated with Zoe's oblique answers.

"Just tell the truth," Zoe said with a wink. "You'll know when." For a moment, a chill crept over her as she recognized the eerie similarity between what she was doing now, and what she'd done for Dawn two months ago. She shook it away. This time, I'm asking people to tell the truth.

Familiar voices intruded into her consciousness. "Don't you think this is getting a little out of hand?" Angie said.

Zoe noted Nina's retreating form as Nikki spoke in reply. "What do you mean?"

Angie shrugged. "Dawn says do this, Lisa says do that. Not only do they both boss us around, but they give us different orders and then yell at us. It makes my head hurt."

"Yeah," Nikki sighed. "I mean it'd be really cool to date the QB and all, but it has nothing to do with cheerleading."

Angie nodded. "We haven't come up with a new routine in over a month, and I don't think we've even practiced one cheer since Dawn took over for Brittany."

Zoe recognized an opportunity. One that's good for all of us. "What's the matter, guys?" she said, as if she'd just noticed them. "You both look bummed."

"I'm not sure we're supposed to tell you," Nikki said.

"Sure we can," Angie replied. "Zoe's one of us. Isn't that what Dawn said? Or was it Lisa?" She stamped her feet in frustration. "I get so confused."

"Yeah," Zoe nodded. "I don't know what the heck is going on from day to day. Have we even practiced a cheer this week?"

"That's just what I said!" Angie burst out. "It's like we're on the same whatdoyoucallit, wave-thingy?"

Or that I overheard you, moron, thought Zoe and was instantly sorry. You're not better than them, so stop thinking you are! "Yeah," she forced a laugh. "Weird. I wish we did more cheering and less, uh, whatever Dawn and Lisa are having us do." She trailed off, faking confusion.

Nikki laughed, but the sound trailed into uncomfortable silence. "Oh, I'm sure it'll be awesome," she said, trying to break the mood.

"What'll be awesome, Nik?" Angie asked.

"Whatever Lisa and Dawn are working on." Nikki faltered. "I mean they must be working on something. Right?"

"I guess," Zoe said. "Maybe we could ask Brittany to help. She always came up with the best cheers."

The warning bell for homeroom range before either Angie or Nikki could reply, and the three girls headed off in separate directions. But they all had thoughtful looks on their faces.

* * *

Scanning the classroom during first period, Quinn was reminded of something she needed to do. Since she'd changed her seat two months ago, the view of first period English was rather different. Sandi and Tiffany were as far from her as possible while still being in the same room, the clot of semi-popular kids still sat in the middle, but had different members, and directly behind her, Brooke slumped, disconsolate as usual.

I put here there, Quinn thought. And now I'm going to do it to someone else. This time she was striving to avoid humiliating anyone to the degree Brooke had been humiliated—except Skylar. But she was committed, and she couldn't guarantee no one would get hurt. Public opinion was the best tool she had to pull down the entrenched student powers, and public opinion could only be aimed, not calibrated with precision. All she could really do was hope, and atone for her failures. Like the one sitting right behind me.

As the bell rang and O'Neill's inane babble finally stopped, she stood and gathered her things, knowing that what she was about to do was cold comfort for her, and most likely for Brooke, too. But it's the right thing to do.

So she let Brooke slump past her and out the door before tapping her on the shoulder. "A word?" she whispered.

Brooke turned at the tap and her face came alive with hate as she saw who had spoken. "I hope you don't think you're going to rope me into another plan," she said loud enough for the hall to hear.

"No," Quinn said, voice quiet. "That's the last thing I want to do."

"Then I can't imagine what you could possibly have to say to me." Brooke's anger gave her voice more life than it had showed in months.

"How about 'I'm sorry?'"

"What?" Brooke almost shrieked, whether from shock or horror Quinn couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry," Quinn said, voice gaining strength. "I'm sorry for judging you, and I'm sorry for humiliating you. And most of all, I'm sorry for treating you as a playing peace instead of a person."

Brooke stood in open-mouthed shock for a moment, surrounded by a circle of her equally stunned fellow students. Her jaw worked soundlessly before she finally managed. "You're sorry?"

"Yes," Quinn said, careful to keep her voice neutral.

"And do you expect this to make everything better?" Brooke asked, scorn painting her voice.

"No."

"Am I supposed to forgive you for being a lying, backstabbing cunt?" Brooke snarled.

"I'd like that," Quinn said. "But I don't expect you to. You have every right to hate me forever." A frission of confusion went through the crowd at that.

Brooke nodded. "I notice you don't deny it."

"Why would I deny it? I did everything you think I did," Quinn looked serious. "To regain my popularity, I set you up for shame and humiliation in front of most of the school."

"And the fact that I did the same thing to you leading up to that doesn't matter?"

"No," Quinn said. "What you did doesn't absolve what I did. Sometimes you make what you think is the right choice, but that doesn't matter to the person you hurt. And what happened to you wasn't about the right choice. It was about revenge and using you to send a message. So no matter what you did, I still owe you an apology."

"Would you be apologizing if Dawn hadn't turned around and cut you down" Brooke's voice was no longer sharp. There was a genuine curiosity there, clearly shared by the nearby students.

"I don't know," Quinn said. "I'd like to think I would, because I was seeing things different anyway that week, but sometimes you have to get outside something, or be pushed out of it, to see how fucked up it is."

"Deep, Quinn," Brooke said, with a small smile. "I don't know if i can accept your apology, but I'll think about what you said."

Quinn nodded. "That's more than I have a right to expect." Without another word, Brooke left. Quinn's eyes followed for a moment, looking sadly down the hall, before she too headed off to her next class. The other students drifted away, leaving a very confused Jodie Landon standing in front of her locker nearby. Oh, shit. I think I fucked up big time.

* * *

Dawn knew that something was up. Zoe's loyalty had been in doubt from the day she took over, and now Lisa's was too. She was fairly sure she'd seen Lisa talking to Sandi Griffin and Stacy Rowe at points during the last couple of days. And if my so-called right hand is talking to the Clubbies, that can only mean trouble.

That was why she had asked out of study hall for recruiting purposes. Morris wasn't happy that was observing gym class, but she had a pass from the Study Hall teacher and a note from Li, which was pretty much a Get Out of Consequences Free card in Lawndale High. Watching the girls do dancercize routines that were similar to the squad's cheers, she pondered. Some of them are promising, but I've got to be careful. They have to be pliable enough to use, but hot enough that we don't lose prestige.

As some of the disinterested dropped out, she kept her eye on a few of the freshman girls. One redhead, doing splits and rolls, seemed exceptional, while two or three other girls were only a little behind her. Ah ha. A starting point.

She turned to the tall woman beside her. "Ms. Morris, are those four girls freshmen?"

"Three are. One's a sophomore."

Wonder why we didn't notice her last year. "Do you mind if I talk to them?"

Morris gave her a long unfriendly look, but finally gave in "If you must," she grunted.

Dawn strode over to the redhead. "A word?"

The redhead had just finished a roll, which brought her to rest at Dawn's feet. She looked up into the head cheerleader's face. "Oh wow! You're the head cheerleader, right? Dawn?"

Dawn nodded. "Dawn Wilkins." She smiled down at the girl. "You've got some pretty impressive moves."

Three other girls gathered around them—the three other Dawn had her eye on, she noted smugly to herself. "Thanks," the redhead said. "My friends have some pretty good moves too."

"I see that," Dawn said, nodding again. "C'mon into the locker room. We can have some privacy there." She could here the muttering of the girls behind her as they followed her." She took a seat on a convenient bench, and began to speak, not waiting for the other girls to sit. "I'd love to see more of them, too. Maybe you could come by after cheerleading practice this afternoon. Maybe we can incorporate some of this stuff into our routines."

The redhead bubbled. "Cheerleading practice! That would be awesome!" Two other girls—the other freshmen, Dawn assumed—were high-fiving, but the fourth girl had her hands on her hips. "What's in it for us?" she asked in a closed voice.

"Well, who comes to cheerleading practice?" Dawn asked.

"Cheerleaders, duh!" The other girl's lips twisted in a sneer.

"Well, consider this a tryout," Dawn said, as the other girl smiled. For loyalty, as well as moves. She made idle chitchat for a few minutes more, before heading off. "Three-thirty," she added over her shoulder. "Don't forget."

* * *

Charles was entertaining himself. Scarlet had given him the duty of insuring that her circle of outcasts would show up this afternoon, but he was going about it in his special way.

"C'mon, Diana," Charles said in his best Upchuck voice. "This new group will give you the opportunity to spend serious quality time with the Chuckster."

Needless to say, heavyset Diana stalked off in disgust.

"Fiesty!" he said to her retreating form, and laughed to himself. As he did, Ted DeWitt-Clinton walked up next to him.

"Hello, Charles," Ted said, voice quiet and pale face radiating confusion.

"Ted," Charles said, and pondered the irony. He'd constructed the character of Upchuck deliberately but was secretly grateful for someone who didn't call him 'Upchuck.'

"What do you think we should do?" Ted said, not needing to elaborate. They both knew what he was talking about.

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Don't you want to be part of an outcast clique?"

"Well," said Ted, painfully earnest. "My parents don't believe in cliques. They think things like that are unhealthy."

"Ah, but they don't know about our circumstances here," Charles smiled and laid a finger against his nose. "And our Scarlet is full of ideas."

"I know," Ted sighed. "But she's not one to inspire comfort. I mean if it was Daria having these Ideas, or maybe Jane, I'd be less worried."

Inside, Charles grinned. I didn't even need to hook him. He did all the work himself. "Now that's unfair. You know Scarlett. She's very.. enthusiastic. And not happy when others don't share her enthusiasm."

Ted nodded slowly. "True," he said and then lapsed into silence for a moment, before adding. "Thanks, Charles, for helping me clear my mind."

As Ted headed off for class, Charles noticed that Andrea had been listening from across the hall. Charles didn't t bother speaking. He just gave her a broad wink.

* * *

At the same time, Angela Li was shaking with excitement. Timothy had come in earlier to notify her of a clandestine conversation between Daria and Mr. DeMartino this morning. He'd urged her to review the audio tapes, and what she heard was pure gold.

"I'm talking about Li. She knows," Daria's flat voice said on the tape. Angela had listened to it over and over. Finally, I'll get ride of that irritating little weasel. There will be no more threats to the honor of Lawwwwndale High.

She grinned an evil grin as she pondered her next move.

* * *

Jodie generally used her third period study hall to work on Student Council stuff, but this time when she headed to the office, an unpleasant surprise awaited her. Her Vice-President, Melinda Cooper, met her at the door with a smug smile.

"Excuse me, Melinda," she said. "I need to get some paperwork."

"No you don't," Melinda said, her smile getting smugger. "It's taken care of."

"What are you talking about?" Jodie said, growing confused and angry.

"I'm sorry," Melinda said. "Did I say it was taken care of? I mean that you were taken care of." She held out a sheet of paper to a disbelieving Jodie, whose eyes scanned frantically.

"But this says," Jodie's voice drifted in shock.

"That Ms. Li has accepted our request that you be removed as Student Council president." Melinda's voice could barely contain her glee. "Leaving your Vice-President to take up the slack."

"I don't... How could you..." Jodie choked unable to finish her sentences.

"We're all tired of being treated like children, Jodie, so we're overthrowing you. Go complain to Ms. Li, and let us do our jobs without you hovering over us and taking our work away."

Jodie, taken aback at Melinda's sudden rage, sputtered for a moment more before spitting, "Fine! I will!" She stalked off in the direction of the principal's office. Ms. Li's secretary tried to hold her off with a "Ms. Li is not available" but Jodie blew past her, not even stopping. As she flung the door open, she was sure that she could hear Daria's voice, but Ms. Li was alone.

"Ah, Miss Landon," the principal said, "I've been expecting you. I'm sure you're wondering why I allowed Miss Cooper's little coup."

"You could say that," Jodie said, trying to keep calm.

"Well, I think Miss Cooper had a point." Li steepled her fingers. "The President of the Student Council is supposed to be the first among equals, but you have dominated all of its functions in your time as President. A more, shall we say, diverse approach will allow the members to flourish to the full extent of their capabilities."

Jodie's finely tuned bullshit detectors began shrilling by Ms. Li's third word, but she couldn't very well tell the principal to her face that she was a lying cunt. So she tried the simple approach. "Ms. Li, can I ask you to reconsider your decision?"

Li gave her a cold and inscrutable look. "I assume so, Miss Landon, but you would know better than I would."

Jodie very nearly slapped a hand to her forehead. Like I need this. "Fine. Ms. Li, will you reconsider your decision?"

"No. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do, and you had better get back to class." She turned away, leaving Jodie no choice but to retreat. A single thought worked its way through Jodie's churning mind as she walked away. What the hell do I do now?

* * *

Mack wasn't sure, buit he thought he saw Jodie on the way to Study Hall through his class window, which was unusual, since she was usual in the Student Council office for the whole period. They didn't have fourth period together, so he wasn't in a position to find out what was going on until lunch, and he had other fish to fry then. But as he left his fourth period class, Jodie met him at the door, looking agitated.

"Mack, I need to talk to you," she said, panting.

"Sorry, Jodie," he said. He knew what she'd done yesterday and if he was a touch cold to her, well, he had a reason. "I've got to run right now."

"But, Mack," she whined, which was shocking.

Jodie doesn't whine. Still he had an errand to run. "We'll talk about it later, Jodie." He gave her a bleak look, and added, "We'll have a long talk later." As he left her horrified expression behind, he reflected on the strange way they'd switched positions. Jodie had been willing to go all in for Daria at the beginning of this, while he'd been reluctant. That had changed.

On the way to the lunchroom, he stopped to collect Evan and Taylor. As the three stood at Taylor's locker, another voice spoke. "I want in," Joey said, expression hard.

"In what, Joey?" Mack asked. "We're just going to lunch." Taylor and Evan nodded.

"Right," Joey snapped. "You don't have even have lunch this period, Evan. And the three of you have never had the time of day for each other."

"That you know, Black," Evan said. "It's not like you track Mack's every move. Unless you've given up on Quinn and starting going after Mack?"

"Fuck you, Larson," Joey said.

"Guys," Mack said before Evan could respond. "This isn't helping and we have somewhere to be."

Taylor nodded. "Mack's right. Whatever we do, we should do it now."

Joey growled, "I know this has to do with the Morgendorffers, and whatever it is, I want in."

Mack considered Joey for a long moment. He remembered the strange conversation they'd had, and his conviction that the popularity wars and the new power stucture were warping people. He'd been reluctant then, but wasn't so now. Even the news that Quinn might have double-crossed everyone didn't bother him. He'd gotten a good look at the the opposition, and this morning's conversation had cemented his position. I don't care what comes after. I just want to see these bastards taken down.

He clapped Joey on the shoulder. "Welcome aboard. We can always use another pair of hands."

* * *

Jane was getting ready to make an entrance. It was something she loved, but didn't get to do very often. From where she was, she could see a large crowd around the lunchroom door, many of whom were girls that Skylar had humiliated. Good work, Zoe. Mack, Evan, and a couple of other guys were lurking at the edges of the crowd. All that waited was the guest of honor.

Just then, Skylar came around a corner. Showtime! Jane let him almost reach the lunchroom door before she burst out of the classroom she was in and tore down the hall, screaming, "You bastard! "

Skylar had just put his hand on the lunchroom door, but turned to find in irate Jane right in his face. "How could you do that, Skylar? How could you?" she snarled.

"Do what?" he asked, with his most nonchalant smile. For a second, Jane almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"You lied about me!" Her hands hooked into claws and she made as if to rake them across his face. "You said we slept together!" More students gathered, some from the hall, some emerging from the lunchroom.

"So?" He raised an eyebrow. "Can't hurt your popularity to be seen as someone worth Skylar's time." He smile was at its oiliest.

"My popularity," she snarled, not needing to fake anger. "Do you think I'm some kind of whore, that I'd give it up for you just to convince other guys to let me put out for them, too?"

"Calm down, Jane," he said, noticing for the first time what a large crowd was around them. "All I mean is that when I take a girl out, I don't get jealous if they make it with someone else after."

"After what, you clown? We never made it."

"C'mon," he smirked again. "All the girls I go out with have a good time, right?"

He couldn't have handed her a better line if he'd had a script. "Why don't we put that to the test?" She turned, a chill smile on her face. "Did Skylar show you a good time?"

The mood of the crowd turned ugly. "Fuck no," Nina snapped. "This son of a bitch told everyone we slept together. Actually, our date ended when he ditched me at the marina when I wouldn't put out." Three other girls in the crowd immediately corroborated Nina's statement with similar stories.

To Jane's surprise, Tori Jericho stepped forward. "One-Minute Wonder, here, show anyone a good time? I don't think so." Even more strangely, Brooke was behind her. "Three hours of Skylar talking about himself followed by three minutes of Skylar satisfying himself. What fun. Not!" She met Skylar's eyes with a cold glare. "Have you ever made a girl come?"

The crowd around them laughed at that. Skylar himself was wordless with shock, but the "Oh shit!" expression on his face told Jane that he knew exactly how much damage was being done. I hope Skylar enjoys his new nickname.

The litany of Skylar's failings as a lover and a person continued for another five minutes before he could bring himself to say anything. In an low growl unlike his usual smooth voice, he said to Jane, "You set me up!"

"Sort of," she smirked back. "Actually, One-Minute Wonder, you set yourself up. If you'd treated women like people and not like collectibles, someone might have been willing to stand up for you." She watched his expression turn angry, before adding. "You made your own bed, Skylar. Now you can lie in it. Alone." As she turned and walked away, an animal bellow escaped Skylar, but before he could throw himself at her, Mack pounced.

"Go ahead," she could hear Mack saying. "Take a swing, and I'll take you apart. Then Evan, Taylor, and Joey will each take a turn."

Just then, the PA crackled to life. "Will Miss Morgendorffer report to the office. Will Miss Daria Morgendorffer report to the office." It was hard to tell through the static, but Ms. Li sounded pissed. Out of the corner of her eye, Jane saw Quinn hurry off down the hall.

* * *

This time, Daria knew exactly what she was in for. Helen had asked for twenty minutes, so twenty minutes she would have. As long as Quinn makes the phone call. She ruthlessly squashed any fear as she pushed the door to the principal's office.

"Hello, Ms. Li," she said with an almost cheery smile, determined to at least start with the initiative. "Am I in time for today's episode of When Paranoid Conspiracy Theories Attack?"

The older woman, her face a mixture of anger and triumph, was unamused. "Sit down." As Daria did so, she added, "You're in a very great deal of trouble, Miss Morgendorffer."

"Oh?" Daria raised an eyebrow. "Did I overthrow the British monarchy this time? Or just make Mr. O'Neill cry again?" At the mention of Mr. O'Neill's name, Ms. Li seemed to twitch, as if she was surprised by something. Interesting. Better file that one away.

"Miss Morgendorffer," Ms. Li said, "I know for a fact that you have been plotting with Mr. DeMartino to undermine my authority in this school. Now if you confess your crime, I may be moved to be lenient." She loomed over Daria, her voice barely above a whisper. "You do not want to find out what will happen to you if I am not lenient."

Daria very badly wanted to laugh in her face, but kept her expression calm. "So if I implicate one of my teachers in this fictional conspiracy, you'll only expel me, but if I don't confess, you'll... expel me." She gave Ms. Li another half smile. "Explain the benefit to me again."

Miss Morgendorffer," Li's voice was truly angry now, "I can do a great deal more than expel you, so do not try my patience."

"You seem to be under the misapprehension that you're an officer of the law instead of an educational administrator," Daria smirked. "Your jurisdiction ends at the doors of this school. You can, of course, press charges, but you'll have a hard time proving that I committed any crimes, even if I was part of a conspiracy to, what did you say?" She ran her thumb against her cheek in an exaggerated parody of thought, "oh yes, undermine your authority. Lese majesty is not a crime at Lawndale High."

Li sputtered incoherently for a moment before holding something small and white in front of Daria's face. "Can you explain this?"

"Um, it's paper," Daria said. "I don't know how to make it, but I know it's frequently used in schools to write on, and sometimes, though rarely, to take notes. The Chinese invented it."

"Enough of your sarcasm!" Li's face mottled with rage. "This was found in Mr. DeMartino's wastepaper basket this morning after you spoke to him! Now explain it!"

A momentary panic seized Daria. Shit. I hope she doesn't have the rest of it, or Mom's whole threat goes out the window. Shoving it down, she examined the paper. "It's got no writing on it," she said, hiding the relief in her voice.

"But you don't deny it's yours?" Li snarled.

"No, but I can't confirm it either. I might have thrown something out in that wastepaper basket, but so might dozens of other people." She quirked another half-smile, knowing how much it annoyed Ms. Li. "Maybe one of the Fashion Club girls was passing notes about strappy sandals."

"Enough of this," Li roared again. She pressed a button, and Daria heard her own voice, "I'm talking about Li. She knows. You'll need a new strategy." With a smile like a cobra, she lowered her face to look directly into Daria's eyes. "Now explain that!"

Well, you just screwed yourself royally, she didn't say. Instead, she put on a shocked expression, "How did you get that?"

"Never you mind, Miss Morgendorffer. This proves you've been conspiring against me, which means expulsion is the least of your worries."

"Dammit!" Daria said, for verisimilitude, before going back on the offensive. "But what I said before is still true. You can expel me, but I haven't broken any laws."

"I can have you up before the school board, and I can expel your sister, too."

"You bitch," Daria hissed. "Quinn hasn't done anything."

"I can't take that chance, not where the students of Lawndale High are concerned." Ms. Li said, the picture of the dutiful educator. "Of course, I could be persuaded to be merciful to your sister, if not to you."

"So all I have to do to save Quinn is to betray a confidence, resulting in the firing of one of my teachers. And his probable starvation, since you know damn well that no one else will hire him even if you don't blackball him."

"Perhaps your precious conscience can resolve your quandary, Miss Morgendorffer," Ms. Li sneered.

"You'll give me time to think it over?" Daria asked.

"Until the end of your lunch period, which you will spend here. If I don't have an answer, I call your sister in, and you will both be expelled. And before you ask, no you may not call your mother."

Daria slumped outwardly, though inwardly she smirked. Then it's a good thing Quinn already did.

* * *

Helen swept into Lawndale High like an avenging wind. She didn't bother with the main office, blowing past it like a magenta streak of lightning, a streak that snarled, "Where's my daughter?" at bewildered passers-by. Zeroing in an authority figure, she fixed him with a glare.

"Eep!" the man said, to Helen's satisfaction.

"Where's Ms. Li's office. I want to talk to her right now." She larded her voice with all the entitlement and authority a high-powered lawyer could command.

The man actually seemed to be shivering as he pointed out a nondescript door at the junction of this hallway with another. Helen suddenly recognized him. It's that loopy English teacher. What a jellyfish.

Dismissing him from her mind, she stalked down the hall and flung the office door open without bothering to knock. A women's indignant cry—that Fascist Li's, no doubt—died aborning as Helen filled the doorway.

Talking in the room with one glance, she saw a shocked Li standing behind her desk, palms flat on its surface, and Daria sitting off to one side, obvious relief on her face. Helen spared her daughter a smile before spearing Li with a glare, almost daring her to speak.

The other woman rose to the challenge, much to Helen's joy. "Mrs. Morgendorffer, what is the meaning of this?!"

"The meaning is that I'm tired of you harassing my daughters, so I'm going to do something about it."

Li strode around the desk. "There's nothing you can do. Your daughter was caught in illicit activity on school grounds. Once I've expelled her, I'll have no need to harass her anymore." She gave Helen a smug look. "And don't bother protesting. I've got the full backing of Superintendent Cartwright and the School Board."

Undaunted, Helen glared back. "And just what illicit activities has my daughter engaged in on school grounds? I assume you can provide some proof?" Daria, meanwhile, sat and enjoyed the show.

"Enough to satisfy the school board, Mrs. Morgendorffer, without involving lawyers."

"That's where you're wrong, Ms. Li," Helen hissed, as she withdrew a manila folder from her bag. "You'll be seeing plenty of lawyers, no matter what you do."

"I don't know what you've got there, but if you think it's going to move me, you're out of your mind."

"Oh, it's going to move you, Ms. Li," Daria said. "Right out of Lawndale High." Both women spared her a glare, which Daria returned unruffled.

"What I have here," Helen said, as if Daria hadn't spoken, "is a record of peculation going back at least a decade. It's not everything, but it's enough to get me a search warrant from a competent judge within a half-hour. I can be back here before the end of the day with an army of police to search this place." She handed the folder across. "These are copies. The originals are safe."

"What did you—" Li started to say, as she thumbed through the pages. "How did you get this?"

Helen's smile was predatory. "That information is discoverable, so you'll know before your trial. But not much before."

Li rallied. "It may also be grounds for dismissal. You have no case if you acquired the information illegally. And," she fixed her glare on Daria, "I'm betting you did."

Daria ignored her. Helen, however, didn't. "Don't think you can save yourself by threatening my daughter," she snarled. "Especially since I know what these false receipts paid for."

"What are you talking about?" Li snapped.

"I'm talking about the illegal recording system throughout this school," Helen rolled over Li's protests. "You had to know that recording conversations is illegal without the consent of both parties. So I can get my warrant, and everything will be admissible. That you secretly recorded conversations, how you secretly recorded the conversations, and most importantly how you paid for the equipment. You're looking at several felony charges and a number of years in jail."

Li slumped in her chair. "Why are you telling me this?"

Helen's expression left predatory far behind, giving the truth to the statement that professional courtesy is the reason sharks don't attack lawyers. "Because I'd rather avoid an ugly, drawn-out trial. I would prefer that my daughters not have to testify in open court."

"Though we will if we need to," Daria cut in. "Be sure of that."

"I'd much rather the problem went away. Quickly and cleanly."

"You're suggesting I resign as Principal?" Li said.

Helen nodded. "Effective today."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll be back in a few hours at the head of a group of Lawndale's Finest."

Not all the defiance had left Ms. Li. She stood and glared at Helen. "I expect if you try, you'll see some heavy pressure coming down on you."

"I don't think so." Helen gave no ground. "The phrase 'statute of limitations' must mean something to you. I'm sure if you think hard, you'll realize what."

Confusion ruled Li's face for a minute until sudden shock struck. She collapsed back into the chair, face empty of everything. Hope, fear, determination were all gone. After a long moment, she said, "You win."

"Excellent," Helen said. "Now Daria's going to go back to class and I'm going to help you write a notice of resignation."

* * *

O'Neill watched the magenta suited hurricane that was Helen Morgendorffer streak down the hall, unpleasant thoughts running through his mind. I don't think that was part of the plan. He didn't like surprises, which made sense, given how precarious his position could suddenly become. Still, no need to panic yet. Angela has a couple of hole cards that the witch can't know about.

Still, he found it hard to focus during his free period, and his unease grew when he saw Daria in the hall on the way to her next class. Her expression was flat, as always, but showed no signs of undue stress. I thought she was supposed to be gone. His confusion continued when he saw Anthony undisturbed in his classroom. Something's not right.

He made it through his next class and then slipped out to the teacher's lounge. He headed to the bathroom, where he locked the door and grabbed the medicine chest. His fingers found the hidden latch, and the chest, along with the part of the wall it was bound to, swung open.

Inside was a small phone. Angela had shown him the phone and explained its purpose. It was a direct line to Superintendent Cartwright on a line that did not go through his secretary, and its purpose was to remind the old man that Angela Li owned his ass, and defending her was defending himself. Timothy pushed the buttons, and was pleased at the click after the first ring.

His pleasure turned to dismay, however, when the voice of the automated operator sounded in his ear. "This number has been disconnected. No further information is available at this time." The bluntness of the message resonated with his sense of wrongness, as he replaced the phone and closed the hidden compartment.

He slumped on the closed toilet and took a moment to think. "Helen Morgendorffer is here, and neither Daria nor Quinn has been expelled. Angela's plans clearly haven't worked. And at least one of her aces in the hole has turned out to be a joker. So I have to think the law is moving in. Or something is. So where does that leave me?"

He knew that their little scam wouldn't stand up to significant scrutiny. He also knew that Angela demanded intense loyalty, but didn't always show any in return. Look at the way she switched horses in the popularity game. He also knew that he had a nice chunk of change squirreled away in various dummy accounts. Not enough, but I can't spend any of it if I'm in jail.

Decision followed thought, and action followed decision. Before he was even aware of it, he was out the door of the bathroom and out of the teacher's lounge. Time to leave, he thought. I'll be on a plane to Rio before they realize I'm gone. With a secret chuckle, he walked right out the doors of Lawndale High.

* * *

Jen had assumed a position as watcher. Her fracture from Andrea, temporary though she hoped it was, had bothered her, and she wanted no more of school plots. They had a way of finding her anyway, in the form of Upchuck, who sidled up to her locker between classes. "Ah, my lovely lady of mystery," he cooed, or tried to, "you break my heart when you hide your beautiful face.

"Can it, Upchuck," she grunted. She wasn't sure who said the Pavolvian response should be renamed the Ruttheimer response. Probably Daria.

"Oh, my sun-haired fantasy," he leered. "My heart breaks at your rejection. But I note the absence of our esteemed grammarian and literary guide. I thought maybe you had seen him?"

"Huh?" She worked her way through the sentences until she figured out what he was talking about. "Oh, O'Neill. No, I have him in the morning." She shrugged. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"Well," he said, drawing the word out, "things seem a little, ah, unusual today. I thought you might have some insight."

"Sorry, Upchuck," she shrugged. "Every day here is unusual. Don't know why today would be any different."

"Speaking of which," he added in a much different tone than his usual sleaze, "We missed you at Scarlett's little gathering yesterday. Are you planning to join us today?"

Quinn had told her to stay away, and while Quinn didn't hestitate to use people, her advice was generally very good. She grunted, wondering what he was up to.

Eyes peeled, he lowered his voice. "Empty classrooms not your thing, huh? Well, I've got to toss a few more caltrops out." He chuckled and oozed off.

What the hell was that about? Before she could think much on it, the loudspeaker crackled to life. "Students of Lawndale High," Ms. Li's voice said. "I regret to inform you that I have a family emergency and will be unavailable for the rest of the day and some weeks to come." The speaker fell silent, and Jen blinked in shock. Her confused face was mirrored by most of the other students in the hall. All except one: Daria, whose expresion was deadpan as usual.

Jen hurried to catch up to the green-clad girl, but Daria ignored her. "Did you and Quinn do this?" she demanded in an urgent whisper.

"No," Daria said calmly.

She's lying, Jen thought, and Daria confirmed those thoughts by adding, "But I think you're off the hook. Especially if you stay away from Scarlett this afternoon."

"What do you want from me, Daria?" she hissed.

Daria raised an eyebrow. "Me? Nothing. I just want to survive the rest of high school. You know that."

Before Jen could proccess her words, the bell for class rang, and Daria disappered. Jen shrugged and headed off to class.

* * *

Cheer practice this afternoon promised to be explosive. Zoe, as she waited with Angie and Nikki for Dawn and Lisa to arrive, just hoped that she had the last bomb to drop.

The other two girls were discussing Li's abrupt departure. "When do you think she'll be back?" Angie asked.

"Dunno," Nikki said. "It might be nice to have her gone for awhile, but I'm not sure I want to know who's going to take over."

"Well, you'll find out soon enough." Lisa's harsh voice burst into their conversation. "Li's gone for good, the witch."

"You sure?" Angie asked.

"Of course I'm sure. 'Sudden family emergency' has to be the lamest excuse ever. Something, I don't know what, came down the hill and rolled right over her. I wouldn't be surprised to see it on the news." Lisa's eyes flashed with an intensity that had nothing to do with Li. "Are you guys ready?"

All three of them nodded, Zoe hiding a shiver. As ready as I'll ever be.

"Good. Here she comes." Sure enough, Dawn appeared in the open gym door almost as soon as Lisa stopped speaking. As she got closer, Zoe could see the smug smile on her face. "We've got a lot to work on today, so let's get cracking. Where are the others?"

The three younger girls chose that moment to enter, and on their heels was Brittany Taylor. "What's she doing here?" Dawn demanded.

"Angie, Nikki, and I missed her," Zoe heard herself say. "We're going out after practice, so we thought we'd ask her to sit in for old time's sake."

Dawn locked eyes with Zoe, her gaze promising suffering. Well, that's it. Quinn's right, or I'm screwed. "Fine, whatever," the cheer captain said, dismissing Brittany from her mind. "Is everyone ready?"

"Yes," Lisa said. "I am ready. Girls?"

"Huh?" Dawn said. The look of shock on her face was almost comical.

"I'm calling for a revote on cheer captain. We need, what, three-quarters of the squad to vote out the old captain?" Her superior tone indicated that Lisa knew exactly how many votes she needed.

"You can't do this!" Dawn shrieked, eyes bulging. "I'll break you!"

"Only if you win." Lisa retorted calmly. "All in favor of removing Dawn as cheer captain?" Her hand shot up immediately, followed by Zoe's, and Nikki and Angie's a beat later. The three younger girls paused, looked at each other and then at the older girls. One by one, their hands snaked upwards, apologetic expressions on their faces.

As the last of the hands went up, Dawn's face simply crumbled. Zoe, watching, felt like she could read the other girl's mind. She's wondering how she let this happen, and why everyone would turn on her. If she looks in a mirror, maybe she'll realize.

Before Lisa could call the rest of the vote, Dawn simply fled, shrieking and wailing incomprehensibly. "We'll get the uniform back from her on Monday," Lisa muttered.

Her words were overheard by Nikki, who gave her a puzzled look. "Dawn's not still on the squad?"

Irritation crossed Lisa's face, but when she spoke, her voice was calm. "It'll be up to the new captain and the rest of us, but I think a new start might be best, don't you?"

Nikki shrugged. "I guess so." Angie nodded in agreement, and the three younger girls stood quietly.

"So," Lisa said. "Let's move on. Nominations for new cheer captain?"

"I nominate," Zoe started to say, and paused. A little drama never hurt, she thought as Lisa puffed up. "I nominate Brittany Taylor." An excited squeak sounded from the bleachers where Brittany had taken refuge, but Lisa's face had gone red with rage. "Any seconds?" Zoe asked, hiding her fear that Lisa was about to hit her.

"Second!" Angie and Nikki's voices overlapped, and the three younger girls chimed in directly after.

"Looks like Brittany's in by acclamation," Zoe said as Lisa sputtered. "Brittany," she yelled up, "why don't you come down and take over practice?"

Lisa finally found her voice as the once and again captain bounded down the bleachers. "Do you know what you've done?" she snarled.

"Yep," Zoe said.

"Li'll never let you get away with it."

"You said it yourself, Lisa. Li's gone, and so is the impetus to turn school activities into mini-KGBs. We don't need to run the school or tear each other apart to stay on top. You and Dawn both forgot that, which is why you have to go." As Lisa dropped her pom poms and walked off, still raging, Zoe added softly, "And so do I."

Brittany, busy hugging the other girls didn't notice Lisa's departure, nor was Zoe able to catch her attention right away. Finally, she resorted to yelling. "Brittany!"

"Sorry, Zoe," the bubbly blonde burbled. "Did you want something?"

"Yes," Zoe said. "I'm resigning from the cheer squad."

"No!" Brittany said, echoed by Angie and Nikki. "We need you!"

"I don't think so," Zoe returned. "I did some terrible things because Dawn and Lisa—and even Quinn—told me to. You need people who weren't mixed in the power plays, people who want to be cheerleaders because they have school spirit and want to cheer, not vicious backstabbing popularity hounds like Dawn, Lisa, and me."

"Does that mean we should quit too?" Angie asked, while Brittany just looked sad.

"You have to do what you think is right, Angie. You too, Nikki. But I don't think either of you did anything as horrible as I did. After all, it's not like wanting to date the QB is a crime for a cheerleader."

Angie and Nikki gave Brittany uncomfortable looks, but the captain focused on Zoe. "You do what you need to do," she said, with unusual solemnity. "But there's always a spot on the squad open for you if you want it."

"Thank you," Zoe said simply, and embraced Brittany. "I'd wish you luck, but I know you don't need it." She embraced all the other girls in turn before heading back to the locker room. As she changed, she wondered if she should be feeling more satisfaction at the takedown of Dawn and Lisa. Maybe I'm moving past that. Mostly, she decided, she just felt relief. She'd done the right thing and mended some fences. But there's still another one I have to mend, the most important one.

* * *

As the practice broke up, there was a knock at the door to the gym. Curious, Brittany opened it to find four underclassman. "Uh, hi," said the leader, a pretty redhead. "Dawn said we should come by after rehearsal for tryouts."

"Well, Dawn's not cheer captain anymore," Brittany responsed, then smiled. "But we have plenty of openings. Dina, right?"

The redhead nodded, excited to be recognized.

"Well, come on in, and show us what you have!" The squad ended up taking all four of them.

* * *

Andrea was cooling down. She was almost ready to talk to Jen again without bitching her out about getting them tangled up with Quinn. Plus, Li was gone, which changed everything. Andrea was willing to bet she was gone forever, but she hadn't bothered to talk with anyone about it.

But she wasn't ready to talk to Jen yet, and she was overwhelmingly curious about Scarlett's plans and Upchuck's little games, so she headed to the same classroom as yesterday. On the way, she passed Ted DeWitt-Clinton. "Hey, gum boy," she said. "Ready for Freakshow Two?"

Ted looked at her, nonplussed. "Are you talking about Scarlett's get-together?"

"Unless they're showing afterschool movies, yeah." She cracked a fishnetted knuckle. "What do you think?"

Ted considered carefully for a moment. "I think that Scarlett's ideas are unsound, and I don't think I wish to be a party to them."

"Unsound," Andrea chuckled. "You could say that. You could also say crazy."

"That's not very fair, Andrea," Ted said. "But she does seem to have an unreasoning hatred of Daria. I would hate to see her have the opportunity to hurt Daria in some way."

The mention of Daria disturbed Andrea, since thoughts of Daria led inevitably to thoughts of Quinn. And Quinn was someone Andrea didn't want to think about it. There were rumors Quinn had apologized to Brooke and wasn't trying to game the system, which undermined much of Andrea's anger, leaving her confused. She grunted an answer to Ted, who took the hint and headed off.

When she got to the classroom, it was empty. She took a spot against the wall, and sank into a half-doze. Upchuck entered a few minutes later and gave her a wink, which she didn't bother to respond to.

It was another few minutes before Scarlett chose to make her grand entrance, and it was a thing of beauty. She swept in, regal as any queen, turned to view the adoring masses, and had to pick her jaw off the floor when she saw there were no masses to adore her. Andrea stifled a laugh at Scarlett's comical shock, while Upchuck just stood, oozing, well, whatever it was he oozed.

Scarlett rounded on him with a hiss. "Where is everyone? You said they'd all be here."

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I told everyone to come, and discussed the advantages. Everyone seemed excited. Although, I did see cheerleaders talking to a couple of people later in the day."

"Cheerleaders!" The word was venom in Scarlett's mouth. "I'll bet that bitch Lisa double-crossed me."

"I don't know," Upchuck said, but Scarlett was off in her own world now.

"They had no intention of letting me in!" she growled through gritted teeth. "I'll bet Lisa was laughing up her sleeve at me the whole time. She'll pay. They'll all pay." She stalked out, rage rising in clouds from her.

Andrea watched her go, then turned to Upchuck, who was looking pleased with himself. In spite of herself, she laughed. "Good show, but who knows what she'll do next?"

Upchuck dusted his hands together. "Not my problem. That's the outcast mafia shut down. And I'm sure Scarlett won't do Lisa any harm." At Andrea's doubtful look, he added, "Any permanent harm."

"So how'd you get tangled up in this anyway?"

"A certain commonality of interest. No room for me in Dawn's idea of the pecking order, and Lisa's not much better. If the Morgendoffers bring them down, which seems to be well on its way to happening, I can get out of high school relatively sane."

"Even with Quinn in charge?" Andrea asked, with a challenging glare.

He gave her a weighing look. "Quinn's not so bad. Even if she does take over, and somehow I don't think she will, she's relatively bright, and not spiteful like Sandi and Dawn. Besides," he added. "Li's gone. Who's going to prop up this monster?"

"True," she said. "Well, thanks for the show, Chuck. I'm going to see if any more carnage has started."

As she walked out, Charles stared thoughtfully at the spot she'd vacated. Hmm... I think things are looking up. Whistling, he shut out the light and left the room.

* * *

The impromptu gang of Mack, Evan, Taylor, and Joey stayed together through the day. With the announcement that Li was leaving, they hadn't even bothered with classes in the afternoon, instead patrolling the halls to make sure things didn't get out of hand. Of course, Skylar's fate helped keep the incidents down.

"Go ahead," Mack had said. "Take a swing, and I'll take you apart. Then Evan, Taylor, and Joey will each take a turn."

Skylar, surrounded by four athletic boys, any of whom could have beaten him like a rag doll, took the path of discretion, or cowardice. Though he raised a shaking fist, he made no motion to swing. "But you don't understand," he finally whined. "That bitch ruined me."

"Like you ruined Quinn?" Joey asked, voice low and vicious.

Anger tempered the fear in Skylar's eyes. "That was different. Quinn tried to use me twice."

"Which is different than all the girls you used, how?" Mack asked, letting the irony drip.

"They used me, too," Skylar said. "And we had a—" He stopped, a look of dawning horror in his eyes.

Taylor and Joey laughed, an ugly sound. It was Evan who spoke, though. "Sorry, One-Minute Wonder. That won't fly."

"Now," Mack said, a tone of finality in his voice. "I'm going to hope that you've learned your lesson and will eventually treat people other than Skylar Feldman like human beings. And if you haven't, well that's not my problem. But," he leaned in so his eyes bored into Skylar's, "if I find out that you've been harassing my friend Jane Lane, or any other of the girls who had their say today, I'll come looking for you." Mack's voice grew deeper and quieter, and altogether chilling. "And when I'm done, there won't be enough of you left for Evan do to a victory dance on."

Skylar had literally crawled away. Their satisfaction had lingered all day. But now the day was over, and each had a different goal.

* * *

Evan headed to track practice, partly because he was on the team, but mostly because someone else was. He found her stretching, a little way apart from her teammates. "Jane," he said quietly.

"Hey, Evan," she said, sounding pleased. A wicked smile lit her angular features. "Heard you got to have some fun today in my wake."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Everything worked about pretty much like you said." He tried to hide it, but be was sure she could see how uncomfortable he was.

She didn't prove him wrong. "Evan," she said and stood to look him in the eye. "I'm sorry about this whole thing. I know we talked about it, and I did ask you, but I still put you in an awkward position." He tried to protest, but she cut him off. "I don't want anything to be weird between us. Can you forgive me?"

He regarded her for a long moment. She really was gorgeous, long-limbed and graceful like a jungle cat. And her motives had been noble. And she's really gorgeous and wants to be with me. "There's nothing to forgive," he said, and leaned to kiss her.

The kiss was long and mutually satisfying. When they surfaced, she gave him an impish smile. "You sure can kiss me, but I'll bet you can't catch me," she said and took off at a dead run.

There was nothing he could do but laugh.

* * *

Joey had just left practice and was wondering where Quinn was. He figured she would still be at school, making sure the next phases of her plan had worked, but it was just coincidence that he happed to bump into her in the now-empty halls.

"Hey, Joey," she said listlessly.

"What's the matter? Things not go according to plan?" In spite of himself, a little bitterness crept into his voice.

"No," she said. "Everything went perfectly. Dawn's out, Lisa's out, and Britt's back as cheer captain. Zoe told me before she left. She also told me she quit the team."

"So why aren't you more excited?" He would have thought she would be over the moon.

She gave him a long weighing look. Is she wondering whether to confide in me or whether I'll understand it? Finally, she sighed and spoke. "Yeah, everything's worked so far, and I really do think the changes are for the better. But I made them happen. Well, Daria and I did. So that makes me responsible, and it shows me how much power I have. I'm not sure I want the power, and I know I don't want the responsibility. I mean, what if Lisa or Dawn flunks out of school because they're not cheerleaders anymore. That'll be my fault, won't it?"

He could hear his old voice in the back of his head. No, Quinn. You're perfect, Quinn. You did everything right. He knew that wouldn't do. This was a different Quinn, and a different Joey. He wondered if he even still loved her, or if he just loved her differently. "I wish I could tell you that it's not your responsibility, but I don't know. I do know you did the right thing, for what it's worth."

"But what if it wasn't enough?" Quinn asked, the plaint and the pain clear in her voice.

"I don't know, Quinn. I'm not a deep thinker. I'm just a football player. Maybe you should talk to someone who is deep, like Daria."

Quinn nodded slowly. "You're right, and I was going to anyway. I suppose I wanted someone to tell me that I'm still a good person before Daria and I deal with the tough questions. It was unfair of me." She gave him a soft smile that set his heart to racing. "And Joey," she added quietly. "You're wrong, you know. You're not just a football player. You're a very special person." She pressed her lips to his face and quickly headed off, leaving a very confused Joey in the middle of the hall with his hand on his cheek.

* * *

Taylor hadn't bothered hanging around school. He had a feeling Daria wouldn't be there, and wasn't sure he should bother talking to her anyway. He very badly wanted to, though. He'd tried putting her out of his mind, but he'd failed miserably. If he was a different person, and she was a different person, he might have spent all of his time following her around like the three Js used to do for Quinn.

He wandered for awhile, not knowing what to do and having no place in particular to go. His feet eventually took him to the public library, where he found Daria head down in a book. As his shadow fell on her, she looked up into his eyes. "Hello, Taylor," she said after a speechless minute.

"Hello, Daria," he said. "I've wanted to talk to you for awhile. I need to tell you something."

"Before you say anything," she said, "there's something I need to say to you. I'm sorry."

He started to speak, but stopped at her words.

"I had no right to speak to you the way I did. I assumed the worst, and you didn't deserve that." She looked down. "I think I was madder at myself than at you."

Confused, he stammered. "So you... didn't like it?"

She sighed. "It's not that. It's just... I've always thought that the mind rules the heart, and that falling for a handsome face was something Quinn did. Until I met you."

His heart leapt in his chest. "Because that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm still attracted to you, Daria. I think I always will be."

"I'm still attracted to you too, Taylor," she said, and his heart jumped higher, until he saw the haunted expression on his face. Her voice was a whisper. "But so much has gone on. I don't know if we can get past that."

He met her eyes, and finding sadness, repaid with understanding. "I think we can try. But I don't want to press you."

"Maybe," she said, eyes moist. "But I need time to think." She stood, gave him a fierce hug, and left the library.

"Take all the time you need, beautiful lady," he whispered to her retreating form. "I'll be waiting."

* * *

As for Mack, his was the tough conversation.

It was almost nine before he could wedge himself into Jodie's schedule. He'd eventually just gone to the Landon house and asked to wait. Mr. Landon hadn't been happy, but Mrs. Landon had, surprisingly, taken his side.

When Jodie finally appeared, coming down the stairs with a forlorn expression, Mack's nerve nearly broke. Part of him very badly didn't want to have this conversation. But it's necessary. She made it necessary. By sheer force of will, he stayed on the couch as Jodie joined him.

"Dad said you wanted to talk to me, Mack. What about?"

Now that it was upon him, he couldn't summon the anger he'd felt earlier in the day. Only sadness. "You know what about."

"I suppose I do," she said and looked away.

Silence stretched, and he was unsure how to fill it. After what had happened to today—to him and to her—denunciation seemed pointless, but comfort was beyond him. Finally, a single word fell from his lips. "Why?

"I guess I never really trusted Quinn. It was so easy to believe the rumors, and so many people were getting hurt just to put Quinn on top. It just made me mad." Her voice gained some heat as she spoke. "And Daria with her secret spy routine made me feel like she didn't trust me."

"She was right not to," he couldn't help saying. A flash of hurt in her weary eyes was his reward.

"And she made a fool out of me," Jodie finished heavily. "And then I saw Quinn—Quinn!—apologize to Brooke. I'm not sure if I can hate Daria for what she did, or hate anyone beside myself."

He looked into her eyes, just as he had many times before. I don't know what I'm seeing. Maybe I never did. "I wish I could make it all better, Jodie. But you have to live with the consequences of your choices. And you chose the side of the devils."

Tears started in her eyes as she whispered. "Does that make me a devil?"

"No," he said. "But it means you've got a long road back to the side of the angels."

She looked away again, and new, heavier silence fell, as if each was afraid to speak, as if by not speaking they could prevent what both knew was about to happen. Finally, Jodie spoke. "Will you walk it with me? Can you walk it with me?"

The silence shattered into a million cutting shards. "I can't. We could always trust each other before. We always had each other's backs, even if we didn't have enough time for each other. But now...." He trailed off, nothing left to say. He simply watched Jodie's tears flow free as his own heart clenched. Finally, he could take no more, and fled into the Lawndale night.

Saturday and Sunday

Morning found the Morgendorffer sisters sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. Had Helen been there, she would have said they both looked emotionally drained. Had Jake been there, he would have been shoveling cereal into his face while reading the paper.

As it was, both sat in silence for awhile, before Daria spoke. "You okay?"

Quinn shrugged. "I talked to Joey yesterday afternoon. It was a tough conversation. You?"

"I talked to Taylor." Daria looked down. "Do you—" She paused, as Quinn looked on helplessly. "Never mind."

Quinn's eyes reflected her sister's pain, but Daria, she knew, would not welcome soft words or unasked for solutions. I'm learning, she thought, and waited for Daria to speak again.

After a few minutes of silence, Daria did. "So, I take it things are moving along according to plan on the student side."

Now it was Quinn's turn to look away. "Yes. Everything's fine. Dawn's out, Lisa's out, and Scarlett's following doesn't exist. No one cares what Melinda does. It's just..." she trailed off.

Quinn, Daria knew, was not like her. When Quinn trailed off, she wanted to be questioned. So Daria did so. "Just what?"

"Well, I got all those people to do all those things to themselves. I mean, I know we've talked about this before, and I know I used to manipulate boys all the time, so it's not like I suddenly found out I'm this supervillain or something, and I did try to do the right thing, and I know you helped, and so did Mom and a bunch of other people, but I'm worried that in the end things might not be any better, and I might like it, you know?"

Daria took a minute to unravel Quinn's verbal knot. "You're worried you might get off on getting people to do what you want?"

Quinn nodded. "I mean, it's one thing to get boys to buy you stuff. That's part of being a girl, and when you're ready to settle down, you stop." Daria frowned at this, but let it pass. "But we got people to start fights in the halls just to convince other people to do other things. And we made Jane go out with Skylar, so Skylar could humiliate himself. I always thought I was a good person. What if I'm not? What if it gets hard to remember why I do it, and I can't stop?"

"Let me ask you something, Quinn." Daria said. "After all this, do you think the end justifies the means? We hurt the people who hurt us, and stopped them from hurting other people."

"But we had to hurt a lot of people to do it. And that bothers me. So no, the ends don't always justify the means."

"Well, then Macquinnavelli," Daria smiled, "I think you're safe. As long as you know how dangerous your skills are, you can still be a good person. It's when you forget that problems happen."

"That's true," Quinn said, brightening a bit.

"Besides," Daria added. "We're pretty much done, right?"

"Not quite, Quinn said. "There's one more back to break, and it's gonna take a little work."

* * *

Lisa's Friday had ended badly, and her Saturday wasn't off to a good start. Her mother had bawled her out for neglecting homework and chores, so it was almost noon by the time she was ready to try to rebuild her shattered fortunes. She started with Dawn, figuring that the enemy of her enemy was at least useful. In this she was sorely mistaken.

"I don't want to talk to you," were Dawn's first words to her. A minute or so of incoherent blubbering had preceded them.

"You want to let what happened to you go?" Lisa asked.

"You're what happened to me, Lisa, And now you call to gloat? Go fuck yourself."

"Brittany's the new cheer Captain, Dawn. We both got played by Zoe. And I think I know who was behind her."

"I don't care!" Dawn railed. "Just because you didn't get what you want doesn't mean you didn't screw me over. I'm done with cheerleaders and I'm done with you!" *click*

Short conversations with Nikki and Angie didn't go any better. Each one told her that Zoe had quit the squad too, but other than that, they were overjoyed to have Brittany back as Captain. No help there.

She sighed and made the call she'd been dreading. "Griffin residence. Sandi speaking." Throwing myself on Sandi Griffin's mercy. Too bad she doesn't have any.

"We have a problem," Lisa said. She quickly sketched what had happened at cheer practice, and waited for Sandi's response.

"It seems our little council is falling apart," Sandi said. "I hear that Scarlett's little group didn't materialize either."

"So what are we going to do?" Lisa demanded.

"We?" Lisa felt like she could hear Sandi's eyebrow go up. "I don't know what we," Sandi emphasized the word, "can do. Are you even on the cheer squad anymore?" Not sure of the answer, Lisa didn't say anything, allowing Sandi to roll over her. "The point our plan was to have people of equal power. We can't do that if you don't have a power base."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"There's a spot in the Fashion Club if you want it. But that's all I can do for you," Sandi said, quite smugly.

"Great," LIsa said, and hung up the phone. No power. No friends. No allies. What the hell do I do now?

* * *

Quinn picked at the slice of cheeseless pizza in front of her. Pizza King wasn't the best place for the conversation she wanted to have, but on a weekend with the place almost totally empty, it wasn't too bad. Her patience was being tested by the person she wanted to talk to, though, and that could be a bad sign.

Finally, the door opened and Kelly strode in. She didn't acknowledge Quinn until she'd ordered and been served her slice—cheese and pepperoni—at which point she took the seat opposite in Quinn's booth.

Controlling her nausea, Quinn essayed a smile. "Thanks for coming to talk to me."

"You should thank me," Kelly said. "After Thursday's fiasco, you're lucky I don't go Brooke on you."

"But you're still in the Fashion Club."

"Because Sandi hasn't seen fit to dispose of me, yet," Kelly said and took a defiant bite of her pizza.

"True," Quinn said. "But why do you want to be in the Fashion Club? I'm not trying to be insulting or anything, but high fashion's clearly not your thing." Kelly, in hot pants and an electric green top, shrugged and ate more pizza.

"I mean," Quinn added, "I know you're not in it just because you enjoy Sandi Griffin's company."

That got a harsh laugh. "Ain't that the truth. But the Club is a popularity center. And it beats trying to be a cheerleader. I know Dawn's the one who pushed me in, but she's a stone bitch, and all that school spirit and jumping around isn't for me. I'd rather deal with Sandi."

"Dawn's not head cheerleader anymore."

If Quinn expected Kelly to be surprised, she was disappointed. The other girl merely took another bite of pizza and nodded.

Quinn's stomach lurched unpleasantly as a piece of pepperoni caught in the corner of Kelly's mouth. Ewwww.... Even Daria and Jane aren't that sloppy. And they eat those horrible garbage pies. She controlled her gag reflex and went on. "Here's the thing. Dawn's gone, Li's gone, and Sandi's probably going to make a play for the top spot again. I'm going to stop her, and you can help."

"Going to take over for yourself?" Kelly asked, finally wiping the corner of her mouth.

"Uh, no," Quinn said. "There's nothing worth having, with Li gone. She propped the whole thing up. Do you really think Sandi could have run the school with just Stacy and Tiffany at her side?"

"What about you?"

"Sandi hasn't trusted me since Day One. She used me, sure, but she never let me have real power. What did I care? I had all the boys after me."

Kelly's eyes grew intent. "But you could run things. You're smart, and if your four-eyed sister is on your side, you'd be unbeatable. And all the boys would follow you again."

Quinn sighed. "Until someone took me down. I'm not interested in taking anything over. I don't even care if Sandi keeps the Fashion Club. But I'll take it from her if she thinks she can use it to run the school. And you can help."

"What's in it for me?" Kelly grimaced. "Why shouldn't I just sell you to Sandi?"

"Not having to deal with Sandi anymore," Quinn quirked a smile, and then her expression grew deadly serious. Her eyes bored into Kelly. "There's no ultimate popularity to be had anymore. You can tell Sandi everything, and stay in the Fashion Club. But I'll still take it down, and if I don't, simple inertia will. There's nothing propping it up. Or you can help me finish things on Monday, and go back to doing things you like and hanging out with people who like you for you."

Kelly gave Quinn a long look, digesting the statements as she digested pepperoni pizza. Finally, she stood, half-finished slice in hand. "Well, thanks for the interesting conversation."

"Think about it, Kelly," Quinn said. "See you Monday."

As Kelly opened the door, a blond frame in a denim jacket filled the doorway. Kelly slipped past without a word, as the blond girl's eyes met Quinn's.

"I think we should talk," Jen said.

"I think you're right. Pull up a slice."

* * *

It took Jen a couple of minutes to get her slice, and she spent them wondering how she found herself here, waiting to have a heart to heart with Quinn Morgendorffer of all people. Eavesdrop on one monologue.... Who knew there was a brain and a wicked sense of humor under all that bouncy hair? But is she still the same old Quinn? Did I even know the same old Quinn? She sighed, took her slice, and went to sit down.

Quinn was there, lost in thought, picking idly at a cheeseless slice. "How can you eat that? The cheese is the best part." Jen asked, suddenly wondered how long the other girl had been there.

"Delicate complexion," Quinn said, with a half-smile. "I think at least half my problems with Daria over the years boil down to the fact that she has perfect skin and I don't. Well, except for that time she got that stress rash. But somehow I don't think my beauty regimen is what you want to talk about."

"Perceptive," Jen said, giving nothing. She'd thrown in with Quinn eagerly enough, and really wanted to like the other girl, but she was wary, too wary, of Quinn's skills as a manipulator, which had been on display all week. She took a small, neat bite of pizza.

"Well, there's only so much I can say. You know what I've been trying to do," Quinn said, sounding unhappy. "And even though you're not friends with Daria, you know she's not going to put herself out just to make me more popular."

"Daria," Jen said, "is not reassuring. I spoke to her yesterday, you know, when Li announced her leave of absence, and got nothing for my trouble. Talking to Daria is like talking to a wall."

"Well," Quinn shrugged, ignoring her pizza in earnest. "She's painfully honest. She only lies if she absolutely has to. And she's mastered silence, so she can not talk for hours if she has to."

"Like I said, not reassuring." Jen took another bite of pizza and carefully dabbed her lips, causing Quinn to chuckle. "What's that about?" she said, a little hostile.

Sorry, the redhead said. "It's just that you're so neat and careful when you eat. I was talking to Kelly, who is supposed to be a fashionista, and she eats like she's been raised by wolves. I found the contrast funny."

"And what were you talking to Kelly about?"

"You know. Or you can guess," Quinn looked away for a moment. "Look," she said, "I don't want to get into details here, but Daria and I are trying to finish this whole thing, and the last bit is pretty much down to me. And I need to use the tools I have. I want to be friends, Jen, but I can't stop being me."

Jen looked carefully into the other girl's eyes, and saw what she thought was—what I hope is—honesty. But there was also something hidden there, a gate behind which no one could pass. "I want to be friends, too, Quinn," she finally said. "But there has to be trust. I'm not sure if that's possible."

Quinn sighed. "What can I say? I won't be Miss Teen Queen anymore. I don't want to be Miss Teen Queen anymore." She slapped a palm down on the table, for emphasis, causing their plates to jump. "Just being Quinn is hard enough. But I swore I'd take this sick system down. And If I'm right," a sudden feral fire lit her eyes, "it'll all be done by Monday."

"Monday," Jen said, and Quinn's eyes were normal again.

"Monday," Quinn said, and extended a hand.

After a moment, Jen took it. "I'll hold you to that." And then, like two friends, they chatted idly as they finished their pizza.

* * *

Zoe rang the doorbell of Taylor's house with deep trepidation. In happier days, she'd been here fairly often. She and Taylor had never dated, but they'd been thick as thieves through Middle School, and still friends through most of high school. Until two months ago.

As chimes sounded behind the closed door, she froze, part of her wanting to talk to him, the rest of her hoping the door would stay closed forever. And so she stood when Taylor opened the door, unable to run or meet his eyes. "Zoe?"

His voice broke the spell. "Uh, hi Taylor. I, uh, came by to talk to you."

"What about?" he asked, voice hardening.

"Can I come in?" she said, voice plaintive. "Or will you come out? I feel weird talking to you through the screen door."

"Depends on what you came to talk about. I haven't forgotten what you did to me."

Zoe looked down to hide the hurt in her eyes. "Well, that's just it," she said softly. "I came to apologize."

Taylor looked blankly at her for a moment, then swung the screen door open and stepped onto the stoop. "Apologize?" he finally said.

She nodded, still not meeting his eyes. "What I did was horrible, and I've been trying to make up for it. I quit the squad, you know."

Using his thumb, he turned her chin until she faced him. His eyes shone with sympathy and his tones were soft, but his words were still harsh. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Nothing," she said, wanting to turn away but held in place by his eyes. "I mean, it's all connected, but me quitting the squad doesn't change what I did to you. And I don't expect you to forgive me. But I valued our friendship, and I threw it all away for Dawn's plots. And I'm sorry that I did that. And I'm sorry I didn't respect you enough to stand up for you."

"What about Daria?" he asked.

"I apologized to Daria already. I would have told you...," she trailed off for a moment, as a tear came unbidden to her eye. "You've both been hurt so much already. I didn't know how you'd take it."

Silence stretched, and tears ran in quiet tracks down Zoe's face. Finally Taylor spoke, "I accept your apology, Zoe. But I don't know if we can ever really be friends."

"I know," Zoe almost whispered. "I just don't want you to hate me anymore."

"I don't hate you, Zoe." Taylor said.

"That'll have to do for now," she said. Then she turned and walked away, leaving a thoughtful Taylor behind.

* * *

Sandi dialed the phone. As she listened to the dial tone, she thought about what she'd heard. Sandi was quite willing to believe the worst of others around her—the number of raging incompetents at Lawndale High was simply staggering—so seeing someone's plans fail was no surprise. But seeing several people's plans fail at once made her suspicious of outside influences. And she knew one person who was always a thorn in her side.

Finally the phone connected. "Hello," an uncertain voice said.

"Stacy, it's Sandi."

"Eep! I mean, uh, hi Sandi!" Stacy tried valiantly to hide the fear in her voice, while Sandi wondered again why she was saddled with such poor help.

"Enough of that, Stacy," Sandi's voice was harsh. "Lisa and Scarlett screwed up, but Lisa did take down Dawn. Brittany's head cheerleader again. That makes things harder but leaves us with an opportunity. The top spot is ripe for the taking again."

"Sure, Sandi," Stacy said. "With Dawn out, it should be easy for you to take over."

"Not quite. There's no way Brittany would be clever enough to take the captaincy back, so someone must have put her back. And it wasn't one of the other cheerleaders. So it must have been someone else."

"You don't mean...." Stacy trailed off.

"Quinn." Sandi said the name like a chime of doom.

"But she tried and missed, Sandi," Stacy said. "You already put her down."

"You are so naive, Stacy," Sandi said. "That was to lure me, and everyone else, off guard. And now Skylar's down, and Dawn and Lisa are down, and Ms. Li's gone. That's got Quinn's fingerprints all over it."

"But what can I do?" Stacy almost wailed.

Sandi's patience, never much to begin with, frayed completely. "Save me from idiots," she snapped. "Find out what she's up to, Stacy! Then tell me and I'll put a stop to it. I'm not losing out again, and I'm sure as shit not losing out to Quinn." With a savage stab, she disconnected the phone and flung it at the wall.

* * *

Daria had just hung up the phone with Jane when there was a knock at the door. Her chat with Jane had been nice, if a little difficult. Things weren't ever going to be the same as they were before, but with a little effort on both their parts—okay, mostly my part—there was no reason they couldn't be just as good.

The knock sounded again. "Who could that be?" she said, rising from the couch. As far as she knew, Quinn was already out on her Saturday night rounds, and her parents weren't expecting anyone. The last thing she expected to see when she opened the door was a haggard, wild-eyed Jodie.

"Uh, hi," Daria started to say, but was interrupted by Jodie pushing her way into the living room.

The dark-skinned girl seemed to be trying to say something, but all that came out were wordless growls—whether of pain or anger, Daria wasn't sure.

"Jodie, please calm down," Daria said. A ringing slap was her answer.

"You! You!" She seemed to choke on the words. Finally, she collapsed in tears.

Oh, god. Not again. "What's the matter, Jodie?"

Jodie's tear-ravaged face stared up. "How can you ask me that?!" Her voice was a wail.

Daria bit back a sarcastic retort. "Let me help you to the couch," she said, offering an arm. "I'll get a couple of sodas, and you can tell me what's wrong. And if it's really my fault or Quinn's, I'll let you beat the hell out of me. Deal?"

Jodie, still in tears, didn't respond, but did take the offered arm. Once Jodie was installed on the couch, Daria disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a pair of full glasses and something close to composure. To her shock, the first thing she heard was, "When she doesn't get off, this randy insect takes her lover's head off! Premature decapitation, praying mantis style, tonight on Sick, Sad World."

"I didn't know you watched this," Daria said, taking a seat on the couch and putting a soda in front of Jodie.

"I don't," the other girl said in a brittle voice. "But I guess I'll have plenty of time now, if my parents don't kick me out of the house."

"What are you talking about?"

"Like you don't know!" Jodie snapped.

"Assume for a minute that I don't. Pretend that I've been too hung up with other things to follow you around after Ms. Li's office on Thursday," Daria let a little anger touch her voice, though the main thought going through her mind was worry. "And while you're at it, act like I meant what I said when I tried to defend you from Ms. Li."

Their eyes met, and the smoldering rage in Jodie's died down as it met the promise of understanding without judgment in Daria's. After a deep breath, Jodie gave Friday's sequence of events, as Daria listened carefully. "...so I've been kicked out of student government and Mack broke up with me."

"God, Jodie, I'm sorry," Daria said. "I promise you that none of this was my idea, and it better not have been Quinn's. The reason I didn't tell you about the switch wasn't even because you were mad. I wanted you to have plausible deniability, in case Li found out what was going on. That way, you could honestly say I'd given you something unimportant."

"But it came in handy later, didn't it." This time, Jodie's voice held bitterness for herself.

"Yes," Daria said, matter-of-factly. "It did. Looks like I owe you an apology."

Shock painted Jodie's face. "Because I sold you out to Li?"

"No, because I, or more accurately, Quinn and I, used you before that. We needed misdirection, because Li was about to throw us out in the open. So we kept everyone in the dark, even people who had helped us, like you." Daria looked away, and her tone took on disgust. "We wanted your reactions to be more realistic. It worked too."

"So Quinn—"

"No use blaming Quinn," Daria cut in. "It was my idea. And it worked. Quinn's not the only monster Machiavelli in the Morgendorffer family. So if you want to beat the hell out of me, go ahead."

For a moment, Daria read temptation in Jodie's eyes, but it faded as Jodie looked away. "I don't know what I want," she finally whispered.

"So why'd you come here?"

"I don't know. I wanted someone to blame, I guess." Jodie gave Daria a sad look. "But there's no point if the person you're blaming just accepts it. So now I have to face what happened."

"Maybe I can help."

Sudden bitter laughter burst from Jodie. "Maybe you can," she finally said. "Maybe that's really why I came here, to see the one person I know is smarter than me."

"I wouldn't go that far," Daria smiled slightly, "but I'm here if you want me. First you have to know what you want."

"I want Mack back!" Jodie said.

"And the school government?"

Jodie shrank back from Daria's suddenly intent eyes. "I guess. I...." She looked away.

"Look, Jodie. If you want the Presidency back, I'm sure you'll have no problem. Li's gone and the worst of the petty power plays should go with her. And I don't think Melinda has any idea how much work you do. If you leave her alone for a week, she'll probably be begging you to come back." Daria could see the tiny smile on Jodie's face at the thought of her oh-so-ambitious Vice President's discomfort. "But you have to decide if you want it. What happened was brutal, but it's also an opportunity."

"And Mack?" Jodie said, with a sigh.

"I can't really help you there. You have to win back his trust." A wicked smile suddenly lighted Daria's face. "Of course, a couple of weeks of being treated like chum by the sharks that infest the Lawndale High dating pool might help."

"I thought that's what you and Quinn were trying to get rid of," Jodie said.

This time it was Daria's turn to laugh bitterly. "Are you serious? It's just that Li had this whole horrible structure, and she used Sandi and then Dawn to enforce it. And Dawn was a willing participant, which made everything worse. If that's broken, I'll be happy. But people are people, Jodie, and even the best of them can be cruel and venal. There's nothing Quinn and I can do about that."

Jodie sighed, acknowledging the truth of Daria's words. After a moment, she brightened. "Do you really think that might help me get Mack back?"

"I don't know, Jodie. But I know Mack's a decent guy. And you," she smiled lopsidedly, "despite the occasional lapse, are a decent girl. That's gotta count for something."

As quickly as it came, Jodie's smile died. "Maybe not enough."

"True," Daria said.

"Well, I'd better go. Thanks for the advice."

"Worth what you paid for it."

"And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"So am I, Jodie. So am I."

To Daria's everlasting shock, Jodie gave her a quick, wordless hug, and let herself out.

* * *

And on Sunday, they rested.

Events, however continued on, as Daria and Quinn found out when they came downstairs for dinner and found Helen on the phone.

"Uh huh. Yes. Thank you for letting me know. Yes. I know. No, no, thank you, Superintendent Cartwright."

Daria and Quinn exchanged looks as Helen hung up the phone. "Well," she said to her daughters, "that was Superintendent Cartwright from the school district."

"Thanks for spoiling the surprise, Mom," Quinn said.

"Yeah," Daria added. "We were bound to figure it out eventually."

Helen was too pleased at how well her girls worked together to give them the dressing down they deserved. Instead, she said, "He called to let me know what would be going on at the school tomorrow. Mr. DeMartino will be stepping in as Acting Principal for the rest of the school year. He didn't say if he had any plans beyond that.

Quinn nodded, while Daria said, "Good. If it wasn't for Mr. DeMartino, both of us probably would have ended up expelled. No good deed and all that."

Helen frowned. "If he hadn't roped you into his plans, you probably wouldn't have been in danger of expulsion in the first place."

"Come on, mom." This from Quinn. "Li had it in for us almost from Day One. Especially for Daria. I'll bet she set me up as a way to get us both expelled, even if DeMartino didn't give anything to Daria."

"True," Helen allowed. "The Superintendent also said they'll be gutting the high tech security stuff and they should be able to get most of the money back for it, plus some of Li's secret accounts."

"But not all of them," Daria said.

"No, not all of them."

"And O'Neill?"

"Funny you should ask that, Daria." Helen said. "Cartwright said that O'Neill is gone. They called to ask if he was okay with DeMartino being promoted over him because O'Neill had seniority. But his phone was disconnected. The police searched his place and found nothing."

Daria sighed. "I think we found Ms. Li's partner in crime."

"A little late, though," Quinn added.

Helen shrugged. "You win some, you lose some. And even when you win, you don't necessarily get all the bad guys."

* * *

It was a couple of hours later, plus the couple hours time difference, which made it past midnight in Rio, when two policemen came upon the corpse. It was in remarkably good shape, or would have been, but for the deep gash scoring the throat from ear to ear. But it hadn't been beaten or abused in any way, just dumped on a pier overlooking the water.

The older cop, graying at the temples with a droopy moustache, sighed and spoke in Portuguese. "Another stupid Anglo," he said to his younger partner. "They come down here and think that because they're from the big bad Estados Unidos, they can do anything they want."

"Well, whatever this guy did was fatal," the other man, long face frowning under a near-military buzzcut. "Should we search him?"

"Yeah," the older one spat. "But you probably won't find anything. This job looks professional."

"So you think..."

"I try not to think. Just makes the job harder."

"So what do you want to do? Haul the guy in?"

"Sure, and we can spend the night writing reports. 'Fortysomething unidentified white male killed. No identification, no clues, no nothing." He rolled his eyes. "Cap'll love that. Another dead tourist and more news."

"You got another idea?"

"Sure." He produced a penknife from inside his coat. "Pop the lungs, roll him out into the tide, and pretend we never saw him. Even if someone misses him, no one'll know we ever saw him."

The younger officer looked on the verge of saying something, but then he thought about his wife and newborn son, and the nice apartment they had on the good side of town. "Fucking Anglo asshole," he muttered. "Lucky he gets this much."

Ten minutes later, they were walking away as a body sank into the still waters, dark and deep.

Monday Next

Helen was the first to face the results of her actions. A late-night beep from Eric told her to be in at 7 AM, so she was up and out long before the girls or Jake woke. On arrival, she expected a mound of paperwork and the standard Schrecter excuses. If that slimy sonofabitch ever puts a move on me....

In fact, what she found was Eric almost cowering in his office. "Riordan wants to talk to you," he said, a quiver in his voice. "Don't make the man wait, Helen."

Seeing the terror in her boss' eyes, Helen had to wonder if the mild-mannered Riordan was really at the back of the request. She headed upstairs with some trepidation, but when she got there, Riordan's was the only occupied office. He gestured toward a chair, and she sat with noticeable relief.

The older man's unsmiling expression stole some of that relief. "I didn't want to have this meeting during business hours, Helen. Do you know why?"

"No, sir," Helen said. She'd forgotten exactly how ruthless this man could be.

"You took a very big chance on Friday, showing up at the school. We'd hoped for a more subtle, behind-the-scenes approach."

Helen felt a chill creep over her, and gripped the leather armrests of her chair for support. "With all due respect, sir," she said, "a direct approach was called for. And you put no conditions on my actions when I spoke to you last."

"True," he said. "But the goings on at the high school have drawn the eye of Himself. That's not an eye you necessarily want to be under."

"You said Himself wasn't involved in the high school!"

"So I did. But that doesn't mean he won't take an interest in what's going on."

Helen couldn't repress a shudder. Her entire career might hinge on this conversation, and she had no idea what the fulcrum was. "I won't apologize for what I did. It was necessary. But I will do whatever damage control the firm feels is needed. Is that enough?"

"And if it's not?" RIordan's eyes bored into hers.

"I'll take whatever consequences come down." She suddenly realized, in a way she never had before, that losing her job was only the beginning of what she might face. The firm had its hands in lots of places and had many connections that she tried never to think about. Maybe they'll let us leave. It's not like I really—

Her dire thoughts were interrupted by Riodan's wide smile. "Good girl!"

"Huh?"

This was a test. You passed." At her confused look, he continued. "Himself likes people who won't crack under pressure. And so do I."

Relief flooded her face. "So I'm not in any trouble."

"Quite the reverse, actually. It's nice to see someone under Eric Schrecter who can take decisive action. But Helen...."

Wariness crept back over her, and she leaned forward in her chair. "Yes."

"You will be more discreet in the future?" His words were avuncular, but there was steel underneath.

"Count on it."

* * *

The changes in Lawndale High were titanic, but though she'd been largely responsible for bringing them about, Quinn did not particularly care about them at that moment. DeMartino in the principal's office had been disconcerting, even though she'd known about it last night, and the thumps and crashes caused by workmen already removing Ms. Li's surveillance control center hardly made for a convivial learning atmosphere, but Quinn had too much on her mind to notice.

The last move of the game was about to start, and she wondered why she felt so numb. After all, this would be her coup, the last veil drawn back, as she stepped over her ultimate rival to claim victory. Victory seems like a hollow thing, she thought. I suppose it's because I'm glutted on revenge. She looked around the bathroom—once the Fashion Club's bathroom—and then in the mirror.

She saw the same doll face, the same bouncy red hair and rosebud lips. A stylish top accentuated her long neck. Only the eyes were different, deeper somehow. They held hard-won wisdom and deep melancholy. She fancied that if she focused only on her eyes, she could see Daria staring back out at her. No wonder you're so sad all the time, sis.

The sound of the bell ending first period was muffled by the closed door. She would probably get detention for ditching class early, but it was something she needed. I have to know this is necessary, and not just my own personal vendetta. She figured she had about thirty seconds before the door opened, so she faded into one of the stalls.

Sure enough, Sandi strode in right on schedule, muttering to herself. Quinn couldn't make out all the words, but was pretty sure she heard "idiots" and "fucking Quinn." She waited until Sandi was fully engaged in primping before emerging from the stall.

"We need to talk," she said softly, as Sandi's expression stiffened in the mirror.

Sandi made a growling noise in her throat, as her reflected eyes flashed with icy hate. For a second Quinn thought the dark-haired girl would turn and attack her, but Sandi spoke without turning. "I know what you're up to, Quinn, and it won't work."

"What I am I up to, Sandi?" Quinn asked.

"Dawn's down and Lisa's down, and you think you're going to make yourself Queen of the school." She tossed her dark hair, still looking at the mirror and not Quinn. "Well, it's not going to happen."

"No," Quinn agreed, voice still soft. "It's not."

Completely wrongfooted, Sandi just stared ahead, mouth dropping open.

"Don't you see?" Quinn said. "It's over. Li's gone. There's no top spot to fight over anymore. Just a bunch of kids trying to get through high school."

"What are you talking about?" Sandi grabbed the sides of the sink, hands clenching with the intensity of her anger. "There's still a food chain and you're not going to be at the top of it."

"I don't want to be at the top of it. I don't care about the food chain or even keeping up my old dating schedule. I just don't want to see more people get hurt fighting over something worthless." Quinn's voice almost broke, but she steadied herself. "We're all in this together, Sandi. Me, you, the rest of the Fashion Club, the jocks, the geeks, the school spirit kids, the weirdos, everyone. We all just want to get through high school so we can start our real lives. We should be allies."

"Very touching, Quinn," Sandi sneered. "But you don't think I'm buying that, do you? I'm not letting you take the top spot, and I'm not letting you take the Fashion Club."

"So that's your final word?" Quinn said.

Sandi said nothing, staring ahead into the mirror.

"Look at me, Sandi."

Slowly, almost as if impelled by the soft urgency of the redhead's words, Sandi turned. Finally, after an eternal moment, she met Quinn's eyes. "That's my final word, you bitch," she hissed.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Quinn said and opened the bathroom door. A large crowd stood outside, including the other three members of the Fashion Club. Behind them, Tori and Brooke looked on.

Seeing the crowd, Sandi strode out, her most superior expression in place. "Do you really think you're going to beat me this time, Quinn? I don't care what you did to Dawn. Right now, I hold the cards."

"I was your friend once," Quinn said, "so I'll give you one more chance. Forget about ruling the cliques and be happy with the Fashion Club."

"You were never my friend," Sandi growled, "but the Fashion Club is mine, and so is the school."

"Not anymore," Quinn said sadly. "Stacy?"

With a steely glare most unlike her usual terror, Stacy Rowe stepped forward and spoke in a clear, measured voice. "I call for a vote of no confidence in Sandi Griffin as president of the Fashion Club." Sandi's jaw dropped.

"Iiiiiii second," Tiffany said in her usual way.

"You can't..." Sandi said.

"We just did," Stacy returned.

"Not yet," Sandi recovered. "Kelly's still in the Fashion Club." Because you hadn't gotten around to kicking her out yet, Quinn thought. She owes you no loyalty.

And sure enough, Kelly stepped forward, wearing the identical evil grin from Thursday. "Let's make it unanimous," she said. "And for good measure, I nominate Quinn Morgendorffer as new President."

"Seconded," Stacy and Tiffany said together, and it was done, as Sandi watched in horror.

"Thank you," Quinn said. "Kelly, before we go on, did you have anything else to say."

"Yes," she said. "I quit. I'm tired of pretending I'm something I'm not. If I never see another copy of Waif, it'll be too soon."

Quinn nodded grateful thanks and turned back to the crowd. "Brooke? Tori? Are you here?" The named girls stepped forward, and Quinn looked them both over. "You understand what just happened, right?" Steel crept over the sadness in her voice. At their nods, she continued in a calmer tone. "And you can forgive each other, right?" Again they nodded. "Good. If Stacy and Tiffany have no objections, you're both in the Fashion Club."

Stacy and Tiffany both smiled and congratulated the other two girls. Quinn let them celebrate for a moment, before continuing. "The full club hasn't made a new member in awhile, so you'll have to come up with some fun ceremony. And now," she added, catching sight of a mass of blonde hair at the back of the crowd. "I'm announcing my resignation as President of the Fashion Club and nominating Stacy Rowe as my successor."

Total silence fell in the hall as dozens of jaws dropped. Finally sound started again, led by Tori and Brooke's shocked babble. Quinn ignored it all, meeting Stacy's eyes. She hadn't been a hundred percent sure Stacy would back her when she told the other girl how the scene would end, but looking now she saw gratitude and loyalty. They both knew it wasn't a bribe, but an earned promotion, and if they'd had to step outside the normal protocols to do it, well they both understood the reasons.

"So you sold me out to take my place," Sandi spat at Stacy after the pro-forma vote made her president. Quinn longed to slap her down once and for all, but knew this was a test Stacy had to pass on her own.

"Oh, Sandi. you are so naive." Stacy's smile was vicious. "Do you really think Quinn had to work hard to convince me to turn on you, after you mocked me and belittled me for a year and a half and then kicked me out because Dawn told you to? I was a double-agent all along, Sandi." Turning her back on her former friend's blank stare, she turned to the new Fashion Club. "Come on. Cashman's is having a sale this afternoon and we've got to come up with a coordination plan."

Quinn watched Stacy and the others walk away, a sad smile on her face. She saw the flicker of motion out of the corner of her eye, but didn't bother moving. Before Sandi's punch could land, a fishnetted hand caught her arm. "Uh, Quinn," Andrea said. "I'm sorry about what I said the other day. Do you want me to make up for it by beating the tar out of this one?"

"No," Quinn said. "She's already beaten, and she knows it." She turned back to Sandi for the last time. "I don't care who you date or how popular you are, or even what you say about me, Sandi. But if you hurt any of my friends, Andrea pounding you to a pulp will look like a day in the park." Quinn emphasized the words with a deadly glare. Given the speed with which Sandi fled, Quinn felt she got her point across.

As the crowd thinned, Jen finally waked over. "We okay?" she asked Andrea, and the Goth nodded.

To Quinn, she said only, "Monday." but she smiled, and Quinn felt a sudden warmth. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, she thought.

They were all late to second period, but just this once, Mr. DeMartino let it slide.

* * *

Daria sat alone on the roof, her back to one of the air conditioner vents. It was lunch hour, and the Listapo was gone, so she felt confident her alone time would not be interrupted, and she badly needed some alone time.

The last week—heck, the last two months—had been just as hard on her as it had been on Quinn, and if she was overall happy with the outcome—the departure of Li, the breaking of the institutional clique system, and the improved relationship with her mother and her sister—she had a lot of changes to process and internalize.

Looking down at her backpack brought one of the most obvious changes to her attention: nail polish. The shade was only a muted pink, but it represented a major step for Daria. Without ulterior motive, she'd colored her nails and painted her face, and found that she felt... comfortable. Her idiot repelling armor was also gone—green jacket replaced by a comfortable, if flattering, green sweater, skirt longer and a bit tighter. With a sense of vertigo, she suddenly felt like she was looking down at Quinn's hands, Quinn's clothes, Quinn's body. I guess we're more alike than I ever thought, sis.

Underneath it all, she realized it didn't bother her. This isn't a new me or a different me, it's just a part of me I've ignored. She reached for her bag, and more importantly, her copy of Focault's Pendulum, and smiled slightly. It's not like I suddenly don't like to read or anything, just that I might try to have fun, and even let Jane have fun.

Before she could get too far into the book, a voice from behind called her name. The temptation to stay silent rose, but she pushed it down. After all, it wasn't an unfriendly voice. "Over here," she said. "On the other side of the AC vent."

After a second, Zoe came into view. "Hi, Daria," she said uncertainly. "Did you want some company?"

"Uh, I guess so," Daria said after a moment. "How'd you know I was up here?"

"Jane," Zoe said, and then noticed the book. "If you're reading, I don't want to interrupt."

"That's okay," Daria said. "The book's a little too dense to be read in half-hour sittings anyway."

"I have to confess," Zoe said with a nervous laugh, "I'm not much of a reader. I prefer music."

"Please don't say you're into Boys R Guys or Guys R Boys or whatever the hell is popular this week. Because I don't think I could take that." Daria's voice was flat, though not unfriendly.

Zoe laughed. "Not quite. I like a lot of the indie stuff: Sleater-Kinney, Girls Against Boys, the L7, the Donnas. Smashing Pumpkins and Alice in Chains aren't bad, but I can do without most of the rest of the grunge stuff."

Daria blinked. "I, uh.... That's some interesting musical taste you've got there. What did your fellow cheerleaders—"

"Ex-fellow cheerleaders," Zoe cut her off firmly.

"You know what I mean," Daria said.

"Wasn't really any of their business," Zoe said. "Most of them like music as background noise, something to dance and cheer to. I like music to listen to, you know?"

"Cool," Daria said, a genuine smile on her face. Before she had a chance to think, she added. "Maybe we could hang out and listen to stuff together. My collection's a bit out of date."

Zoe's response was cut off by the sound of a heavy tread behind them. Soon Mack appeared, looking worried. "Daria! There you are!"

"Mack!" she responded, light mockery in her tone. "Here I am!" She fixed him with a penetrating stare. "Why were you looking for me?"

"Just checking up on you. I was a little worried. You seemed," he paused, "distant this morning."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "As opposed to every other day, when I'm a bosom friend to all?" Zoe laughed, and after a moment, so did Mack.

"I suppose you're right. It's just, well, you're dressing differently again, and so much stuff has been going on lately. I just wanted to make sure you weren't being ignored." He gave her a lopsided smile. "That's what friends do."

Daria looked over at Zoe, and back at Mack. For a long moment, she paused, not saying anything, but then a smile spread slowly across her features. I guess I have more friends than I thought. "They do, don't they? Thank you, Mack. And thank you too, Zoe." She was about to invite Mack to join them when another footfall sounded.

"What is this, French farce?" Daria muttered, and then swallowed a breath as Taylor emerged around the vent.

"Uh," he said, eloquently, looking from Daria to her two companions. "Hi, Zoe. Hey, Mack."

Both nodded, and Mack turned to Zoe. "I think our friend might need a little alone time." Daria and Taylor both shot them grateful looks.

Left alone, the two simply stared at each other for a long moment, before speaking at the same time.

"Daria—"

"Taylor—"

Daria inclined her head, inviting him to continue, so with a sheepish look, Taylor did. "Listen, Daria, I know that a lot has gone on, and it's hard to get over, but I think I have an idea. Let's just start over as friends, and if something more happens, it happens. And if not, not."

"You mean, wipe the slate clean?" Daria said.

Taylor nodded. "As far as I'm concerned, we just met. Does that sound good?"

For just a moment, she wondered if he was crazy, but then a calm acceptance came over her and with it a deep sense of freedom. The burdens of reputation she'd piled up since coming to Lawndale and the newer burdens of pain acquired over the last two months fell away. For a moment, she thought of Eowyn standing on the battlements of Minas Tirith as the shadow fell away from her at last. She smiled.

"Hi, I'm Daria Morgendorffer."

"Hi, I'm Taylor Billings, and I'd like to get to know you."

"I think I'd like that too."

Fin

Author's Note:

Well, there it is, after more than a year and a half: the end of "Turnabout Confusion." I'd like to thank Ranger Thorne for the original Iron Chef challenge on which this story was based, and everyone who reviewed this story and gave feedback on ff.net or at the PPMB. Thanks for sharing the ride with me. I never would have reached the end without you.

Disclaimer: Daria and all characters are copyright MTV 1997–2002. I own nothing and am merely along for the ride.