Valerie Nico– captain of the disciplinary committee and one of the seven heads of the school –leafed through the heap of dirty pictures piled on the table. A handful of her committee members accompanied her in their dedicated conference room, along with Felicia Belafonte leaning against the far wall with her arms crossed and two of her fencers nearby. The shades were drawn and the room was illuminated by the projector depicting a map of the campus on the wall with dozens of red dots and x’s marked across it.

“Christ on a cracker,” Valerie muttered in regard to the sheer volume. “You got all these from one guy?”

“Most of them,” a committee member resting on a reversed chair replied. “We snagged a few hits from some careless buyers this morning. It looks like the underground photography club was unloading their leftover merchandise in bulk and were getting sloppy about it.”

“But that’s not the most interesting part,” said another member whose blue armband had an additional ring on it, one less than Valerie herself. “You know how they sometimes print their junk on flash paper?”

“Of course. It’s why we have difficulty getting any solid dirt on them. One match can destroy an entire stash without leaving any evidence.”

“Watch this.” The committee member picked up one of the pictures, then wetted the tip of his opposite finger on his tongue and pinched the corner. The whole picture disappeared in less than a second with nary a puff of smoke. “They’ve got a mix that reacts with water now. One loogie can wipe their entire inventory out of existence in an instant.”

Valerie stroked her chin intently and sat down as she stared through the pile of combustible papers. One of her members sat down next to her. “How deep do you think this goes? Could the chemistry club be involved?”

“Not necessarily,” she thoughtfully replied. “But they’re definitely getting help from someone with the resources and know-how.”

“Should we start tracking how school chemicals are used?”

“Without any idea what to look for? We’ve got our hands full as is. I’ll put some people on that lead, but it shouldn’t matter if we can find a pattern in their movements.” Valerie turned her attention to the projection on the wall. The committee member at the computer marked the most recent busts on the map.

“Do we need to be here for this?” Felicia impatiently asked.

Valerie rolled her eyes over Felicia’s disinterest, but checking the time changed her mind. “It’s getting late. You all can go home for the day.”

“What about you, captain?” the committee member asked.

“I’m going to puzzle over this some more. Don’t worry about me.”

Felicia didn’t require additional encouragement and was out the door before Valerie finished her sentence, followed closely by her fencers. The other committee members hesitated at first, but they knew better than to second guess their captain. Plus, they were also students with homework and projects in addition to their committee duties.

After the last straggler filed out, someone slipped into the room before the door shut. He meandered over the pile of pictures on the table behind Valerie’s back and picked up the nearest.

“Their shot composition improves every year,” he suavely critiqued. “You’d think these girls were posing for the camera.”

Valerie exhaled a short sigh, recognizing the voice of Tyler Guinness, president of the chess club and one of her fellow heads. “What do you want?” she asked blankly without bringing her attention from the screen.

He tossed the picture onto the pile. “A little bird told me the photography club has been giving you the runaround.” He leaned against the wall adjacent to the projection. “I had five minutes to spare, so I thought I’d offer my services.”

“Thanks, but this isn’t a puzzle that can be solved in one night.”

“My dear Valerie, strategy is my forte,” he confidently replied, positioning himself at the center of the projection. “Identifying patterns, anticipating actions, retaliating; I’m better equipped for this little conundrum than anyone at this school, let alone the disciplinary committee. Five minutes is more than enough time for someone with my talents, so I thought I’d barter with you a little in exchange for them.”

Valerie sighed and stopped looking over the map to give Tyler her full attention. “What do you want?”

Tyler smirked satisfactorily. “Dinner and a movie.” Valerie chortled and Tyler asked why.

“I thought you were asexual,” she remarked.

“A common mistake. Not even close to true. I’m simply selective.”

“Dating is prohibited,” she bluntly answered.

“I didn’t say a ‘date.’ I said, ‘dinner and a movie.’”

“Dinner and a movie is a date, Tyler.”

“It’s only a date if you call it one,” he cleverly argued. “Why can’t two peers share an evening together? Unless it’s something about me personally.”

“Don’t take it the wrong way. As captain of the disciplinary committee I must set an example for the rest of the school. That means following rules to the letter.”

“You won’t be able to deflect me with protocol,” he said dismissively. “Among your many admirable traits is the acknowledgement of spirit of the law before the letter of the law. The prohibition on dating was not instituted to stifle romance so much as public displays of affection.”

Valerie grinned. “I can’t refute that.” She turned the projector toward the adjacent wall so she could give it her full attention without having to look at Tyler. “But haven’t you heard the rumors?” she smugly mocked. “I’m a lesbian. Sorry.”

Tyler smirked and began pacing the room. “I’ve heard the rumors. But madame president doesn’t keep me around for my knowledge. She keeps me around because I know better.”

“That your professional opinion?”

“I prefer, ‘discerned knowledge,’” he proudly asserted.

“What makes you so confident?”

“Well, I could walk you through the logic behind my reasoning and the steps taken to reach my conclusion, but I’m afraid I might bore you and possibly paint myself as a bit of a homophobe.”

Valerie genuinely laughed out loud. “Entertain me, please.”

“Are you sure?” he said, feigning reluctance. “I might ramble.”

“You clearly have nothing better to do. Regale me with your story.”

“If you insist.” Tyler cleared his throat. “In public you portray a fiercely diligent yet tomboyish persona who spends all her time in service to their martial arts teams and responsibilities in the disciplinary committee, one such responsibility being strict and professional refusal of all romantic advancements made upon you. Given the number of male students you’ve turned down over the years, this likely sparked the rumor that you are entirely disinterested in men. On the offset, I can say such a rumor would be a convenient ruse to dissuade boys from approaching you, more than enough reason not to outright refute it, or even perpetuate it. However, this implies motive, not fact, so I must examine from a different angle. Your lifestyle keeps you healthy, your pursuits keep you muscular and fit, some might even say ‘masculine;’ however, your physique poorly masks a hyper-feminine figure which is why the public image of you is a tomboy rather than a butch. Combined with your soft features, lovely demeanor, and unabrasive disposition, I can safely refute hormonal or genetic inclination toward homosexuality. Therefore, any leanings therein would be ethological rather than pathological. Assuming they exist. So, the question remains… Do they?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.,” Valerie replied, unimpressed.

“But why use words when behaviors say so much more? People can say you are a lesbian, and you can shrug your shoulders all you want, but you aren’t conscious of the way you react when someone enters the room, when a voice perks up your ears, or where the eye wanders when unattended. Felicia has relegated herself to weather the stares her erotic body cannot help but draw with a force as inescapable as gravity. Stares which you do not contribute to. Of all the times the three of us have been in the same room, I don’t believe your gaze has ever wandered below her neck, except when her hand is on her sword. However, this is easily dismissed as an effect of your rivalry and mutual animosity. Or her simply not appealing to your tastes, or your personal discipline at work. However, that notion goes out the door when considering your behavior in proximity to Tyrone. Your voice lilts slightly when speaking to him, your rigid demeanor lulls near imperceptibly in his presence, yet on one occasion you became unreasonably flustered over an otherwise innocuous mistake when under his scrutiny.”

Valerie considered for a moment. She hadn’t thought much of Tyrone, aside from the respect she afforded all of her peers. He was just another one of the heads, same as Tyler. But looking back, Valerie realized she does act differently around him. Little things not worthy of attention on their own, but overwhelmingly obvious in hindsight. It certainly wasn’t intentional and as far as she could tell not indicative of her attitude toward him, but it was unnerving Tyler realized something so subtle about her before she with all her mental and physical discipline realized it herself. “Have you been studying me?” she demanded.

“I study everyone,” Tyler bluntly stated. “I recommend you do the same. Don’t worry. I think you’re too mature to have a crush. You certainly admire him well enough as person to show concern over his opinion of you. You’re likely subconsciously reacting to Tyrone’s own hyper masculinity. Even the esteemed and infallible student council president isn’t totally immune. Though I’ve only caught one fleeting glance. All things considered, I couldn’t hazard a guess toward your personal taste in a partner or what you do in the privacy of your room; but, I believe defining you as ‘gay’ is a bit of a misnomer. I can’t concretely assert that you are straight,” he admitted with a shrug of his hands, “but if I had to make an educated estimation, I would say you are at most… bi, but disinterested.”

Valerie sighed dryly and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Let’s pretend you’re on to something. What makes you think I’d go for a guy like you when I’m around Tyrone just as often?”

“Because he and I are equal and opposites,” Tyler abruptly and deliberately stressed. “He may be the single most gifted athlete in Andronicus history, but for every stroke of athletic genius bestowed upon him, I am equally blessed with literal genius.”

“Humble too, it seems,” she sarcastically quipped. “Since I’m an athlete, I bet you’re thinking ‘opposites attract?’”

Tyler scoffed at the idea and removed his red bishop from his pocket so his hands had something to do. “Opposites? Hardly. You’re athletic, but you’re far from stupid; just as I’m nowhere near an approximation of an athlete, but I’m not helpless. I want to know more about you. Unravel the mystery that is Valerie Nico.”

“What could you possibly have to learn about me that you don’t already know?”

“If I knew the answer to that question, I wouldn’t be here.”

Valerie turned the idea over in her head. She didn’t particularly need his help, but he was one of the heads of Andronicus. He wasn’t just blowing hot air. When she reached her conclusion, she faced Tyler, who stood in anticipation, and held up a finger, making herself very clear. “If and only if you can solve this puzzle, we will have lunch together, in the commons area. With a chaperone. Then we will see a performance by the drama club, shake hands, and be done with it.”

Tyler thoughtfully scratched his chin. “There’s something a little more intimate about a live performance… but I’m going to insist. Dinner. Alone. At a nice restaurant. Our drama department is fine, but I will walk you to your dorm after. We can shake hands if you want, but I’m find with a verbal farewell.”

Valerie tapped her fingers on her crossed arms. “Walking me home is asking too much. If someone sees–”

“It will be no less usual than if someone walked in on us right now,” he interrupted, subtly referring toward the dirty pictures splayed out on the table.

Valerie grimaced. He was right. It was difficult to tell how much of this interraction was practiced and how much was he improvised. With his disposition, he wouldn’t be one of the heads if he wasn’t intelligent and savvy enough to come up with all this on the spot, but he also wasn’t careless enough walk into anything without a plan. He was dancing a fine line between adherence to the rules and flagrant indulgence, but his help would be invaluable; and if anyone could get away with dancing through loopholes, it was Tyler.

“Fine,” Valerie relented. “Dinner and a show. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Ah, but how is anyone supposed to make their way in this world without hope?” Tyler theatrically asked as he positioned himself next to the projection.

“That’s assuming you can solve this riddle,” she reminded him.

“Have some faith.” Tyler perched his hand over his mouth and didn’t stare at the board so much as through it. He took it all in simultaneously, symbols, timestamps. In his mind, he saw patterns of movement, reactions, connected them to events going on at the same time, saw how they influenced later occurrences. He painted a virtual picture of events unfolding in real time and internalized them. As he went, his head gradually tilted slightly to the side, like the act of thinking added weight to the right half of his brain. Less than a minute after he started, he righted himself and drew his hand away, revealing a scowl.

“Dammit,” he muttered.

“What’s the matter?” Valerie intently asked. “Too much for you?”

“I figured it out,” he admitted as if disappointed at the outcome. “But it might spoil our evening together.”

“Explain.”

“Someone’s organizing the photography club. They have a strategist moving them around, making themselves harder to pin down.”

“You know this person?”

“Worse. He was in the chess club. He joined as a sophomore and made a name for himself with a unique subterfuge that was difficult to counter even if you knew what he was doing. But he wasn’t capable of much else. He couldn’t help himself, so he never became competition material and left the club later that same year. I see a bit of his favorite strategy in the way these busts unfold.” He uncapped a dry erase marker and circled some points on the map. “You’ll find dealers here, here, and here, but you would have found them anyways. The real scores will be in this building, that building, and that one over there. If I had to guess, second floor on the north side, third floor on the southwest side, and the boiler room. Based on the timestamps, they mix it up every three days, so you probably have until the day after tomorrow before they move again.”

Valerie analyzed the new information methodically and found it all so arbitrary. “You see all that?”

“I see more than what language has the capacity to convey. It is my curse.”

“If that’s a curse, I’d hate to know what you call a blessing,” Valerie remarked as she jotted down the locations Tyler directed. When she was done, she trotted toward the door.

“You’ll hold up our agreement?” Tyler called.

“Get me the name of that ex-chess club member, then we’ll talk.”

Tyler smirked. “I hope you have something nice to wear.”