“How did you know I was talking to Chase? And it wasn’t like I planned to run into him. He was just there. And he started talking to me first.” My defense was thinner than tissue paper, even to me.
“You can’t see my face right now,” she drawled, “but it’s not impressed by your excuses. And never mind how I know. Do I need to remind you that you helped break up his last relationship? Not even helped. You were the reason they broke up. Once his girlfriend saw that photo, she went b-a-n-a-n-a-s.”
My skin prickled. “How do you know that? I thought you said we don’t get to meet any of the other teams.”
“I don’t have to know them to hear how their assignments go. I don’t usually care enough to follow up, but this was your first job and I wanted to see it through.”
I huffed, disappointed by the completely reasonable response.
“Anyways, that’s not why I called. We’ve got a job. I’ll be in the theater room. Meet me after school.”
CHAPTER 7
AFTER CLASSES ENDED, I changed into my running clothes and made my way back to the performing arts department. I wasn’t sure how long this meeting would last, but it had been days since I was on the track and my legs were aching for a good workout. Despite the cold wind, I knew track would be the calmest part of my day. No matter what storm was raging around me, there was peace in running.
“Hey.” I jogged into the theater room and dropped my stuff. The theater room had a damp basement smell that was becoming familiar.
“Hey yourself.” I’d known her for only a day, but Haley had the kind of barbed exterior that made you wonder if she was shielding herself from getting hurt or warning others to stay away from damaged goods.
She had a fancy tablet balanced on her knees and was fully engrossed in whatever was on the screen.
“What kind of action are we getting?” I asked impatiently after a few moments of silence. In addition to my run, I had hours of homework and some debate team work to do. Gigi, the ambitious freshman from debate, had asked me to review notes from our last meet to help her improve. I did not have time to wait here while Miss High-and-Mighty ignored me.
She gestured toward the stack of playing cards next to her on the sofa, a royal flush. I’d brushed up on winning poker hands the night before.
“It’s an election rigging for Homecoming.” She finally tore her gaze away from the tablet and looked at me. “My favorite.” Her eyes were legitimately sparkling like the Grinch’s after he stole Christmas.
“Do you do a lot of elections?”
“The last two Homecomings, one prom, and one student council election.” There was a fierce note of pride in her voice.
“Impressive.”
“Come look.”
Haley moved to the floor and set her tablet down. She also took out a couple of notebooks and spread them out.
Sitting next to her, I examined the screen on the tablet. “What’s all this?”
“This is what we use to start every assignment. Once I’m dealt a hand, I know to log in to this special email account for the job brief. It contains everything we need to know to get a job done.”
“Why even get the playing cards?” It had been irking me ever since I received my Red Court–issued phone. The cards in the locker seemed like an oddly analog move in an otherwise digital game.
“It’s tradition. Plus, there’s something exciting about opening my locker and seeing a hand all laid out.”
That was true enough. I’d felt the thrill of seeing a playing card in my locker twice. “Does the Red Court usually get more than one request for Homecoming? How would we decide?”
Haley shrugged. “From what I understand, no. We get far fewer requests than you might think for something this big. Most students who are popular enough to win don’t need our help. It’s only the really desperate ones that come knocking. If we do receive more than one request, the Queen of Hearts decides which way we go, but we never let anyone know that their favor hasn’t been accepted ahead of time. They’ll figure it out eventually, but by then it’s too late.”
I mulled this over. Getting yourself elected to Homecoming Court probably required more resources than other jobs, like breaking up a couple. The open look Chase had worn when we talked in the hallway flashed in my mind, but there wasn’t time to consider why it bothered me so much. Haley and I had work to do.
She continued, “Anyway. This is what we get for every new job. It explains the goal of our assignment. In this case, it’s getting Maura Wright elected Homecoming Queen. I also have a list of assets available to us.”
“Like supplies?”
“More like people. When you said that favors don’t cost money, you were right, and I told you that we collect on our debts in other ways. We couldn’t do everything ourselves. We ask those who owe us to perform small parts in other assignments. That’s how the Red Court has been able to continue for as long as it has, by parlaying one favor to the next. We have a lot of influence on our own as members, but it’s multiplied by ten when you consider how many people we have control over.”
The thought both sickened and intrigued me. “Can I see it?”
“Eventually. When it’s your turn to start running your own jobs, you’ll be granted access to the ledger. But you still have some work to do to prove yourself.”
A thought occurred to me. Did this ledger have record of April’s takedown? Could I find the person who’d requested a hit on her? I’d always been more focused on the game and not the players, but finding a name would be gravy on top of the Red Court’s destruction.
“Is it everyone since the beginning of the Red Court? It would have to be thousands of names long.”
Haley shook her head. “This list is only of current students. It’s the primary pool we work from. We keep more detailed records, but only the Queen of Hearts has access to them.”
My shoulders sank, but mindful of Haley’s calculating gaze, I moved the conversation in another direction.
“Aren’t you nervous that one of these people might turn on you?”
“No. If they did, we’d turn on them. If anyone came forward, it would be mutually assured destruction. And no high school student is willing to risk social ruin.”
She said high school student like she wasn’t one. Like I wasn’t one. The other kids in our school had morphed into a “them.”
“What’s mutually assured destruction?”
Haley smirked. “If you get Clark for US History, you’ll hear all about it. It’s this thing from the Cold War. Basically, it means that if anyone on this list sells us out, we take them down, too. We have so much dirt on everyone. It would be wholesale slaughter of the entire school’s reputation. Even the administration is too scared to acknowledge we exist. I mean, how would it look if we laid everything out?”