By the end of the day Friday, I was nervous and excited. I could finally figure out how the Social Action Club doubled as a revenge service.

                I reached the room and the twins looked over at me, both with knowing eyes. I'd assumed the whole club was in on it, probably even Bishopp. But it was strange to see Talon's playful nature put aside in favor of suspicion.

                "Ah, there's our outcast," Farren said, seated next to the twins. Connor sat on Farren's desk, scrolling through his phone, his bag securely in his lap.

                "I'm not sure I'd consider myself much of an outcast given what I know," I said.

                "Oh, was that a threat?" Talon asked, eyes gleaming.

                "Just a statement." I sat down and forced a friendly smile. I had to keep that ugly side of me locked away. I wouldn't go back to who I used to be. "I've got no reason to threaten you guys. You haven't done anything to me."

                "I wouldn't recommend getting ballsy. Connor is pretty good at digging up dirt," Farren said.

                "I already know your school records," Connor said dismissively.

                "You looked into me as soon as I joined the club, didn't you?" I said.

                "Just enough to make sure you weren't dangerous to us," Connor said. "Your files are boring."

                "I could've told you that if you'd just asked me," I pointed out.

                "Oh, yea, totally. 'Hey, Nolan, can you tell us everything about yourself so we know you're not dangerous?'" Talon said.

                "Everyone shut up," Tyson said, entering the room. "You either trust me or you get out of my club. Here are your routes. Outcast, you're with me."

                "Lucky me," I said.

                "Twins, you'll get your supply of candy bars from Farren's car. Let's go already," Tyson said. "And stay in your uniforms. If you look more official, they're more likely to buy from you."

                "Easy for you to say. You're not forced to wear a skirt all day," Nyssa said, getting up and fixing her skirt. "I can't wait to change back into sweatpants when I get home."

                "Trust me, the slacks aren't much better. At least you can stretch your legs. God, these pants are so stiff," Talon said, shaking his pant leg a little.

                "Yes, yes, uniforms suck. Complain about it another time. Let's go," Tyson said, heading for the door.

                The others hurried to follow him. Tyson passed them their routes as we left the school and headed for the parking lot. Most students had cleared out, but a few were still lingering in the parking lot talking. They didn't pay us any mind as we headed to two cars parked next to each other.

                Farren unlocked one and opened the trunk. The twins began to gather their supplies, Farren helping them. Tyson lightly hit my shoulder and gestured to the other car.

                "They can handle that themselves. Let's get started," he said, unlocking his car. "I'll drop you back off after to pick up your car."

                I got in his passenger seat and he started the car, leaving the parking lot. He plugged his phone into the speakers but kept the volume low.

                "I'm going to ask you questions," I warned.

                "I figured. I'm not promising answers," he said.

                "You use the club as a cover-up, right? And you have it set up to get requests in a place with no security cameras. But what about the classroom you're in? It has a security camera," I said.

                Tyson shook his head. "Connor looked into it. Seven classrooms in the school have security cameras that don't work, including the room our meetings are in. It's never been an issue, so the school's never bothered fixing the issues."

                What about girls who want to use this service of yours?" I said.

                "Similar setup in the girl's locker room," Tyson said.

                "How does selling candy bars have anything to do with this?" I said.

                Tyson reached out and turned his music up. "You're asking too many questions. I'm going to listen to something I actually want to hear."

                I reluctantly shut up and just stared out of the window as the town blurred by. I had so many questions, but Tyson clearly had no interest in answering any of them. I guess I'd just have to pay careful attention and figure things out for myself.

                Tyson eventually parked the car on the side of the road and we got out together. He handed me a fairly large box full of candy bars and led me down the sidewalk.

                "Smile, pretend you give a damn about the cause, and make it sound good," he said as we walked up to a door. "Unfortunately, people are here will recognize me. Just play along and don't fuck up our sales."

                He knocked on the door and waited. A woman pulled it open and smiled widely.

                "Tyson!" she said. "You know, my daughter told me the community center announced you kids were doing a fundraiser. How are your parents?"

                Tyson had a dazzling smile on his face. "My parents are great, Mrs. Gilligan. They'll be at the community center's play when it opens."

                "Well, I'd imagine your father wouldn't miss it for the world." Mrs. Gilligan pulled out her wallet, taking some money out. "My daughter is so excited about the fundraiser. Can I see what you have?"

                Tyson opened his box and let Mrs. Gilligan pick out what she wanted. She handed him the money with a smile.

                "Make sure you tell your parents I said hello," she said.

                "They'll be happy to hear it," Tyson said. "Have a good evening, Mrs. Gilligan."

                We started walking towards the next house. I raised an eyebrow, glancing at Tyson.

                "Connections?" I said.

                "I'm well known around here. Besides, my dad teaches classes at the community center and helps with their plays," he said. He held out his hand to stop me. "This next house, this is where I want you to pay attention."

                The neighborhood was quiet, houses fairly spaced out. Tyson led us up the driveway and off to a little path that took us to the front door. He rang the doorbell and we waited until a man answered.

                Tyson had the dazzling smile back on his face. That smile completely transformed him. Matched with his neat Braxton uniform, he looked like a wealthy CEO ready to charm you out of every dollar you owned.

                "Hello, sir. I'm Tyson Strazio, president of the Social Action Club. We're selling candy bars as a fundraiser to support the community center. All profits will go towards funding their programs," he said, holding up the box of candy bars.

                "The community center, huh? I think I saw a flyer about that. Sure, I'll take a few," he said.

                "Thank you, sir. We really appreciate it," Tyson said, opening the box and letting the man pick what he wanted. Tyson took his money, thanked him again, and led me away from the door. Once we were a safe distance away, he looked at me with his normal impatient expression. "What did you notice?"

                "Uh...nothing, really," I said.

                "Wrong. No noisy pets. One lock on the door. The downstairs windows were shut, but if they could be opened, they didn't have screens on them. No automatic lights. No fence around the yard. There was a lot to notice," he said.

                My eyes widened. "You're using this fundraiser as an excuse to scope out target's houses."

                "Targets and potential targets," he said. "That was the home of Marie Caperton. Likes to ruin other students' homework and essays so they can't turn them in to beat her grades. I doubt it'll be long before there's a request for her."

                "Everything about the Social Action Club is designed to give you what you need while making you look innocent," I said, a little impressed. "That's how you haven't been caught yet."

                "Who's going to suspect the club that does the most for the community? Especially when officer Corr's son is a member of that club. We're well known around town, well respected, and trusted. No one blinks an eye at us when the revenge service comes up," Tyson said.

                "I figured it out," I said.

                "I wanted you to figure it out. I told you about the riddle, I told you we'd be striking again soon, and I confirmed your suspicions. If I didn't want you to find out, you wouldn't have," he said. "Trust me, plenty have tried. We change the location of the locker fairly often and we're cautious about how we go about this. We're respectable kids from respectable families. You? You're the outsider here. The uncertainty I plan on keeping under control."

                "I'm not turning you in," I said.

                "I can't trust that just yet. Soon, you'll have a few chances to prove yourself. But right now? I have no idea how you'll be useful to us or how trustworthy you are," he said.

                "Yet you let me join," I said.

                "I did," he agreed. "But only because I'm confident I can handle this until we figure out your usefulness to us. You could go running to the next cop you see about how it's us behind these schemes, but who would believe you? You're a nobody here."

                I bit my lip, knowing that was true. Tyson was right; even if I did reveal that it was the Social Action Club behind the revenge service, who would believe me? They'd carefully built up a trustworthy reputation.

                "Now, pay attention," he said as we walked up to the next house. "Consider this your basic training."

                He rang the doorbell, that smile on his face by the time a woman answered the door. He pitched the candy bars to her, thanked her when she bought a few, and led me away when the door was shut.

                "Give me a report," I said.

                "I heard a dog bark when you rang the doorbell," I said. "Uh, the windows had screens on them. There was a tree on the side of the house, with thicker branches near a window."

                "Still pitiful, but the tree was a good observation, at least. You need to see every possible way in and out of a house, every possible set back and advantage. Pets are the biggest problem," he said.

                "How do you take care of a noisy pet?" I asked.

                "Very carefully and with Connor's disapproval," Tyson said. "You're selling to the next few houses."

                And so it went. We went door to door, taking turns pitching the sales and Tyson questioning me on what I noticed. The longer this went on, the better I got at figuring out what Tyson was looking for.

                There were little things and big things I started to notice. Pets, locks, windows, lights, even the type of flooring I could see from the door and windows. Tyson pointed out houses that were a little older and probably made more noise, and houses that would be easy to scale up and into. I paid attention to houses with fences, with noticeable security systems, with trees and bushes and other cover nearby. Tyson pointed out how close houses were to their neighbors and if their neighbors would be in a position to see anyone sneaking in from the side or back.

                By the time we'd finished our route, it was getting late and I was starving. We got back in Tyson's car and he pulled out his vibrating cellphone.

                "What?" he said. He listened as the person on the other end spoke. "Fine, okay. We'll meet you there. We just finished. We had the longer route. Bye." He hung up and started the car. "We're going to Farren's for dinner. His dad invited us."

                "Okay," I said.

                "You don't need to go home?" he said, starting to drive.

                I shook my head. "My Uncle is probably still at work."

                He turned his music up to keep me from talking. Tyson wasn't the best company, as I was quickly learning. His mind seemed to be focused on a million things at once, and he tended to jump from topic to topic, growing annoyed if I lingered on one thing for too long.

                The drive was only a few minutes, and then we were parking in a driveway. I followed Tyson up to the house, surprised as he let himself in without knocking.

                Officer Corr looked over from the stove he was cooking at as he entered. "Hey, Tyson. Who's this?"

                "This is Nolan. The school forced him into our club," Tyson said, kicking his shoes off. "Basement?"

                "Yep. Dinner is almost ready," he said.

                Tyson led me down to a basement, where two couches and several comfy chairs were set up. The others were there, dressed in casual clothes.

                "You took so long everyone even had time to run home and change," Farren said. He had a controller in his hand, battling Connor on a video game. The twins watched the screen with little interest.

                "You're going to lose," Connor said. "I don't know why you played against me."

                "Because I'm a hopeful man," Farren said as his character's heath rapidly declined on screen. "Not my best decision, admittedly."

                His health finally hit zero and Farren turned the game off. "We sold a good chunk of ours. Well, I sold a good chunk of it. Connor just stood there doing nothing."

                I noticed that Connor's little dog was curled in his lap. Connor stroked the dog's fur. "I told you I hate these door-to-door sales."

                "We did a pretty good job," Talon said.

                "People either find him obnoxious or charming," Nyssa said.

                "We did fine. I trained Nolan a bit in the art of being a Social Action Club member," Tyson said.

                "Train him fast. We have work to do," Talon said.

                "We'll discuss everything during the Monday meeting," Tyson said. "Our meetings can finally go back to normal."

                "Dinner!" Corr called from upstairs.

                "Let's go," Farren said, getting up.

                Connor got up, fixing the hood of his sweatshirt before settling his dog into it. Jonesy's back legs rested in the hood while he draped his front legs over Connor's shoulder, resting his head on it and licking Connor's shirt a little.

                "Mickey is going to go crazy when he sees you have Jonesy here," Farren warned as we headed for the basement stairs.

                "Jonesy is safe when he's with me," Connor said.

                We went upstairs and into the kitchen, where extra chairs had been set up. Corr was setting food down for us.

                "Sit wherever you want, kids. My wife and I are going to eat in the living room," he said.

                There was a scratching at the back door and Corr pulled it open. A fairly big dog came running in, panting and hurrying to sniff all of us.

                "Take Mickey with you so he doesn't eat Connor's rat," Farren said, pushing the dog towards his dad.

                "Mickey is harmless," Corr said, but herded the dog out of the room. "If you need anything, Farren will be a good host and get it for you."

                "I'll be the best host they've ever had," Farren said. "Go eat with mom. And if you want dessert, drop me a few bucks and you can have candy bars."

                "How kind of you," Corr said before disappearing out of the room.

                "Shouldn't he be busy with the investigation?" Talon asked.

                Farren shrugged, passing the food around to us. "Not much to investigate. Whoever is behind it covered their tracks well."

                Tyson grinned a little. "Hope the cops catch them soon."

                "Law breaking scum," Farren said, returning the grin.

                "Do we have a meeting on Monday?" Nyssa asked.

                "Yes, we do. I think we have quite a bit to talk about," Tyson said. "Right, outcast?"

                "Nolan," I said.

                "You haven't earned the right to have a first name yet, outcast. Just smile and agree with me," Tyson said.

                "I'll earn that respect," I said.

                He grinned, just a bit. "Good, you recognize why I call you the outcast. I'm a hard person to please. Good luck with that."

                "It's true. He used to pretend to screw us up when we first met," Talon said.

                "Shut up, Nyssa," Tyson said.

                "Oh no, we are not going through this again. Having a fraternal twin means we never went through the pain of being mixed up throughout our childhood," Talon said, narrowing his eyes at Tyson. "You hurt my soul, Ty."

                "Keep talking and I'll hurt more than that," Tyson said. "Outcast, you'll finally get your chance to prove yourself. But if you screw up, I'll personally make sure you're out of the club. This is delicate business, and I'm giving you one chance here."

                I felt determination rise in my eyes, and Tyson's grin grew at my expression. He was acting like I couldn't impress him, but he wouldn't be giving me a chance if he really believed that. I was going to show him that I could do this and earn his respect.