I couldn't stop thinking about the riddle.

                Tyson and Farren had talked about hiring the service and the right price, so twenty probably meant $20 was the cost of the service. But there had to be more to it than that. Somehow, out of those five words, kids knew the price of the service and how to contact them.

                It was Monday, and one of my teachers was currently going on and on with a lecture. My focus was gone though, caught on this riddle.

                It had to be difficult enough to figure out that bullies wouldn't be able to crack it, but simple enough that victims could. And in a private school with such high education standards, these were some pretty intelligent bullies.

                There were plenty of spots around school with the color blue, so that didn't help much. Some of the bathrooms had blue tiles on the floor, some of the classrooms had blue walls, and plenty of rooms around the school had blue banners or paintings. The gym had a lot of banners with bl-

                My eyes widened a little.

                The gym.

                Of course. There were no cameras in the locker rooms. And, at least in the boy's locker room, there was a blue stripe pattern that ran along the walls.

                I checked the time. I had a study hall in two periods, so I'd have a chance to check out the locker room during that.

                It was just a guess right now, but logically, it made sense. With no cameras in the locker rooms, kids could use this service without fear of having it traced back to them. The bullies in this school had plenty of targets, so it would be hard to know who had retaliated.

                I'd even seen Drew shoving a few other kids around. Maybe...

                I shook my head a little. No, no, I was trying to be a good person here. I wasn't going to hire a revenge service just because Drew liked to push me around. I was just curious, that was all.

                When my study hall finally came around, I got a pass to the locker room and went down there. I waited a few minutes to make sure no one would be in there getting dressed for class before heading in.

                Sure enough, it was empty in there. The blue stripe pattern went around all the walls, twisting its way over the lockers.

                "Feeling blue, twenty will do," I muttered to myself.

                I searched around for a blue locker, or a locker with anything blue on it. But there weren't any. There were several small, blue banners around the locker room, but I couldn't find anything that indicated the riddle or the service itself.

                Good job Nolan, waste your study hall searching around the gym. The only twenty I was spending was twenty minutes of my precious time when I could've been doing homework.

                "Wait," I whispered. Twenty will do.

                I searched the lockers until I found the 200s. I found locker 220 but there was no lock on it and nothing inside of it. I looked around the lockers, frustration starting to gnaw at me. What was I missing?

                I slumped against the lockers with a sigh. Maybe it was in the girl's locker room. Maybe students snuck in afterschool to hire this service. Or maybe I'd gotten the riddle wrong.

                The bathrooms didn't have security cameras either. But something told me that "twenty" had to have more than one meaning. Surely it was the price, but it had to be another clue, too.

                I heard the door to the locker room creak open and hurried to straighten up. I stepped away from the lockers and towards the water fountain.

                "Outcast?"

                I turned to face Tyson. There was a little blood trickling out of his nose and it looked like he'd been hit in the side of the face.

                "Are you okay?" I asked.

                "What are you doing in here?" he asked, moving past me and turning the sink on. He grabbed a paper towel and held it under the water before wiping at his face with it.

                "I had study hall so I came down to put my spare shoes in my locker," I lied. "What happened to your face?"

                "Caught me on my blindside during a kickball game," Tyson said. He wiped the blood away from his nose and tossed the paper towel in the trash. He grabbed a dry one and pat his face down with it, turning the sink off. "Minor incident." He turned to face me. "Let me ask you something, Nolan."

                "Sure," I said.

                "How stupid do you think I am?"

                "Excuse me?"

                "I don't have a stuttering problem. So, how stupid do you think I am?"

                "I...I'm sure you're a very intelligent man? You go to a high-standards private school and run a club. I'm sure your mom hangs your test grades on the fridge."

                "You were looking for it," he said.

                "For what?" I said.

                "Don't play stupid with me. Feeling blue, twenty will do. You were trying to solve the riddle," he said.

                "I might be mildly curious," I admitted.

                "Why the locker room?" he asked.

                "No cameras," I said. "And the blue pattern on the wall. I also figured the twenty was a price and had something to do with the lockers. But I haven't found anything."

                "Smart," Tyson said.

                "You know the answer, don't you?" I said.

                "I know a lot of things. Have a person in mind you want revenge on?" he said.

                "I'm just curious about this service. I don't know if I'd use it," I said, but was that a lie? I could be as kind as possible, but some part of me would always think bullies deserved revenge.

                "You have a little spark in your eye. Nice guys, they don't get that," Tyson said. He smirked a little. "I think you'll be an interesting addition here. I can't wait until we really get to know you, Nolan." He checked the time. "I've got to head back to gym. I'll see you at the meeting afterschool."

                He left the locker room. So he knew the riddle, but he didn't plan on telling me.

                "Think, think," I mumbled to myself. Feeling blue, twenty will do.

                Was I overthinking it? Not thinking enough?

                I looked around the locker room and something caught my eyes. One of the lockers had a blue lock on it. That would be far too obvious for a secret revenge service, but it did kick a little idea into gear in my mind.

                I moved around until I found locker 120. The lockers were smaller than hallway ones, meant only to hold a change of clothes, shoes, and maybe a small backpack. There were plenty of them in this section of the locker room, and bigger ones in the other section for sports players to keep their equipment.

                This could take me a while and I didn't have much time, so I got right to work. I checked the lock on locker 120, looking all over for any sign of blue color or the number 20, but there was nothing. I moved ahead to locker 320, then 420, and then 520.

                It was locker 520 where I finally figured it out.

                There was a plain lock on it, but when I checked the back of the lock, there was a small blue dot in the center. I took out my cell phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it through the little slits in the locker.

                It was hard to make out, but I could just barely see the edge of a folded up piece of paper. I tried shifting the light around, catching a glimpse of the corner of some money.

                This was it. Feeling blue, twenty will do.

                I put my phone back in my pocket, staring at the locker. I could leave a note in here and have Drew taken care of. He was the worst out of everyone who had given me trouble here. All I had to do was toss a note and some cash into this locker, and it would be taken care of.

                "This is crazy," I said, because saying it out loud meant it echoed around the room, and I desperately needed to hear those words before I went through with this.

                I turned away from the locker and hurried out of the locker room. It was a clever riddle, one that would take a while to figure out. If I hadn't thought about the cameras, I never would've figured it out.

                I returned to study hall, but I was too preoccupied to do my work. I had a million questions for Tyson, but I had a feeling he wouldn't answer any of them.

                                                                                                ***

                "Oh, good, you have clothes on," I said as I entered the room for the meeting afterschool.

                Talon let out an exasperated sigh. "You strip one time and you never live it down with the outcast."

                "You've stripped a lot more than just once," Connor said.

                "No one asked you," Talon said, crumpling up a piece of paper and throwing it at Connor. "Go back to eye-fucking your phone."

                "Why don't you go eye-fuck your sister, you peasant," Connor said.

                "Can you leave me out of this?" Nyssa said in annoyance.

                "Sorry sis, Connor has a weird fantasy about us. You know how people like their twincest," Talon said.

                "This is getting uncomfortable. I regret saying anything," I said, taking a seat.

                Talon shifted, and his foot hit Connor's bag. A little yelp sounded from it and I stared in confusion.

                "Did...did your bag just bark?" I said.

                Connor roughly kicked Talon's food away. "You did that on purpose!"

                Talon was trying not to laugh. "Actually, that was just a happy little accident."

                "Fuck off, Bob Ross," Connor snapped. He unzipped his bag all the way and pulled a Chihuahua out of it. "If you hurt Jonesy, I'm going to sue you."

                "You keep a rat-dog in your bag?" I said.

                "Jonesy is not a rat-dog!" Connor said defensively. He cradled the dog in his arms, checking it for injuries.

                "Listen, if it weighs less than three pounds, it's not a dog," Talon said. "I could shit things bigger than that rat."

                "I'd see a doctor about that," I said.

                Connor glared between us. "Someday Jonesy will grow big and strong and tear your throats out."

                "An aborted fetus could bite me harder than Jonesy could," Talon said.

                "I don't want to know why you sound so sure of that," Nyssa said.

                "Did Connor take the rat out again? Con, put it away before I punt it to another country," Tyson said, entering the room with Farren.

                "You're all heartless people. Jonesy is an innocent dog," Connor said, petting the dog. "I know, they're mean people." The dog barked and licked at Connor's hand.

                "You have three seconds to get that goblin out of my sight," Tyson warned.

                Connor kissed Jonesy's head and set him back in his bag. He left the top unzipped and nudged the bag under his chair.

                "You bring your dog to school?" I was so horribly confused.

                "He has separation anxiety," Connor said.

                "Are you sure it's the dog who has separation anxiety?" Nyssa said.

                "Enough about Connor's tiny, yipping creature. Where the hell is Bishopp?" Tyson said.

                "Bishopp is right here," Bishopp said, coming into the room. "Connor, if you brought your dog to school again, you better make damn well sure I have plausible deniability if the staff comes to ask me."

                "Jonesy is safely at home waiting for me, so let's get this meeting going already," Connor said.

                "Right, right. We tallied up the amount we made from sales, how much the businesses we invited made, and how much the raffle sale tickets made," Tyson said, pulling out papers and passing them around. The papers had all the sales and money figures on them. "We did well. Farren will update our social media tonight, and the twins will take the money and get it where it needs to go. Give me ideas for a new project."

                "Something small so we can catch up on other work," Farren said. "I was thinking a door-to-door candy bar sale to raise money for the community center."

                "I hate the door-to-door sales," Connor said.

                "We'll go in groups since we have an even number now. Bishopp can sit this one out. I'll take the outcast, the twins can go together, and Farren can handle all the talking while Connor holds the box," Tyson offered.

                "Why do you always have to stick me with Talon?" Nyssa said.

                "Nys, we are the perfect tag team. I have charm and if that fails, you can threaten them into buying candy bars," Talon said. "No better combination!"

                "I expect the lowest sales from your duo. They'll see Talon at the door and lock it," Tyson said.

                "Oh, yea, because you're such a welcome sight," Talon said.

                "Glad you acknowledge it. Farren, get in touch with the community center and let them know. Bishopp, get me the paperwork I need. Farren and I will contact the candy bar company we usually use and get things set up. Plan on next week for sales to start." Tyson opened a folder and look through some papers. "We'll set up a bigger project after this is done and we get the back work out of the way. Start thinking it terms of a big project and we'll get the details started next week."

                "I'll give you the report from the bake sale to submit to the school," Connor said.

                "Give me a rough draft. I'll touch it up to sound good. That's all for today. We'll meet again on Wednesday to plan sales routes for the candy bars. Nolan, you're staying behind so we can have a chat. Everyone else, out of my sight," Tyson said.

                "Well, that's not hard," Farren said, snickering as Tyson shot him a look. "I'm going, I'm going. I'll contact the community center."

                "I'll go pick up the paperwork and get it to you tomorrow morning, Tyson. Stop by my room before first period," Bishopp said, getting up. "Have a good evening, everyone."

                "We'll take care of the money. Come on, Talon," Nyssa said, getting up.

                Talon hopped up and followed his sister out of the room. Farren was looking down at his phone as he left the room, followed by Bishopp and Connor.

                Tyson got up and shut the door, sitting back down. "Farren said you did well. He said you're friendly, but you don't quite have the manipulation down."

                "Manipulation?" I said.

                Tyson raised an eyebrow. "What, you think Farren actually gives a shit about those people? He says what they want to hear and takes their money with a smile. He's good at reading people and reacting to what they want. He's a good speaker."

                "Sounds more like a con artist," I said.

                "I say soda, you say pop. It all means the same thing," Tyson said dismissively. "You've pulled your weight, for now at least. Doesn't mean you're permanent. I'll test you when we do the candy bar sales."

                "You wanted to talk about something else," I said. "You wouldn't have shut the door if that's all you wanted to say to me."

                "Smart boy," Tyson said, grinning. "Feeling blue, twenty will do."

                "I figured it out," I said. "You knew the riddle, but you were testing me."

                "Did you? Tell me the key to it all," he said.

                "The blue dot in the center," I said.

                His grin grew. "Very smart boy. Did you leave a note?"

                "No," I said.

                "It's not because you're a good guy. So why didn't you leave a note?" he asked.

                "Because I don't need people to stand up for me. I can stand up for myself," I said. I wet my lips nervously, trying not to think too hard on the past. "Kids say mean things, it's just what they do. They don't think about the consequences. No one ever does. But if you don't stand up for someone when you see them being beaten down, you're no better than the bullies themselves. This revenge service, it's there to support the victims, but only for a price. Compassion shouldn't come with a price tag."

                Tyson leaned back in his seat. "Quite a speech. But you don't know the schemes that have been pulled off. Maybe this service can't do what they do without the funds. Maybe whoever is behind it is just selfish. No one really knows. They're taking care of the bullies as they're asked, and the victims are grateful for that. $20 to end daily torture isn't all that bad when you're desperate."

                "I wanted to join this club to help people. I don't need a paycheck to do the right thing," I said.

                "You can't always work for free. Cops get paid. The military gets paid. Doctors get paid. You can want to help people and change the world all you want, but your compassion won't pay the bills. Sometimes you have to be selfish to do a little good in the world," Tyson said.

                Back then, back at my old school, would I have paid to get rid of the bullies? Would $20 have been enough to change the fate of so many people?

                I bit my lip, hard. "As long as no one is getting hurt."

                Tyson stood up. "Just watch. I have a hunch there will be a move soon. You'll understand eventually."

                Tyson left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I looked down at my bag, knowing my wallet was in there. $20 could've changed so much back then. Selfishness. Compassion. Could a mixture of the two really be enough to help others?

                Someone was making money and a change. Someone was out there doing what I should've done so long ago.

                Feeling blue, twenty will do. A small phrase with so much hidden within it, with so much potential.

                "Feeling blue, twenty will do," I whispered to myself. I closed my eyes, trying not to think about the past or the future or anything but those five words and the difference they could make.