—

8.0

—

After a brief conversation and exchanging contact information, we left Harley to carry on with her reading. We emerged from the library into the warm afternoon sunlight, Natsumi joining us.

“That was fun,” Natsumi said as she strolled behind me with a lively gait.

“I guess so, but that's done now,” I answered, feeling a mixture of success and relief.

“And now your team is complete,” Natsumi remarked, a touch of enthusiasm in her voice.

“Yes, it is,” I curtly said, hoping to dampen her enthusiasm and make her lose interest. Natsumi let out a huge yawn, stretching her arms above her head. “You seem tired,” I noted.

“Yep. Before I met you all in the library, I was on my way to take a nap,” she admitted as she stretched her arms above her head.

“But you chose to stay?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Yep, because I knew that whatever you were up to was going to interest me,” she grinned.

“You are a strange one,” I uttered, shaking my head. Her smile widened even more as she chuckled.

“You know, we should also exchange contact info,” she said in a light-hearted yet serious manner.

“Nope, maybe another time,” I quickly dismissed the notion.

“I see. You’re trying to avoid me, aren’t you?” Natsumi asked, her voice teasing.

“Yep, and I’m not even going to deny that,” I replied, smirking. She laughed, clearly enjoying our banter.

“That’s mean. Anyway, I’ll leave you two to discuss your important details.” Natsumi said. Though a little too late, it was great that she did pick up on our intentions.

“We shall meet again, Marcus,” Natsumi said as she hurried off, her laughter echoing behind her. Honestly, I wished this wouldn’t happen, but I knew I would run into her again somewhere.

“She is interesting,” Hazel finally said, breaking her silence since we left the library.

“I know, right,” I said, looking around. “That bench over there is free; we can talk there.” I led her over to the vacant bench by the walkway. We both took a seat; the wood felt cool against our backs.

“So, have you heard anything from Sullivan?” I asked, noticing her perk up at the mention of his name. It was clear that she had been so engrossed in recent events that she had forgotten to check her messages.

“Haven’t checked my phone yet to see if he gave a response,” he said, pulling her phone from her pocket.

She showed me her phone after going through her messages. I leaned in to look at Sullivan's chat window. About an hour ago, he responded to her text message concerning Harley's arrival and the planned meeting in the library. He had said he was busy with some class meetings and could not attend.

“What do you make of this?” She asked, her brow wrinkled in thought.

“Do you think he’s lying?” I asked her a question in return.

“Isn’t your friend a member of Class 2? Shouldn’t she also be present if there was a class meeting?” Hazel said, her eyes narrowing.

“My friend?” I was a little perplexed at first.

“If you are referring to Natsumi, then yes, you are right about her being a member of Class 2,” I replied. “But from what she has told me, she has some problems with Tomiko, so maybe not attending a class meeting is something she would do.”

“I see. Besides, her having issues with Tomiko might prove useful,” she looked aside, lost in thought. “So, are we taking Sullivan’s word here?” she added, glancing back at me.

“Yes, but we are going to remain cautious because we can’t trust anyone except ourselves,” I said firmly.

That was the truth. Even though we really wanted to trust our members, we were unable to do so without harbouring some doubts. I was willing to treat them like enemies until the election was over, and it appeared Hazel thought the same thing.

“Agreed. We need to stay vigilant. Everyone has their own agenda, and we can’t afford to be blindsided.” Hazel said with a nod, her expression resolute.

For a brief while, we sat in silence, the sounds of the campus surrounding us filling the stillness. Students walked by, laughing and chatting, oblivious to the gravity of our conversation.

“With our team complete, the next thing we have to worry about is publicity,” I remarked as I observed Hazel inhale deeply and furrow her brow in contemplation. “Could Diya handle it?”

“She could, and I’m sure she would do an outstanding job, but she already has too much on her plate with all the clubs and activities she’s involved in. I don’t want to add this on her as well,” Hazel answered, her expression darkening.

“Alright then, but we do need someone for it,” I said while deciding what to do next.

“I do know someone, Kusumoto Yoko,” she said.

Kusumoto? The name seemed familiar, and then it clicked. “She was one of the nominees for our in-class voting, wasn’t she?”

“Exactly. The issue is, I’m not sure I can get in touch with her right now, except if we leave it till tomorrow in class,” she said, frustration creeping into her voice.

“And you don’t want to do that, do you?” I asked, smirking slightly.

“Yep. Let’s just say I’ve grown impatient,” she admitted, which made me chuckle.

“Alright then, I’m sure you have a plan,” I asked, leaning in slightly.

“Yep. She has a friend, Funai Takara, whom I have contacts with, so I'll call her and get her to organise a meeting with Kusumoto,” Hazel said, taking out her phone and typing rapidly. She soon placed it against her ear.

“Hey, Funai,” she said, then paused. “Sorry for calling you out of the blue, but I need your help. I need to meet Kusumoto, please.” She paused again. “Right now... Thanks, we’ll be right there.” She hung up the phone and stood up quickly.

“She’s currently at the second computer lab in our building, but we need to hurry; she’s about to leave,” she said, causing me to spring up as well.

“Alright then, let’s go,” I said, and we both began to move with purpose.

—

8.1

—

The chilly air from the air conditioner swept over us as the door opened. Inside the lab, Kusumoto Yoko stood alone, bent forward, engrossed in the screen of one of the computers. When we walked in, she gave a fleeting glance up before quickly turning back to the screen.

Hazel and I walked over to her workstation. Sensing our approach, Kusumoto looked up again, acknowledging us more fully.

“Hey, Kusumoto,” Hazel said, her voice friendly but direct.

“Hazel, Marcus, what's up?” Kusumoto answered with an inquisitive, although somewhat distracted.

“We need to talk to you about something important,” I said, stepping forward slightly.

“Alright, but can it be quick? I have somewhere to be,” Kusumoto replied, giving us the go-ahead and turning back to her screen.

“My election team is now complete, but there’s something we need your help with—publicity. I need to get our names into the mouths of students and get them talking,” I explained.

“That’s cool. I can handle that,” Kusumoto said quickly.

“Oh, thanks,” I said, surprised by her prompt acceptance.

“However…” Kusumoto continued, stopping me in my tracks. “I do have some conditions.”

“Go on,” Hazel responded, keeping her gaze fixed on Kusumoto.

“First, I need creative freedom. I don’t want to be micromanaged. Second, I want this to be a collaborative effort. I’ll handle the publicity, but I want to be involved in the overall strategy,” Kusumoto said firmly.

The first condition made perfect sense, but the second one made me somewhat suspicious. Before I could voice my concerns, Hazel spoke up.

“Alright, we accept the conditions,” she stated with assurance.

I glanced at Hazel, and our eyes met for a moment. I could tell from her expression that she trusted her decision, and I decided to follow her lead.

“Great. This is another opportunity for me to grow and add more to my merit. Don’t worry, just leave it to me,” Kusumoto remarked, smiling contentedly as she extended her hand.

“Great to have you on the team, Kusumoto,” I said, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.

“Looking forward to it,” Kusumoto replied. “I do need you to provide your campaign plan, though.”

“We’re working on that and will get back to you soon,” I assured her.

“Sure,” Kusumoto responded.

“Your contact information, please,” Hazel asked, and Kusumoto swiftly entered her number into Hazel's phone. “Thanks.”

This was completed far faster than anticipated. I thought Kusumoto would turn down our offer, pointing out that we were rivals during the in-class voting. I even prepared several counterarguments to points I predicted she might bring up. Fortunately, this interaction did not result in any wasted breath.

I glanced at Kusumoto's monitor as we turned to go and saw a file being transferred. A hard drive was plugged into one of the ports. I wasn't sure what she was doing or if it was within school regulations, but I decided not to dwell on it.

—

8.2

—

“Hazel?” I called out as we walked some distance from the computer lab.

“You want to know why I accepted the condition, right?” Hazel said, preempting my question.

“Exactly,” I answered.

“Simple. I had already done my digging on Kusumoto before this. We can trust her,” Hazel said, her tone confident.

“I see. You could have just told me that from the start,” I remarked, feeling both relieved and frustrated.

With a mischievous smile, Hazel turned back to me. “Oh, seems you are lagging behind in this. Guess I’m just better at investigation and negotiation than you are,” she teased.

“Oh, is that how you want to play it? Bring it on,” I said, laughing. as we both made our way out of the academic building.

“Tomorrow we may need to inform the class about our team members and what comes next,” Hazel commented thoughtfully as we strolled around the campus.

“I agree, but let’s consult our publicity expert beforehand. Who knows, she might have a plan,” I replied, and Hazel nodded in agreement.

“Do you know who from our class joined the other teams?” I asked, curious about our competition.

“Oh, I’m not sure for now. I’ll have to ask our classmates about that,” Hazel remarked.

“Alright, thanks,” I said, appreciating her dedication.

As we strolled about the campus, the sun began to set and cast a golden hue over the buildings. Students were still milling about, but the crowds had thinned. Our pace was slow, but I wasn’t complaining. I enjoyed Hazel’s company, finding her presence intriguing and comfortable.

“Thanks,” Hazel said suddenly, breaking the silence. I turned to face her, not sure I understood her.

“For trusting me during the speed reading test,” she elaborated, her eyes meeting mine with a sincerity that made my heart skip a beat.

“That’s all good,” I murmured, trying to play it cool but feeling a warmth spread through my chest.

“It might not seem like much, but I do feel grateful.” She continued in a gentle and sincere tone. I could tell she meant it, and I smiled softly in response.

“Plus, you didn’t lose me,” she said, and my cheeks flushed as I remembered my embarrassing comment from earlier.

I had said it without thinking, and now she was bringing it up, making me relive the awkwardness. I looked away, trying not to look embarrassed, but a quick glance at Hazel revealed that she was blushing too, her cheeks as red as mine.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“Why are you getting embarrassed?” I teased, trying to deflect my own discomfort.

“I don’t feel like answering that,” Hazel responded in a light-hearted but slightly bashful tone.

It was a weird but charming moment, one that made us both smile despite the blushes. We walked back to our dorm rooms in comfortable silence, each lost in our thoughts but enjoying the shared company.

—

8.3

—

“His area of focus is competition,” Hazel stated firmly.

“Competition?” I reiterated, perplexed by his selection of the campaign's top priority. It seemed an odd focus for a school election.

“Yep,” Hazel confirmed.

“Alright,” I said, crossing my arms and breathing a sigh of relief. It didn’t seem like an immediate threat to our plans.

“Aren’t you worried about that?” Harley asked, her tone tinged with concern.

“Not at the moment,” I said, brushing off the problem. “Are there any other concerns?” I asked, scanning the room for any raised hands or objections. The quiet, deafening silence meant that everyone had understood what I was trying to say.

Some days had gone by, and I found myself in one of the numerous small auditoriums with Hazel, Harley, Sullivan, and Kusumoto. We had just concluded one of our frequent strategy sessions. Although Kusumoto wasn’t an official member of our team, she attended as many meetings as she could. She argued that it was done to gain a better understanding of us and our intentions, with the goal of applying that insight to our publicity campaign. In just a few days, she had started spreading word about us to the junior classes, holding off on the seniors until our goals and plans were more defined—which they were now.

“With no concerns or questions, I hereby draw this meeting to a close,” I declared, causing everyone to get up and gather their belongings. Together we exited the auditorium and made our way through the hallways to our classrooms. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor.

A bunch of girls ran into Harley as we were walking, and their laughter could be heard all the way down the hall. I expected an apology, but instead, they gave her looks of disgust and whispered among themselves, smirking as they walked away.

“That was rude,” Hazel remarked, with a hint of annoyance in her voice. Harley gathered herself and dismissed the situation.

“It’s cool,” she muttered, trying to downplay it as she walked ahead. Harley was stopped in her tracks though, as Kusumoto stretched out and gripped her hand with a determined expression.

“No, it’s not cool. This has been going on for some time. It’s time you explained what’s happening,” Kusumoto stated in a furious tone.

Kusumoto was right. The subtle harassment has been escalating ever since Harley joined our team. Initially, it was a trivial thing that the majority of people would overlook. But the constant repetition of these small acts was causing significant distress.

“Harley, you need to talk to us,” Hazel urged, her concern evident.

Harley glanced first at the rest of us and then at Kusumoto's hand, which was still holding hers. With a sigh, she gave up at last. “Alright, I’ll tell you all,” she said, prompting Kusumoto to let go of her. “I’ve been ostracised from my class.”

“What?” Kusumoto exclaimed, shock evident on her face.

“Exactly as you heard. It started the moment I announced I was joining your team. Flicking the pen off my desk, bumping into me, gossiping about me when I’m around, and avoiding talking to me whenever possible,” Harley explained. “Even my friends.”

“This is most likely Cohen’s doing,” Hazel said, her tone grave. “He’s punishing you for breaking the rule he imposed. Does he have that much of a hold on your class?”

“Well, yes. His physique makes it difficult for almost anyone to oppose him, plus he is known to have violent tendencies,” Harley's voice trembled a little as she answered.

This was a problem—not just for the election, but for Harley’s well-being.

“Could we not classify this under bullying? We could report to the teachers,” Kusumoto suggested.

I shook my head in disagreement. “The reason what they’re doing to her isn't extreme is because they’re avoiding it being called that. He’s treading on the line between teasing and bullying. However, with how constant it is, you could make the argument that it’s bullying, but we need evidence.”

“Evidence? Isn't Harley's word enough?” Kusumoto asked, obviously distressed by the circumstances.

“Her word is important, but bullying is taken very seriously in this school, so having evidence would make things go quicker and would clear any doubts,” Sullivan explained.

“By doubts, you mean false reporting, right?” Kusumoto added.

“Exactly,” he confirmed. I had a question concerning this but decided to save it for later.

“Our best bet to stop this is to approach him and try to broker a deal,” Hazel suggested.

“No, don’t. If you guys try that, it would tell him that what he’s doing is working,” Harley pleaded, but I was having none of it, and neither was anyone else.

“So you want to just put up with it?” Harley remained silent to Sullivan’s question.

“It’s settled then. Hazel and I are going to talk to Cohen now. Kusumoto, could you carry on with the survey? I need a report by tomorrow,” I instructed.

“Alright,” Kusumoto responded, and with that, I turned to Hazel.

“Wait, stop,” Harley protested and attempted to pursue, but Sullivan intervened, stopping her in her tracks.

“You are part of our team; that means that this issue is also ours as well,” he reassured her, and that appeared to calm her down.

After that, Hazel and I headed to Class 3.

“Do you have a plan on how to solve this?” Hazel questioned me as we navigated through the throngs of students.

“At the moment? Not sure. This is already a risky move from Cohen because if I find a way to spin this in our favour, we can tank his vote during the election,” I remarked, my head buzzing with possible ideas.

“Our last resort is to get the teachers involved,” Hazel said.

“Of course,” I agreed as we reached Class 3 and opened the door. There weren't many people in the class because it was free period, but we felt the gaze of those present shift to us immediately.

The man we came looking for was seated to the side. Cohen was talking to another student while holding his phone in one hand. Upon noticing our arrival, the student said a few words to Cohen before leaving.

“Marcus, Hazel. What brings you both to our classroom today?” Cohen remarked, grinning as he looked up at us.

“You know already, so stop playing dumb. It’s about Harley,” I said, standing over him.

Leaning back in his chair, Cohen smirked up at me and dropped his phone on the table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, feigning innocence.

“Then explain why Harley has been ostracised,” Hazel demanded, her eyes narrowing.

“Ostracised? That’s insane. Why would you think that?” Cohen responded, his tone dripping with false concern.

This guy. I looked around the classroom and saw that everyone was listening intently to our conversation. My eyes fell on the student Cohen had been talking to earlier. He was writing something in a notebook, seemingly indifferent, but it was obvious he could hear every word.

My eyes then turned to a person I recognised: Ohara Kameko, the girl who had been with Harley when we first met. She had her seat drawn up to an empty desk in the second row. When our eyes met, she quickly looked away, a sign of guilt.

Deny all you want, but try to use better methods rather than scummy ones like the ones you’re using,” I said to Cohen.

“You could try acting smart for once,” Hazel said, turning to leave. But just as she did, Cohen’s hand shot out towards her. I reacted quickly, grabbing his wrist firmly.

“Could you not behave like a rabid animal?” I said, holding onto Cohen’s hand tightly.

“I wasn’t trying to do anything to her,” Cohen replied, trying to force his hand free, but my grip was strong. His smirk turned into a scowl. After several unsuccessful attempts, he relaxed his arm, and I let go.

“Let’s go,” I said to Hazel, and as we exited the classroom, I felt the eyes of everyone follow us until we left.

“That was a complete failure,” I muttered, scratching the top of my head. “On both regards,” I added, pulling my phone from my pocket.

“Recording?” Hazel asked, her eyes widening slightly.

“Yep. If we had gotten him to spill, we would have had evidence to report to the teachers or use against him during the election. However, he saw through that somehow,” I remarked, a little frustrated.

“He never struck me as the clever type,” Hazel said, shaking her head. “Oh, and thanks for what you did back there,” she added with a thankful look on her face.

“It was nothing,” I said.

“Stop trying to downplay it,” she sighed. “How about learning to take some compliments?”

When she asked, I just grinned. Up ahead, I saw Harley walking alone. “Harley, wait up!” I called out.

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned back. “Where are you heading?” I asked as Hazel and I caught up to her.

“I was debating if I should enter my class or not, but I decided to leave it till later. So, I’m heading to the library now,” she answered.

“Wait, Harley. You could stay in our class during your free time,” I offered.

“That’s nice of you, but no. I don’t want to get in the way,” she replied with a gentle smile. “Don’t worry about me. Cohen may have stopped everyone from interacting with me, but I’m not going to let that get to me. Let’s just focus on winning this thing. I gotta go now,” she said, leaving us both behind.

“This entire thing is an issue we have to deal with,” Hazel said.

“You guys mentioned that the school is wary of false reporting?” I asked, referencing our previous conversation.

“Yes, they are. That’s why we need solid evidence before we can submit anything to the teachers for them to actually take action,” Hazel answered.

“From the way it sounded, this has happened before, hasn’t it? Someone falsely reported?” I asked the question that I had held back earlier.

Hazel nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Exactly. I don’t know the specifics because it happened about four years ago. I was still in middle school, and the incident occurred in the high school department. Knowing what happens over there was already difficult, but this case was huge enough that everyone at least knew it was happening,” she said.

“I do know that two people were expelled, one of whom made a false claim. That’s why the school takes matters like this so seriously and why evidence is so crucial,” she added.

I nodded, absorbing the information. This event was the catalyst for a significant shift in the school's policy regarding the handling of disputes. It seemed like the perfect topic to dig deeper into for some insight. I thought of Haku-senpai, who might be able to share more details related to it.

An idea sparked in my mind—a theory about Harley's friend, Ohara Kameko. There was something off about her and this situation, but I needed more information to work with.

“I do have an idea that could bring forth a possible solution,” I told Hazel.

“You do? What is it?” She asked, curious.

“It’s only an assumption right now, but I need to talk with someone to help me out with it. I’ll tell you what I find out after that,” I said, keeping the details vague.

“Very suspenseful. But I’ll leave you to it then,” Hazel added, with a playful smile. “Come on. Let’s head back to class,” she said, and we proceeded to our classroom together.

As we walked, my mind raced with possibilities. If my hunch about Ohara was correct, we might have a way to turn the tables on Cohen. But first, I needed to gather more information.

—

8.4

—

“Sherman?” Kailey said, laying carelessly on my bed with her legs kicking up against the wall.

“Yep, find the person with that last name,” I replied, sitting at my desk chair with a cup of water in hand.

“That sounds like work,” she groaned, kicking the wall lightly with her foot.

“You were the one who said you wanted to help with my election campaign,” I reminded her.

“Exactly, help with advertising. Not being a private detective,” she lamented, to which I laughed and took a quick sip from my water.

“You're a very picky person. I blame Dad again,” I said, shaking my head.

“You always do,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, once I find this Sherman girl, what am I supposed to do next?”

“Just ask about her sister and her friends, that's all,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

“Anything a bit more specific than that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For now, no,” I said.

“For now? Don't tell me I’m becoming a medium for you to talk to this girl,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

“The thing is, I don’t want her sister to find out that I approached her. Even using you is a risk, but I can’t trust anyone else on this,” I explained.

“Aww, he trusts me.” I choose to ignore her playful teasing.

“When you do get some information out of her, tell me immediately,” I instructed.

“Yes, sir,” She taunted again, then kicked herself to sit upright. “Now, remember that whole thing about me being in a love triangle?”

“Why? Did you get told off?” I joked, and she scoffed loudly, crossing her arms.

“Very funny. Anyway, I figured out who the guy and girl are. The guy’s name is Kitahara. I’ll rate him a 7 out of 10, which isn’t that bad, but I’m sure I could do better,” Kailey said.

“Delusions are strong,” I commented.

“Delusions are strong,” she repeated in a mocking, babyish tone. “The girl’s name is Emma. I actually do know her quite well. She’s pretty sweet and a nice person.”

“So, you feel guilty for trying to cause drama out of all this, right?” I asked, hoping my demon of a sister had gained some compassion.

“Hell no,” she exclaimed.

“Are you sure you’re my sister? Sometimes I just think you’re the devil’s incarnate,” I said, shaking my head.

She laughed loudly. “All I’ve done so far is just lead on Kitahara, but I’m getting tired of that. So I have no ideas at the moment, and I’m just thinking of telling Walter I’m not interested.”

“That’s a good thing. You’re making progress,” I said, attempting to be encouraging.

“Screw progress. I was hoping you would have any interesting ideas,” she asked. I just stared at her blankly, and she sighed. “Oh yeah, have you heard about this party happening on the 17th?”

“What party?” I asked.

“Apparently, it’s taking place at a club and being hosted by one of the seniors.” She waited for me to say something, but I just remained quiet. “You live under a rock,” she said, and I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on going,” I asked.

“Uh, of course, I want to go. Some of my friends are going, and it seems fun,” she answered.

“Have you forgotten that is the day we were meant to go to Universal Studios?” I reminded her.

“It seems you’ve forgotten that those two things happen at different times of the day,” she countered.

“So you’re planning on attending both? Dad would not like it if he found out you attended a party,” I remarked, crossing my arms.

“That is only if you tell him about it,” she said, looking irritated.

“You know I have to,” I said.

“Ugh, God, you are bullshitting me, Marcus,” she said, turning over to her side and falling silent for a few minutes. Was my action wrong? I didn’t think so. Considering that she was planning to attend a club, I felt obligated to inform our father about it.

A solution would have been for me to accompany her there, but I was not inclined to do so. Then an idea came to mind, one that could benefit us both.

“Kailey, I have a proposal,” I said, leaning forward.

“Go on,” she replied, not even bothering to turn and look at me.

“Give me your pass for Universal Studios,” I said, interlocking my fingers.

“What?” She said, at last turning to face me, her expression showing confusion. “Why would I do that?”

“Because it is the only way I’ll let you go to that party without informing Dad,” I said, watching her reaction closely.

“So you’re planning on inviting someone with you?” She asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Maybe,” I answered, maintaining a casual tone.

“Do you know how expensive that ticket is? Plus, Dad got it for me as an early birthday gift,” Kailey said.

“Well, I’m just putting that proposal out there,” I said, shrugging. She averted her gaze from me once more and became quiet. The only sound in the room was the soft ticking of the wall clock. After what seemed like an eternity, Kailey finally spoke.

“I’m sleeping on your bed tonight,” she declared.

“Do you want me to kick you off it? Better head back to your room,” I said, standing up.

“Nope,” she said, her tone defiant.

Reaching the bed, I took hold of her leg. “You won’t dare,” Kailey said, turning her head to glare at me.

“Bet,” I said, beginning to drag her off the bed. Taking hold of the bed's edges and anything else she could find, she resisted. Despite her efforts, I pulled harder, and with a loud thud, she hit the floor.

“Are you okay?” I asked, looking down at her as she lay face down on the floor.

“Yep. Nothing’s broken,” she said, pushing herself up with a groan.

“Great. Now find your way out of my room,” I responded, folding my arms and standing over her.

“You really are mean,” she said, wrapping my duvet around her as she headed towards the door.

“Drop it before leaving,” I said, pointing at the duvet.

“Sherman is the individual you want me to find, right? It might take some time, but I’ll get back to you in a few days,” she said, disregarding my earlier instructions and opening the door.

“Kailey,” I warned.

“And I’ll also try to end the whole love triangle drama. Although, I’ll do it in a classy way,” she smiled, her mischievous eyes glistening.

I knew what she was about to do, so I braced myself. As soon as she darted out the door, I gave chase.

“GIVE ME BACK MY DUVET!” I screamed, sprinting after her down the hallway.