"Things are changing, folks," Tyson said.

                We were sitting around him in the Social Action room. He'd just gone over the plans for the project we were doing with the police, and now was shifting gears into the revenge schemes.

                "What do you mean 'changing'?" Farren asked, narrowing his eyes at Tyson.

                "Tiffany Andel," Tyson said.

                "Oh my god," Bishopp said, putting his face in his hands. "I'm tempted to cover my ears for this."

                "Tiffany Andel? Isn't her mom a popular journalist in the town?" Nyssa said.

                "And her dad works at the prison," Farren said. "Not someone whose house you want to rob."

                "We're not robbing anything. We're breaking in and telling that bitch off," Tyson said. "Six complaints about her. That's $120 worth of hate towards this girl."

                "With good reason," Connor said. "She can get away with whatever she wants. If someone makes a move against her, her mom just slanders their whole life away in an article. She has a huge following. In elementary school, a teacher made Tiffany cry and Mrs. Andel got them fired with an article she wrote."

                "Don't you live near her?" Nyssa asked.

                Connor nodded. "When I was 11, she broke my tablet and told my mom I broke it throwing it at her. I hate that asshole. She also spit on my dog once. You better plan to light her house on fire with her trapped inside."

                "Why so many complaints about her?" Talon said. "Other than tormenting her neighbors, what has she done?"

                "She steals kids' work and turns it in as her own," Tyson said. "She also, like what happened to Connor, breaks phones and laptops when she's pissed. Laptops are her favorite because she hopes the work isn't backed up. And if anyone tries to stand up to her, she's got her lying mom and scary dad as bodyguards."

                "Tyson, if we do this, we'll have her mom after us. Her mom has a massive following, especially in this town. This is a bad idea. Especially if something goes wrong. If they discover who even one of us is, Tiffany's mom will make sure their whole family takes the fall," Bishopp said. "This isn't a target. This is a suicide mission."

                "Kids are fed up with her," I said. "We can't back down just because we're afraid. Someone has to do something."

                "Next he's going to say, 'If we don't, who will?'," Talon said, leaning back in his chair. "We're not heroes, outcast. We're paid for what we do and we're not trying to ruin our lives for some suckers who can't stand up for themselves."

                "They shouldn't have to suffer just because they're afraid to stand up for themselves. It's not right," I said.

                "$120," Tyson reminded. "We have credibility to keep, Talon."

                "And anonymity," Farren said. "I'm with Bishopp. This is a bad idea."

                "Don't be getting too ballsy," Talon said.

                "I'm going to get so ballsy that Deadpool will compare mine to Wolverine's in the next movie," Tyson said. "We're doing this. You're either in, or you're out. Let me know now so I can start planning."

                "This is reckless," Bishopp said.

                "Not if it's done right. I'm a lot of things, Bishopp, but I'm not a fool," Tyson said. "Careful planning and careful timing will save us here."

                "I'm in," I said, though Tyson surely knew that.

                "Whatever. It's your ass that's in trouble, not mine. I'll do my normal job," Connor said.

                "This is the dumbest thing you've ever done," Farren said.

                "No, the dumbest thing I've ever done is lost my eye to a BB gun," Tyson said. "I'm not even sure this current idea makes the top five list."

                "We trust you, Ty. But if you want us to follow you, you're going to have to show us a solid plan," Nyssa said.

                "Or pick a target that won't put everyone in jeopardy," Bishopp suggested.

                "We need to take down bigger targets. Outcast and I can handle this," Tyson said.

                "You haven't even tested him out on a smaller target," Farren argued.

                "I know what I'm doing, Farren. So either you trust me or you don't. And if you don't, well, there's the door. Show yourself out," Tyson said.

                "I'll keep that in mind when my dad takes you out of Tiffany's house in handcuffs," Farren said.

                "Then your dad is kinky, because I'm not giving him a reason to arrest me," Tyson said. "We have a job to do. If you're going to baby out, now's your chance. I'll get a solid plan formed and we'll make our move."

                "What about Dexter?" Talon asked. "I was kind of looking forward to giving him some hell."

                "And we will. After. We take on a big job first, and then unwind with a smaller one," Tyson said. "The Dexter job is low-stakes. I want our focus on something bigger right now. So you guys are going to help me get what I need and we'll act."

                "I still say this is a bad idea," Bishopp said.

                "I didn't ask for your input. I want to move soon, so Connor, get working on your end. Outcast, you're with me after the meeting to go over what we're going to do on this job," Tyson said.

                "Nolan?" I tried hopefully.

                "Outcast," he said. "Anyone else have anything useful to say before I tell you to get the hell out?"

                "You're a fucking idiot and this whole thing is going to crash and burn," Farren offered.

                "Sorry, I thought I said 'anything useful'," Tyson said in surprise. "I must have misspoke if you didn't get the message."

                "I'm surprised we haven't gotten a complaint about you yet," Talon said, laughing. "Or about Farren, for that matter."

                "I don't bully anyone. I just rip them off for cash," Farren said.

                "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear a single thing in this room today," Bishopp said. "Ty, at least think this over. If you don't have a perfectly solid plan, we're not doing it. I'm with Farren."

                "Someone has to be," Tyson said. "Outcast, with me."

                I grabbed my bag and followed Tyson out of the room. He led me down to the parking lot, not saying a word until we reached our cars.

                "Drive to my house. We're going to go over the plan for this job," he said.

                He got in his car and I got in mine. I followed him back to his house, both of us parking and getting out. I followed Tyson inside, where he tossed our shoes in the closet.

                "Ty?" his mom called from the other room.

                "No, it's your other son," Tyson called back.

                "If I had another son I think I'd scream," she said. "Especially if he was half as messy as you."

                We walked out to the living room, where Tyson's parents were sitting. They looked up at us as we entered.

                "He's staying for dinner," Tyson said.

                "If that's not too much trouble," I added.

                "It's not too much trouble. My son's lack of manners is the trouble," Mrs. Strazio said.

                Tyson put on his dazzling smile. "I have fantastic manners, mom."

                Mrs. Strazio stood up and shook her head, reaching out and pushing Tyson's hair out of his face. "You're a rotten little charmer and you drive me crazy. I'm going to go start dinner. Vinny, come help me."

                "Let your son help you," Mr. Strazio said, lounging on the couch with a book in his hands.

                "My son is taking after you with how lazy he is. Set a good example and come help me," Mrs. Strazio said.

                "Yea, go set a good example for me so I grow up to be a helpful husband when I'm married," Tyson said. "I'll tell my spouse 'That Vinny Strazio, he really ingrained it in me to help out with dinner and chores'."

                Mrs. Strazio snorted. "The day he helps with chores is the day pigs fly and you use manners."

                Mr. Strazio sighed and got up. "Just for that, I'm cleaning this whole house tomorrow to show you how helpful I can be." He put his arm around Mrs. Strazio. "Let's go make dinner and show Tyson how easy it is."

                "Have fun with that. We're going to my room," Tyson said.

                We went upstairs to Tyson's room and he kicked the door shut. I sat on his bed as he tossed his blazer onto the floor and pulled his tie off.

                "Do your parents do a lot together?" I asked.

                "My mom's a headstrong person and..." He shrugged. "She married the right guy, I guess. He's got patience for her. He goes along with all her ideas. They work well together." He unbuttoned his shirt and dug in his closet for a T-shirt. "I wasn't going to pry, but you're asking about my family. You've only ever really mentioned your Uncle. What about your parents?"

                "They're back in my hometown," I said, glad his back was turned. "I've just been so busy here I haven't really kept in touch with my parents as much as I should."

                "Any siblings?" he asked.

                I shook my head. "Just me."

                "Being an only child is great," Tyson said, pulling a shirt on. "My mom said she never wanted another kid. Can't blame her. I was a bit mischievous as a child."

                "What, and you aren't now?" I said.

                He grinned, turning to face me. "I'm a perfectly behaved young man."

                "And I once tap danced with Joseph Stalin in a gulag," I said.

                "I bet it was quite a show," Tyson said. He sat next to me on the bed and pulled a journal out from under his bed, flipping it open and searching the pages. "Here we are, Tiffany's house. She has two dogs and a security camera watching the front porch."

                "You're so creepy," I said, shaking my head. "Do you just keep notes on people's houses?"

                "I knew she was a target. I took notes," Tyson said, sliding his finger along the words as he read them. "There's a basement window we might be able to get in from. We'd need a different escape route, though. We'd also have to take care of the dogs pretty quickly. One of them barks a lot."

                "What's my job in this?" I asked.

                "You and I need to make it upstairs to her room. Talon and Nyssa can stay in the basement to cause a distraction if we need it. They'll be able to get out quickly and buy us time in the process. I'm also not sure which bedroom is hers, so we'll have to find it without waking her parents up," Tyson said. "It'll be a job that requires a lot of stealth."

                "Invisible Boy," I mumbled.

                "I'll gather the blackmail we need on her. Connor will get us access to her laptop, because I have an idea on that end. We need to make a spectacle out of this, and that's going to take some work. Work that can't wake her or her parents up," Tyson said. "We need to be quick and quiet about this."

                "I can do that," I said confidently.

                "You have a lot of faith in yourself," Tyson said.

                "Well, yea, I'm a capable person," I said.

                "And you said I have an ego." He shook his head and shut the journal, tucking it back under his bed. "You're not afraid of getting caught?"

                "That big ego of yours wouldn't want you to get caught. You'll come up with a solid plan. I trust that," I said.

                He folded his hands behind his head and laid back on the bed. In his casual T-shirt and fancy slacks, he was a confusingly handsome sight.

                "You trust too easily," he said, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I could be playing you along. I could be planning to let you take the fall so we never get caught."

                "What, and now you're turning into that mastermind who announces his plan?" I said.

                "I'm just saying," he said with a shrug. "You trust way too easily. People like that are the ones who get fucked over. Betrayal could run through my veins and you're just going along with my plans."

                "I wanted to make friends when I joined this club," I said. "Now I'm making a difference. And I think you're getting fond of me."

                "Am I?" He turned his head to face me. "You're not the worst person I've ever been stuck with. I'm picky, though. You still have a ways to go to impress me."

                "I might be trusting, but that doesn't mean I'm easy to please either," I said.

                He gave the faintest grin. "A Mary Sue with a dark side to him. At least they stuck an interesting spy in our club."

                "Will you ever tell me what drives you to do these revenge schemes?" I said.

                "Maybe someday. If you impress me," he said.

                He closed his eyes and I made myself comfortable on his bed. Impress him. My life goal wasn't to impress Tyson, but I did have a bit of a petty urge to do it just to show him that I could.

                We sat in silence, both consumed by our own thoughts. A way to impress Tyson.

                "Tyson," I said, eyes widening. "I have an idea."

                "Good for you," Tyson said without opening his eyes.

                "You want to get at Patrick Mallory and the Braxton bullies, right?" I said.

                Now he opened his eyes. "And?"

                "And we're targeting the daughter of a journalist. The cops and the school haven't been releasing the names of the targets. But we could," I said. "We could release their names and their actions. Let Tiffany's mom do the rest of the work."

                Tyson sat up. "That's pretty dark."

                "They hurt people, didn't they?" I said, hating that he was right. Was this too wrong? Was this too far?

                But bullies...they willingly hurt people. They could wreck someone's life and they did it just to feel good about themselves. Didn't they deserve these consequences?

                "We'll go through our past targets and single out the worst," Tyson said. "Let them figure out how to clean up their own shitty reputations once the information gets out. What about Mallory?"

                "Call him out. All his money, all his promises? They didn't protect Tiffany from us," I said. "Mallory can give all the speeches and cash he wants, but he's not stopping us. Let him know it."

                "So we use Tiffany's mom to our advantage," Tyson mumbled to himself, eyes lighting up a little. "I like it. You have quite the vendetta against bullies."

                "You have quite the vendetta against Patrick Mallory," I said.

                "Touché. Topic dropped," Tyson said. "Let's do our homework."

                "This club, is it causing tensions between you and Farren?" I asked as we grabbed our bags.

                Tyson rolled his eyes. "Farren is the logical one of the group. Even more logical than me, I suppose. Tensions, sure. But I could chops his legs off and he'd still find a way to stand by me. I'm not worried about the Social Action Club ruining my friendships with anyone." He glanced at me. "What, you don't have a pain in the ass best friend from your home town?"

                "No," I said.

                He raised an eyebrow. "A story there, if your wince is to be trusted."

                Shit. He'd seen that.

                "You wanted to do homework, right? I can talk all day if you don't. I have a lovely voice," I said.

                "I'm not going to force you to tell me your life. I have my own life to deal with, I don't want the weight of yours. Shut up and work," Tyson said.

                So we did. We worked together in silence, and I used my complicated homework to occupy my mind. There was a strange sort of trust weaving itself between me and Tyson, but it wasn't a strong enough web to trust him with my past.

                "Boys! Dinner!"

                Mrs. Strazio's voice snapped us out of our thoughts a while later. We put our homework away and went downstairs, sitting in the living room.

                "Vinny, stop!" Mrs. Strazio said, laughing as she entered the room with a bowl of salad. Mr. Strazio was following her, peeling a carrot over her shoulder and occasionally flicking shreds of it onto her face.

                "I see where I learned my maturity from," Tyson said.

                "Adults can have fun, Ty," Mr. Strazio said, peeling the rest of the carrot shavings into the salad and sitting down with us. "Remember when you were little? You'd get so jealous when my brother would watch you so your mom and I could go out back and swim. You said you wished you were old enough to have fun with us."

                "You could've, if you weren't so afraid of the pool," Mrs. Strazio said.

                "You were afraid of pools?" I said.

                "Terrified," Mrs. Strazio said. "I couldn't teach him to swim until he was almost six. He was fine in the bath as long as you sat with him the whole time."

                "I was a child and children are afraid of dumb things," Tyson said, though I could see the faintest blush on his face. "I'm sure everyone in this room had a dumb fear as a kid."

                "Afraid of pools but slinging around your stupid BB gun," Mr. Strazio said, shaking his head. "You were a weird kid."

                "Still is a weird kid," Mrs. Strazio said. "A good kid, but a weird one."

                "Thanks, mom. Flattering," Tyson said.

                "Is he good in school, Nolan? Does Ty behave?" Mrs. Strazio asked.

                "We don't have classes together and I've only seen him around the halls," I admitted. "We just see each other during Social Action Club."

                "Well, he better behave. I raised him to have manners," Mrs. Strazio said. "Believe it or not, he used to use his manners all the time. He was this quiet, sweet boy. And then he hit puberty and decided he was a man now and didn't need manners."

                "You're boring Nolan," Tyson said. "I highly doubt he cares about any of that."

                "Well I like Nolan. He's a nice kid. I bet he uses manners around his mother," Mrs. Strazio said.

                I laughed a little. "I try to. But I live with my Uncle for school now, so my mom is free from me."

                "Now, don't word it like that. As much as my boy drives me crazy, I'd miss Tyson if he went to live with someone else for a while," Mrs. Strazio said. "I'm sure your mother misses you."

                I dropped my gaze a little. I'm sure some part of my mother missed me, but I'm sure some part was relieved I was gone. No more Invisible Boy creeping through the rooms, no more tiptoeing around my fragile moods, no more monitoring every word and action. My parents could finally breathe freely and not waste so much energy on me.

                "I doubt she misses him," Tyson said. "He talks too much."

                "So do you," Mr. Strazio said. "And most of it is rude."

                Tyson flicked a piece of food at his dad. "I learned from the best."

                We ate and I watched the Strazio family interact. Tyson's parents seemed really close with each other, and really close with their son. That made me happy to see. Parents needed to love and support their children. Tyson's mom seemed strict but loving, and his dad seemed playfully affectionate towards him.

                When we finished eating, Tyson and I went back upstairs and worked in more silence until our homework was done. I packed up my bag, Tyson kicking his work away from himself.

                "We'll act soon," he said. "Get yourself ready for this job."

                "I am," I said, knowing it needed to be done. Who knew how much these bullies had mentally and emotionally wrecked their victims? It was time someone showed them, and anyone else with the same attitude, that things like that were going to come back to bite them in the ass.

                Tyson walked me downstairs and watched as I put my shoes on. He caught my arm as I started out the door.

                "It's the right thing," he said. "People need to be called on their shit or they'll just keep repeating their actions and creating more victims. The actions at Braxton might seem mild, but they'll have a ripple effect. We're just serving up some needed revenge here."

                "Revenge and justice aren't the same thing," I said, shrugging out of his grip. "But I do think this is the best thing to handle this situation."

                "Later, outcast," he said.

                "Watch out for any scary pools," I said.

                "Oh, piss off," he said, shutting the door in my face.

                I laughed to myself and got in my car. As I started driving back towards my Uncle's house, I mentally calmed myself. This was the way to start tearing down the bullying problem at Braxton. This was the way to start making a real difference around here.