Hindsight is a beautiful thing which people look upon with regret. It sometimes takes years to realize you've done something wrong.

Sometimes, it only takes seconds.

I regret the words coming out of my mouth the moment they spring freely into the space between Marisa and me. This can't happen. I can't let someone else in.

But it's been done. Her face lights up and she sits back on her bed, away from me, which is exactly where I want her and everyone else. My palms are sweaty so I wipe them on my jeans.

"So how are we going to do things?" she asks, unaware of my change of heart.

I can back out, I know I can, but I don't want her butting into my business. And I especially don't want to reach a point where I would be stuck without her.

"We are not going to do anything. I will give you access to the incoming rumor mill and you can help me sort through them."

Her eyes darken, but she fortunately keeps her mouth shut about how little control I'm willing to give up. Well, tough. If she wants to work with me, she'll have to get used to it.

"Fair enough." She stands and heads for her dresser from which she pulls out a small box.

It's one of those godawful tacky things with a heart on the lid and bedazzled ad nauseam. I want to puke just looking at it.

"I don't know why or how come," Marisa starts, "but TMI happened exactly after my own unpleasant incident with the golden circle." She pulls out a piece of paper and shows it to me.

Even if it's been only six months, I feel a bit nostalgic seeing the flyer that advertised the existence of TMI. I had to be careful when crafting it so that it would draw attention and not indicate anything about the person behind it. So I used the Petraka Academy stationary and a professional, neutral font.

The message was also clear:

Knowledge is power.

Too much information? You can never have too much information! Not in our day and age.

So it makes no sense for rumors to fly about with no way to know if they're real.

It makes no sense to get in trouble over things that never happened.

Enter TMI, the new hit app used by millions of students worldwide. If you have a suspicion or a juicy piece of gossip, enter it in the app and watch it either be confirmed (with proof) or dismissed.

It's free, effective, and will make sure you're always up to speed with school life.

TMI is here for you. TMI never lies. Because there is no such thing as Too Much Information.

I still remember how nervous I was on the day I spread these out in school, afraid no one would download the app, that no one would trust it. The use of worldwide was bullshit, meant to sell, because this app has always been designed with one single school in mind. Petraka.

It was slow. I saw people picking up the flyers and reading them, but no one rushed to their app store to get it. Even if I didn't expect them to, it was still disappointing.

So I had to do it the old fashioned way. Use a rumor that interested Rosie Geld, whisper it on school corners and wait for her to pick up on it and want to prove it. It was pure luck that Maria Solis was too high up the food chain to attack without proof or warning. Unlike other people. Unlike Audrey.

But no, Maria was also the daughter of a senator, and had an important following of her own. A contender for the title of queen bee. So Rosie turned to TMI. The moment the rumor was confirmed, two things happened.

Maria fell from grace and TMI rose to stardom. It's been careful, grueling work ever since. But I'm proud. And strangely touched that Marisa kept her flyer.

"I tried for months to figure out how it worked," Marisa continues. "I even checked a few of the rumors myself. But TMI is always right. TMI has proof. And now that you're here, I understand why."

I pull further away from her, the words rubbing me the wrong way. "What exactly do you understand?"

"That you needed a way to dismiss rumors, too. Your way is genius, though. I haven't been able to figure out how."

I frown as I try to remember if I've ever heard any rumor about Marisa Delterre and Davey Postvam. Or just about her for that matter. But I draw a blank.

The logical thing would be to ask her about the rumor, but that would prove I am flawed and there's no way I'm admitting any weakness in front of a stranger. Maybe she's actually in cahoots with Rosie and she's trying to catch me wrong-footed.

"Anyway, I will help you within your terms," she continues. "And when the time comes and you'll need further proof about the golden circle, we can negotiate participation. Until then, I'll continue my work and see if it would be useful."

"Your work?" I hate that I sound surprised, but I am.

She stands from the bed and comes at me. I retreat further into my chair, but she doesn't want to touch me, just pick up something from a drawer of her desk. It's a complicated chart with names and places, but she doesn't let me look.

"You have an app, I have a map," Marisa says with a grin. "There are three months left until graduation, and there's no way I'm letting them get away with things. Pulling the title of valedictorian out from under Rosie's snout is one thing, but that won't fix what they did to me."

Why don't I know what they did to her? How has this escaped me? It is very unlikely that I'd still hear about it, especially since it happened before TMI, but...

Maybe it was over summer break. Maybe it happened while I was out of school. It's picking away at my nerves, but I don't think there's any way for me to find out unless I, or someone else just asks. Marisa or anyone else at Petraka.

I file that away for later consideration and return to the manic girl with a map in front of me.

"Okay, fine. Here's what's going to happen. TMI is currently on tier three. We need to cover a large part of it before we move to tier two. Then we can finally reach what you call the golden circle and what I call tier one."

"Wait, what?"

My brain is racing and in spite of my better judgment, I'm getting excited. I roll on her desk chair and grab a random piece of paper.

"For a valedictorian, you're slow." I pick up a random pencil and draw a crude pyramid with five levels. "Easy peasy. Tier five is the largest one, filled with losers and normal kids. This is a free for all and TMI activated solely here after the Maria Solos incident. It's also where the majority of students at Petraka stand. Then there's tier four. Moderately popular kids. Until today, TMI operated here. Then we jumped to tier three which is filled with the likes of Jace Rosenberg, Hunter Gilligan and Ginny Jones."

"Those are pretty popular people," Marisa points out, as if I don't know that or how my own tier system works. "Their parents are in Congress."

Who the fuck cares? "I know. But you have a point about three months. We need to get through tiers three and two before we can reach the real targets. Tier one."

I write their names down. My mantra.

Rosie Geld.

Rod Wiseman.

Miranda Washington.

Martin Hirsch.

Donna Jensen.

Davey Postvam.

Ava Park.

Antoine Laurent.

Lexi Kramer.

Lucas Brandt.

Marisa looks over my shoulder. "This the order in which you want to take them down?"

I glare at her. "Of course not. Rosie will be last. Her and that idiot, Rod. I haven't exactly figured out the order yet. It's not like I'm close to tier one."

Marisa hums and I instantly hate admitting to not knowing something.

"You're right," she finally says. "No use thinking about that now. We can figure it out when we get there."

"Do you have an order?"

"Yeah, but I'm still working on fine-tuning everything."

Fucking overachiever. I watch her folding her map, wishing I could get my hands on it. But she would know it's me. I could break in and take photos with my phone, but I'm pretty sure she's going to hide it after I'm gone.

"Who's on level two?' Marisa suddenly asks.

"Tier two," I correct instantly. If she's so smart, she could at least keep up with the official terms.

She shrugs but keeps staring at me, waiting for an answer. I bite my lip, taking her in. She's tall and athletic, a few pounds over the acceptable limit to be a Petraka Barbie. Even if she's nowhere near it, Rosie probably calls her fat behind her back. In a one on one, Marisa would probably break Rosie over her knee. Her and all her stick friends.

Unfortunately, without weapons, she would probably pound me into oblivion, too. Which sucks, but I'm definitely not athletic. I never was. I always valued brains over brawn. It just never dawned to me you can have both. Or that I would ever need both.

The body is frail and ever subject to change. It's your mind, your skills, your determination, that makes you a real person.

I am real.

So is Marisa Delterre.

And she asked me a question.

"Meredith Anderson," I finally answer. "Yuri Ono and you." Because they're the only people who are as high up as the golden circle, but not inside it.

"Not a lot of people in tier two," she immediately notices.

I just shrug. It wasn't a problem before this because I always assumed they are all free game. But if Marisa is in on it, I only have one rumor for the entire tier because I don't know jack squat about Yuri Ono. He doesn't even come to school much.

"We're not there yet, either."

She accepts that and looks at her watch. Very subtle, but I want out of there even more than she wants me out.

"How will I know when you grant me access?"

"You'll start seeing a different section in the app."

"You should give me your phone number."

"Fuck no."

Marisa rolls her eyes and I just want to punch her pretty face in.

"Your schedule, then."

"Um, how do I say this nicely? Fuck no."

"Then how are we supposed to communicate, genius?"

"I'll find you when I'll need you."

"What if I need you?"

"Don't." And with that, I hop off her chair and slide out her window.

I half expect her to ruin my epic oneliner, but she stays quiet and lets me disappear into the night.

After I'm three blocks down from her place, I bend my knees, rest my hands on them, lower my head, and just breathe.

My heart is rampaging inside my chest and I'm gravitating from sheer panic to unhealthy enthusiasm. I haven't had such a long human interaction in months. And I pulled it off. I was in control. I found an ally. Or a potential traitor.

I will give Marisa Delterre access, but she is now also under my close watch. And one way or another, I will find her reason for revenge. I will figure out what Davey Postvam did to her.

And, if it comes to it, I will use it against her.

After all, you can't trust anyone but yourself.