The Geek Revolution ✓

59 | willing

IT HAS TO BE TERRENCE.

He has to be the one to end the Revolution. I don't know how I didn't draw that conclusion the day he sat down next to me on the bus, with his intimate knowledge of the school, of Brittany, his unbreakable good spirits, and his tenacity to vie for my friendship even when I shot him down at every turn.

Terrence and I had spent the remainder of our Home Ec. period hashing out how to disband the Monarchy, discourage anyone else from taking the mantle next year, and end the Revolution, once and for all. His change in demeanour from defeated to hopeful was certainly welcome, if unexpected. We communicated via call and text for three days, tuning our plans.

Except, now it's Saturday and I've been waiting for an hour at the Stereo Shack. It's official: I've been stood up. No-one's ever stood me up. At least, not before today.

Though, I suppose I should have seen it coming. My 'date' is with the four Monarchs, after all. Last night, I slept confident and well-assured. But now I wonder if Terrence crapped out. I'm sitting alone in a six-seater booth, fending off suspicious glances my way, painfully surrounded by happy couples and friends.

Though, being embarrassingly alone is my own fault really. The option of having my friends come today was present. Delaney was actually vehemently against leaving me at the mercy of those cold-blooded snakes today — her words, not mine — but I convinced her.

It's enough of a long shot without five revolutionaries thrown into the mix. With only me, I'm sure the Monarchs will feel less threatened, thus more at ease, thus more likely to acquiesce.

In an attempt to appear occupied, I chew slowly on my custard doughnuts. The second I finish, I know I will officially become that lonely girl in denial who's eaten through all her illusions and has to face the harsh truth: rejection.

And I don't want to be that girl. Not today. I pull out my phone and text Terrence. Where are you?

No reply comes. A sigh of frustration escapes me. It is, disappointingly, the seventh text I've sent Terrence this morning questioning the Monarchs' whereabouts. When it comes to something as high-stakes as this, I have no shame. Anger, however; now, that's something I have in spades.

Slowly, the roiling, heated fury in my gut builds and builds until I cannot take it. At this point, I'm livid, disappointed, and humiliated. I don't know if I'll ever see Terrence again — being as close to graduation as we are — but for his safety, he'd better pray I don't.

I've had enough. Slinging my handbag over my shoulder, I clear my table and dump the rubbish. My intentions are to hightail it home and try to erase this disastrous day from memory, but apparently, the universe has other plans.

The bell rings before his tall frame appears in my line of sight. Terrence locks eyes with me as he enters the Shack, his face contorted into a guilt-ridden expression. Madison, Derek, and Reece are behind him, looking far from enthusiastic.

My mouth is suddenly bone-dry. A strong impulse to make a run for it and abandon our plans tugs at me, deliciously offering me the prospect of ending this already-torturous day. But in the end, I have to ignore such impulses.

This meeting has the potential to end it all, so for the Revolution's sake, I have to see it through. As I draw nearer to Terrence, the blatant apology in his eyes becomes brighter, like a lighthouse's beacon blinking outwards.

He fastens his pace, pulling ahead of his friends to murmur quickly under his breath, "Sorry, sorry, sorry. I was here on time, but after ten minutes when no-one showed, I went looking. Turns out Reece slept in, Madison chickened out and Derek was outside the whole time but too nervous to meet you without the rest of us, so, here we are. Sorry."