THE TATTERED COVER I THROW over the piano sends billows of dust waltzing through the air.

Callum tosses a similar sheet over the drum kit while the rest of our band get our things ready to leave Music class. Despite Derek disappearing upon hearing the first chime of the bell, Madison is still here. As I'm about to leave, she coos my name like she would a dog's. Automatically, my jaw tenses and I turn to glare at her.

"What?"

Yesterday is still seared and stinging in my brain. Thoughts of Kyler and the newspaper have been seamlessly on replay for the whole day. I'm lucky our teacher doesn't care whether his lessons are noticed, or I would have landed a detention for being so inattentive. My bandmates noticed my attitude but once I explained what Terrence, Madison and Brittany had done, they looked like they understood bitterly.

"Did you and your friend see the little surprise Brittany left you?"

I honestly can't believe how she could speak so lightly about the destruction of years' worth of work. But then again, all that screen time must have numbed her sympathies. My right hand twitches at my side, overwhelmed with the urge to slap the fake eyelashes off her face.

When I begin to advance on her, walking slowly, casually towards her, Madison startles backwards. Watched by my bandmates, she stumbles out into the hallway. Madison's perfect, plucked eyebrows shoot upwards.

"No need to be touchy," she says shakily. I think she's apprehensive of both my silence and my steady steps towards her. In truth, I don't talk only because I don't trust myself to. Losing my temper won't be a good look, because she'll see that she's gotten to me.

Since the last time I saw it, Madison's bedazzled phone has acquired even more rhinestones, which wasn't that long ago as she's always swiping away in class. Hurriedly, she shoves a photo in my face.

A photo of Kyler and I hugging the press room. Madison swipes right, and another photo comes up. This time, Kyler kneeling on the floor. One more: a panorama of the full disaster site, presumably before we discovered it.

Now, I simply have to defend Kyler. I've calmed down enough from yesterday to not go looking for all five Monarchs and doing something stupid. But knowing that Madison had come back to take pictures of us while Kyler was breaking down and I was comforting him makes the rage flare up again, renewed and magnified.

"You're heartless. You and your friends have the nerve to steal the print machines, try to take all the money we earned and then you want to sneak photos of someone else's grief?" Madison takes shuffling steps backwards in her pastel pumps while I rage like chaos itself. "For what? To spread rumours with? Leverage?"

Her phone is still held defensively at her chest, like it can protect her. Ha! Did she think she could get me lashing out on camera? It's just too bad that what I'll say next has been thought over and purposefully created. These words can go all over social media, and I would give it my blessing.

"Do you have any idea how much that newspaper meant to Kyler? It means as much to him as all your Instagram followers probably do to you, despite most of them not actually giving a shit about a callous, desperate airhead like yourself. But what's more unbelievable is that Brittany clicks her fingers and you just mindlessly rip it all to shreds. Have you heard of a conscience, Madison?"

Madison stops videoing and lowers her phone when I say, "If that was meant to be a warning, then consider me warned. Take that and put it on your social media sites. God knows it's the only thing you'll ever be wanted for — by Brittany, or anyone else."

Relentlessly, I hold her gaze until her forehead is shiny despite the powder, and eyes quivering from discomfort. Madison is a strange creature. Cunningly articulate online, yet always the first of the Monarchy to be struck speechless when confronted in public. Maybe she doesn't have as much nerve as she makes out.

A few more moments of abrasive staring, Madison drops her head and averts her eyes in a borderline ashamed manner. Her phone slips into her pocket and she slinks out of the hallway.

Having settled enough to think and observe, I move to my next class.

With the decibels I reached, I'm not surprised at the numbers of people staring at me. I try to avoid the eyes as much as possible. They'll be mostly judgemental, a bit wary, and somewhat curious. The outbursts I brought to Carsonville in my first months here gave me an unshakeable image. The hallway brawl, carwash and video all paint me to be a vile troublemaker, though I dispute the being vile part.

I don't really mind being a troublemaker, so long as it's the right kind. But these last few months have barely been troublesome. The surface of the pond has stilled and the Revolution is now steadily churning at the very bottom, not yet making waves but ready to.

And because of the stillness, my reputation of being temperamental — though I've behaved meticulously, purposefully for most of the year — has faded. But God forbid I lose control once; now I can see the don't-talk-to-Sophie-she's-volatile looks emerging again in the eyes of my peers.

"Go you," Ashley's voice emerges from behind me.

I turn to see the Unofficials smiling at me. Leah approaches me and gives me the hug I really needed. "Don't worry about what people will say. She deserved it."

I thank and farewell my friends — except Callum, who walks with me to AP English. Delaney is already in her usual seat when we arrive. Dropping our things either side of her, I lean closer to whisper, "Have you heard about the newspaper?"

Delaney's face remains stony, which I know is just her default, defense mechanism. Unless she decides to tell me, I know I'd never be able to get the truth out of her. Nothing gets in or out unless she wants it to.

"Yes. I went to drop off the next draft for the next article and the door was open." Sympathy crosses her eyes. "How's Kyler?"

"Terrible. But not for long."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

There's a squeal of metal on metal in the room.

Principal Fisher is leaning back in his big, executive chair, after just having heard our pitch to save the newspaper. His weight makes the joints of it creak. "You kids are crazy."

Delaney chuckles, "Haven't we already established that?"

"Indeed we have, Miss Morrison. But I wanted to check if you are sure about doing this. There are serious consequences if this doesn't work out, you know? You will be liable. Not your parents. You're adults now."

"We know." We, being the five revolutionaries currently jam-packed into Fisher's office. He only wanted two spokespeople, but I insisted all of us be present to pitch the idea. I clear my throat and cross my hands. "So will you do it?"

Fisher stares everyone down, trying to shake us enough to back down. I think he meets the gaze of all of my friends before me. He seems to see something unrelenting in me, because he sighs. "Okay. I'll get the caretaker to set up the print machines again. They'll be operational by tomorrow afternoon," he murmurs flippantly. "Apologise to the editor on my behalf."

Fisher sniffs, looking a bit uncomfortable that five students managed to sway him. Then again, the Monarchy's been swaying him this way and that for years. He dismisses us and we leave the admin block as quickly as possible afterwards.

"Thanks guys, for doing this," I say once in the chilly winter air.

They chorus back their responses.

"No problem."

"You're welcome."

"Of course."

Benjamin walks to his silver Camry, and Delaney gets into Leah's car because they carpool, leaving Drew and I to take our usual bus home. Kyler will be ecstatic when he hears this news. It will be a welcome change from the way he's been lately, subdued in classes and taciturn.

Usually, the silent treatment doesn't have any effect on me but with Kyler, it's different. Having someone who's always been vocal suddenly stop talking is alarming, and I'm scared of how he might be affected if this situation doesn't improve.

"Kyler's lucky to have a friend like you, Sophie."

I smile sadly. An image of him on the floor, the sound of his panicked breathing, flashes in my mind, then the hatred for the Monarchy comes fiercely back. Other than the obvious, what I hate most about this school is the constant drama. The changing of emotions. If they were mild changes, like clear waves lapping at the shoreline, I could handle it.

But they are always strong. They always drain me, and leave little bruises on my heart. I never know what to expect, so I've just come to expect the worst.

"And I'm lucky to have friends like you."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Kyler's shoulders are tense under my palms. His arms are outstretched in front of him, waving around as I guide him through the hallway. "Blindfolding me was really unnecessary," he says dully.

"Unnecessary, but very important." I slap Kyler's hand as he tries to pull Leah's scarf off his head. "Just be patient."

"There's really no point, Sophie. I know we're going to the print room. I've been walking to and from it for years, remember?"

"Yes, I know. But we have a surprise for you."

"The surprise better be worth the injuries." Embarrassingly, I've steered Kyler into a wall and two lockers on the way here, in an effort to avoid the people walking through the halls.

When we arrive at the print room, Delaney lets us in and I untie the scarf. "Well, is it worth it?"

With shiny eyes and an open mouth, Kyler traces the sides of the print machines. A smile is lighting up his face the longer he stares. He looks like he doesn't have enough hands to touch them all at once, flitting from machine to machine, familiarising himself again.

Those machines are really clunky, and heavy. The caretaker had to disassemble them to fit the parts through the door. Before reassembling them inside, we also gave the inkjets a clean, and had maintenance spruce up the machines.

"What?" Kyler whispers. Disbelief is written all over his face, except for that radiant smile which reminds me of summer sunsets.

"We are bringing back the Carsonville Chronicle, better than ever."

"How'd you—"

"Don't interrupt. We have this all rehearsed, just watch," I whisper. "Thanks to Drew, our technical and graphics expert, the front page has a new layout and template. He's redesigned the templates for stories inside with a new, minimalistic style."

"New features have been added," Delaney adds. "An advice column, by yours truly, a crossword, horoscope, and puzzles page edited by Benjamin. Leah is going to do film, music and entertainment reviews, along with a shoutout each edition for a random reader."

"We took this to different stores around Carsonville and got them to give us coupons to include in the newspaper." Drew narrates, "So for every person who donates twenty dollars to the Chronicle, they get coupons to the Stereo Shack, the cinema, Sophie's Mom's bakery, GameStop, Lucy's and other shops in the mall. That should boost your revenue enough to cover the debt. So, what do you think?"

Kyler surveys the print room with a reverent gaze. He kind of gave up after seeing it destroyed, and never came back to see the cleanup. Of the damaged computers, about half were salvaged, repaired and cleaned. The five of us repainted the walls to cover the ink stains and graffiti.

Priceless copies of the newspapers were destroyed, and we tried to replace the archives with copies we found around town, but the file cabinets that held Kyler's collection are still empty and hollow.

"The next copy is due out in three days and I haven't done anything! Let's get to work, people!"

The most familiar with how a newspaper works, Delaney carelessly sinks into a chair, and slings her legs up on the counter which holds the refurbished computers. The school intranet login fades away as she pulls up a fresh document page, drags the keyboard onto her thighs and starts typing lazily.

She's unaware of the rest of us as she works, and words are quickly filling up her screen. Benjamin and Drew are leaning against the workbench, looking confused. Empty cardboard boxes are stacked on it, ready for Wyn to fill them up with photos again. Leah, by my side, scratches her ear and nods her head towards the room where Kyler is computing. Ask him, she mouths.

"Uh... Kyler?" I call out.

"Yeah?"

"What are we supposed to be doing?"

"Oh! Right. Um... Benjamin, I'll give you the access codes to the computers and get you started on the riddles, crosswords and all that stuff. We have a few programmes that already have the template for Sudoku, crosswords and word finds. They're in the folder called 'newspaper' — everything's in there, with instructions."

"Drew, over the weekend, can you visit some of the entertainment venues and see if they can provide a synopsis of what they have going on and why students of Carsonville should go there? Just do one venue per edition. Take a kid from the Photography Club with you to get some shots."

"Leah, you'll be doing music and entertainment reviews. You know, books that are popular, music, movies, games, all that. Use your artistic license."

"Sophie, you'll be editing the coupons, stories and puzzles into the templates. Piecing the whole thing together. So you probably can relax this afternoon. Delaney, since you're writing two columns, I'd get that finished. You've got one already done, right?"

"Aye, aye, captain," she mock-salutes.

"We all got that?"

"Yes!"

I hear the sounds of typing, printers and the occasional squeak of Delaney swinging on her swivel chair — it's like a happier variant of déjà vu, to see this room living again. The hallways are still lit, but empty as I rush to the photography room. Maybe no-one's here, seeing as the door is closed. I knock anyway.

Someone is muttering and rustling inside before the door opens. Wyn stands before me, her choppy, layered hair in an extremely loose bun, most of it falling around her neck and shoulders.

"Sophie, how can I help you?" she asks, smiling at my familiar face. I wonder if the Monarchy has given her any trouble like the newspaper, if she had gone through the same thing Kyler did.

"The Monarchy got Fisher to cancel the newspaper, but we were able to save it. Now, we have three thousand dollar debt to pay off and we need your help with some of the articles."

Wyn's eyebrows crease ever so slightly, but she must understand our desperate situation, because she disappears back into the room, emerging again with a coat and her bag. Slamming the door behind her and locking it swiftly, she marches with me back to the press room.

"Ky!" she yells upon entry to the press room. Delaney and Leah, who are the only ones in the foyer, look up at her as she marches into the computer room. We follow after her, confused. Kyler is sitting around a computer, he and Benjamin chattering quietly about something. He looks up at the sudden intrusion. "Why didn't you tell me about the newspaper?"

"I— it just slipped my mind, I guess... I didn't really feel like opening up to anyone."

She sighs heavily, shaking her head and making even more of her hair fall out of her messy bun. "Are you okay?" she asks. Wyn's been involved with the newspaper almost as long as Kyler has. She's stuck with Kyler through the debt and everything else.

"I am now," he says awfully quietly. Sensing that the five of us are intruding on something personal, Drew and Benjamin turn back to their individual screens and I walk with the girls out into the larger space where the three large print machines are.

A few moments later, Wyn comes out. There is no more hope for her bun. Huffing, she pulls out the hair tie and three bobby pins muttering, "I swear I had more than three in there."

I am silent as she ties her hair into a ponytail, twists it around her head and tries her best to pin it in place. Delaney is typing quickly on her computer, while Leah is doing more research on the films that are currently showing at the Carsonville cinema and ranking them.

Looking more presentable, Wyn turns to me. "What are we doing to help?"