Perk Mage.

Friday, April 28th

Location: Wolfpack Hallway

Operation: None

13:00

I think I’ve made it.

For real, Jamal hasn’t done a thing for the last two days. It’s been quiet, which is a nice change. Mage Football is only a couple of weeks away, and everything’s going smoothly. Maybe I can finally catch a break. I told Greg about the whole Jamal thing, and he was... well, relieved. Really relieved. I remember him saying, “Now, try to keep your drama to yourself. I’ve got my own stuff to handle.”

Honestly, I can’t blame him. The FMA’s been pretty boring for him lately. Ever since I told him about the mole, he’s been going off on conspiracy theories about the students here. Guess he needed some drama of his own to mix things up.

But the moment I try to get him involved in mine, he backs off. His loss.

Today, though, Greg was still running his mouth about his latest theories.

“Remember Leslie?” Greg started, his voice dropping into that ‘I’m about to drop some knowledge’ tone. “Yeah, the one who’s always acting like some sort of justice-driven superhero. She got suspended from the FMA for three weeks. If she even graduates, who knows. But here’s the thing: I heard a lot of talk about her name before the suspension,” he added.

“Mhm,” I replied, half listening.

“So, according to some students—and this is all just stuff I pieced together since no one can get the story straight—apparently, she had a night out with a BMO agent. One of those ‘nights’,” he said, air quoting the word ‘nights’ like it was some deep, hidden meaning.

“A BMO agent? And she’s not in jail?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. The FMA figured suspending her would keep her from spilling more intel. Keep her out long enough, and maybe they’ll just retire her quietly,” Greg said, shrugging.

“And the YMPA or any other EMO groups don’t know?” I asked.

Greg gave me a look that made me feel like an idiot. “How do you think they don’t know about your situation?”

I sighed, half-laughing. “Fair point.”

“No one wants a mole. That’s career suicide, man. Imagine the superintendent’s credibility being shot. People don’t like being fired,” Greg explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, the suspension’s still sketchy. Are you sure these aren’t just rumors?”

Greg furrowed his brow. “It’s definitely weird. This happened three days ago, but nothing for two days straight. Then bam, rumors, suspension. Makes you think.”

“Because you think there’s a mole?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

Greg grinned wide. “You, sir, are a detective. Absolutely. Leslie? This ‘justice warrior’ gets herself tangled up with a BMO agent? It’s too perfect. She got played, for sure.”

“Right, so now the EMO’s getting hit with a bunch of MSTO moles. What’s that say about their security?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

Greg puffed out his chest dramatically. “Hey, that’s why we’re here, man. And by the way, I’m going above and beyond, so I should get an award for this.”

I shot him a look. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Greg groaned. “Let a man dream for once. So, am I gonna get ambushed by Jamal today?”

“No,” I replied. “He hasn’t done anything since I told him about Nikki. He knows better than to mess with me now.”

“Really?” Greg raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”

“Didn’t I tell you how Nikki responded?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

Greg shook his head, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Nope. All you said was you told Nikki, and everything’s supposedly fine now. I don’t trust you.”

“Your loss,” I said with a shrug. “Anyway, what happened was... well, let’s just say Nikki had a lot to say.”

“Care to elaborate with actual details?” Greg asked.

What followed was thirty minutes of hysterical laughter.

Greg’s face turned redder than a tomato as he laughed, gasping for breath. He could barely get his words out.

“Oh... oh... oh my—” he stammered between fits of laughter. “You gotta be kidding me!”

I let him laugh it out, the tension easing from my shoulders with each chuckle.

By the time I got to the YMPA, I immediately noticed something was off. Two guys in suits, looking like ceremonial guards from England—except they were dressed in white navy hats and blue suits instead of red and bearskin hats—stared at me. They weren’t looking at me like I was an artifact, but they were definitely curious.

As I walked through the building, people stared at me from every direction. Was I imagining this?

Maybe it was just the residual fear from Jamal or something. But no, I was wrong. I was definitely wrong.

Two girls, probably best friends, stopped to take pictures of me. They didn’t even try to hide it.

What is going on?

I couldn’t figure it out. Why was everyone staring? But then, I saw Malachi and his crew approaching. He waved off his friends before walking up to me alone.

“Careful, Malachi,” one of his friends said, almost in a warning tone.

Malachi gave me a serious look. “Follow me,” he whispered, his voice low.

Without saying another word, he led me toward the bathrooms. As we passed, I noticed Nikki and Tisiah standing by the stairs, watching us closely. Their faces shifted from curiosity to concern.

Malachi waited for two guys to leave the bathroom before we entered. Once inside, he pulled out his wand and froze the lock on the door.

“What happened?” he asked, his tone tense.

“What do you mean ‘what happened’?” I asked, starting to feel the fear creep back in. “People have been staring at me, taking pictures, and now you’re asking what’s going on? I have no idea what’s going on.”

Malachi raised his eyebrows. “Pictures? You’ve probably made it to a quarter of my fame.”

“Doesn’t sound like much,” I shot back.

He chuckled. “You managed to get the whole school talking about you.”

“About what?” I asked, still confused.

“You apparently tried to kill an agent using one of the MP weapons provided. And someone ratted you out to Principal Renner,” Malachi said, his grin fading into a serious expression.

My stomach dropped.

Two days of silence, and now I’m being accused of what happened with Mari. But only three people would know about that:

Mari, obviously.

Jamal (and his crew).

Tisiah and Nikki.

There’s no way Tisiah or Nikki would snitch. Mari might, but Jamal had every reason to. After Nikki rejected him, he looked at me like I was the one in the wrong.

It had to be Jamal. Even after I helped him, he still snitched.

“And now, they think you’re an informant,” Malachi said. “Is that true?”

I looked at him, wide-eyed. “No!”

Malachi sighed and shook his head. “Should’ve known.”

“Why would I tell you if I was an informant?” I asked, my frustration building.

“Because you’re scared of me,” he said confidently.

I opened my mouth to argue, but closed it, realizing he had a point. Malachi smiled at my silence.

“Listen, I’ll make a deal with you,” Malachi began. “Remember Mage Football?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I muttered, still processing everything.

“Apparently, you need B’s or higher to participate. Principal Renner said so. And I’ve got a ton of missing assignments. So, here’s the deal: I’ll help clear your name, and you do my homework. We both get to be in Mage Football,” he said, grinning like he just found a way to win.

“Mage Football isn’t my biggest concern right now,” I said, rubbing my forehead.

“Emphasis on biggest,” Malachi said, a smirk creeping onto his face. “But it’s still a concern, right?”

I sighed and slowly nodded. He smiled, clearly satisfied.

“Now, let’s get out of here before they start accusing me too,” he said.

He melted the ice from the door, and we stepped back into the hallway. Just as we started walking toward the cafeteria, we froze.

Four security guards and Principal Renner rounded the corner. The hallway went silent. Renner’s eyes locked onto mine, cold and furious.

“Apprehend Connor, please,” he said, his voice firm and full of authority.