“No,” said Thomas, rapping his knuckles on the pool table that formed the centerpiece of our new secret headquarters. “Absolutely not.”
“She would be awesome,” I said. “Think of it: Two people on the inside.”
Elijah grumbled as he strode around Thomas’s basement. “That’s not how this works. You have one person on the inside. Once the conspiracy gets too big, you lose all hope of secrecy.”
“She smells really nice.”
“Don’t you think I know that?! That doesn’t matter.”
“I’m all for it. Sisterhood, bitches,” said Lakshmi, lounging in a black leather recliner pointed at the enormous flat-screen television that dominated one wall. “Besides, it gives us more options. They’ll never suspect her since she’s been on the team so long.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I trust her. Plus, she’s outside waiting in her car.”
“What?” gurgled Elijah.
It was nearly seven o’clock, and we had gathered in the basement of Thomas’s perfectly manicured McMansion, which was a masculine paradise of epic proportions. Not only was there was a television that could be seen from outer space and a luscious pool table, but the walls were festooned with framed baseball jerseys. Baseball bats darkened with squiggly signatures were encased in crystalline cubes like we were in the goddamn Batcave. There was a couch the size of Mount Rushmore, matching La-Z-Boys, and a bar that had its own glowing Budweiser sign. It was like bro culture had been distilled and condensed into one subterranean realm, and we had been condemned to its depths.
“My dad played professional baseball for five years,” Thomas had said, by way of explanation. “He was super excited to have a gay playwright for a son.”
“I’m sorry for his loss,” I joked.
“It’s all good. There was an adjustment period,” he added. “I think he was more concerned about my lack of athletic ability than my orientation, to be honest. He’s cool with me being gay, he’s not cool with me being unable to hit a curve ball.”
Lakshmi twirled around. “This is like my Barbie dream house.”
Blaize carefully made her way to the basement, eyes open in awe.
“This place is cool,” she said. “It’s like a sports bunker.”
Thomas sighed and unrolled the paper tablecloth we’d taken from the Macaroni Grill. “This is basically our founding document. Like the Constitution.” He gestured to the crayoned images of the Sinister Seven, where Blaize was drawn like a ginormous smiling blond devil. “Don’t worry about that part,” he said, taking a red crayon and X-ing out her face. “Not ’cause you’re dead,” he said, “because you’re no longer part of the Sinister Seven.”
I caught Elijah’s eyes. There was a kind of delicacy about him now, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in my presence. I kept imagining what had happened to him, and the vulnerability he’d shown to tell me about it. He smiled a bit and then looked down at the table.
Blaize looked over the plan. “You guys have put a lot of work into this conspiracy.”
“Thanks,” said Thomas.
“Before we go any further,” said Elijah, “you need to swear to secrecy. What you have witnessed here tonight must never be spoken of, even on pain of torture or death.”
“Torture, Elijah?” I said.
“It could happen.”
“I’d do it,” said Lakshmi. “I’d torture somebody.”
“We’re not looking for torture volunteers,” said Elijah. “We’re saying that—”
“I get it,” said Lakshmi. “It was a joke.”
Blaize set her jaw. “Sparks is a cancer on this school.”
“And the other people on the team?” said Elijah. “Your friends?”
“They’re not my friends.”
“They sure seemed like your friends.”
“I was nice to them, but I don’t think they ever really liked me.”
“You sure backed them up when I got kicked off the team.”
I was about to intervene when Thomas grabbed my hand. “Let them do this,” he said quietly.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said.
“Are you?”
“Yes. What happened to you was totally unfair. And I didn’t help, and I’m sorry about that. And he’s done it to me, and he’s gonna do it to more people after me.”
Elijah considered it for a moment. “All right.”
Lakshmi exhaled. “That was fucking intense. I thought you guys were gonna get out dueling swords or something.”
“I could do that,” said Elijah.
Lakshmi looked at Blaize’s six-foot frame. “She would destroy you. By the way, you should totally come out for the basketball team.”
Thomas looked over the tablecloth and changed it to sinister six. “All right, step one has essentially been completed. Sydney has been accepted into the clique,” said Thomas. “Now we have to decide on the next step.”
“How about we just videotape Sparks being a constant asshole?” I said.
“Is he any more of an asshole than a sports coach?” asked Lakshmi.
“Um… yes?” I said. “He is literally the devil incarnate.”
Elijah shook his head. “Won’t work. He’s got too much power.”
“We could mail a video to the school board or something.”
“I’m telling you, he’s driving enrollment at the school. He has friends in the legislature. The principal can’t move against him while he’s winning. He only goes down if the team goes down. Besides, it’s not just about him, it’s about the cult of personality he created.”
“Then we need something public,” said Lakshmi. “And huge. A failure.”
“What if we get everybody disqualified?” I asked. “Like, okay, let’s get everybody drunk or high or whatever and then we call the cops, the cops bust everybody—”
“And their rich parents get them out of trouble,” interjected Thomas. “That’s how it works. They know the judges, they know the cops. Nobody wants to have the pride of the town take the fall. Not for something simple like a party. We need to think bigger. Blaize, what would you do if you wanted everybody to lose?”
She stood there, silent for a moment.
“Even though people are in different events, everybody’s really competitive with each other. Hanson wants to be the only champion. He doesn’t want to share the spotlight with anybody. That kind of goes for everybody: They don’t like each other. Nobody really roots for anyone to succeed. It’s all like a gladiatorial arena.”
“That’s the way Sparks wants it,” said Elijah. “He thinks competition makes people stronger. He switches his favorites randomly, just to keep people on their toes. You never know what he’s going to say or who he’s going to tear into.”
“Right,” I said, “but how do we exploit that?”
“We make them hate each other,” said Lakshmi. “Instead of secretly wanting the other people to fail, we make them actively try to make everyone else fail.”
“Poison the well,” added Thomas. “Sexual frustration, jealousy, petty disputes, personality clashes.”
“Let’s turn this up to eleven,” said Elijah in a British accent. He looked around. “Mine go to eleven. Everyone else’s dials go to ten but mine go to eleven—has no one seen Spinal Tap?”
“Can we just do this without becoming British?” Thomas sighed.
“You’ve seen it,” he said, turning to me. “You know what I’m talking about. They—”
Lakshmi cut him off. “I’ve got homework to do, so can we finish our evil plan, please?”
“So we’re resolved,” said Thomas, serious as hell. “We make them hate each other first. Then we move on Sparks. And what’s the best way to make them hate each other?”
“Let’s throw a party,” I said.