The Karma Club
“We’ll brainstorm on it more tonight,” Jade suggests. “When we finalize the details for Operation Cross-Dresser.”
All of our missions are given code names. Mostly so we can talk about them at school without the risk of anyone figuring out what we’re up to. But also because Operation Cross-Dresser or Operation Butter Face just sounds much better and more exciting than something like “Tonight we’re gonna replace Heather’s acne medication with Crisco.”
Although, that one does sound pretty hilarious.
Once we are gathered in Jade’s bedroom after school that day, I clear my throat to get Jade’s and Angie’s attention and say, “Before we get started tonight, I have a little surprise for both of you.”
Jade grabs a slice of pizza from the delivery box sitting on the floor and takes a bite. “What kind of surprise?”
From inside my backpack, I remove three jewelry boxes gift-wrapped in shiny silver paper and topped off with bright pink bows. I hand one to Jade, one to Angie, and the other I hold on my lap for myself.
I ordered the gifts online the night we formed the Karma Club, and they had finally arrived in the mail yesterday.
“What is it?” Jade asks as she holds the box up to her ear like she’s expecting to hear a ticking bomb inside.
“Just a small token of our alliance,” I reply.
Angie tears the wrapping off of hers first and gasps when she opens the box and peers inside. “Oh my God!”
“Don’t tell me,” Jade yells, shielding her eyes from Angie’s unwrapped gift. She stops shaking hers, carefully removes the wrapping paper, and opens the box to reveal a sterling silver charm bracelet inside. “Wow! Maddy, it’s beautiful!”
“I thought you guys would like them,” I say.
I used up the very last remaining cent in my bank account to buy three identical charm bracelets with, as of right now, the same lonely charm hanging from each of them.
“I love it!” Angie exclaims.
“I figured we could add to them every time we successfully accomplished one of our Karmic goals,” I explain as Angie and Jade remove the bracelets from their boxes and admire them. I pick up the box in my lap and, despite the fact that I already know exactly what’s inside, rip off the wrapping paper like a little girl expecting a new bicycle on Christmas morning. I remove my matching bracelet from the box and clasp it around my wrist.
Jade quickly follows suit and then holds her wrist up in front of her face so she can examine it further.
“What does this charm mean?” Angie asks, fingering the small half-black, half-white circle that hangs from her bracelet.
“It’s called a Yin-Yang,” I explain expertly, trying to sound exactly like Rajiv, my Karma guru. “It’s a symbol for harmony and balance. And it’s there to remind us that for every bad thing that happens, there is an equal and opposite good thing waiting just around the corner. All we have to do is find it.”
“That’s awesome,” Angie replies. “Did you learn that at Camp Karma?”
I laugh. “I did actually.”
We admire the bracelets for another ten minutes, discussing what the perfect charms would be for each of the four missions we already have planned, and then Jade reminds us that we have to go over the final details for our payback mission against Ryan Feldman this Saturday.
I pull our official Karma Club notebook out of my backpack and flip open to the next blank page so I can record the details of our discussion. And although we make significant progress on Operation Cross-Dresser, the rest of the night unfortunately yields no results pertaining to our little problem with Mason and Heather. Namely that they’re still together. Many suggestions are thrown out there and then discarded because they violate our strict rule of anonymity. We can’t do anything that might cause Mason to suspect I’m behind it. Like put roses in his locker with a card from Catherine Linton. Because Mason knows that I’m the only other person who has his locker combination besides the school administration staff, so he’d easily connect the dots to me.
We also think about just sending more e-mails and text messages but quickly rule that option out because whatever Mason is doing to convince Heather he’s innocent is clearly working.
So by the end of the night we are back to square one. Meaning that for the next three days before the weekend arrives I am forced to watch Mason and Heather make a spectator sport out of their loving affectionate relationship. Which I think in some countries is probably considered cruel and unusual punishment.
From the Official Notebook of the Karma Club
Karmic Beneficiary #3
Name: Ryan Feldman
Background: Ex-boyfriend of Angie Harper. Starting pitcher for Colonial High’s varsity baseball team. Currently dating Leslie Gellar, head cheerleader
Universal Imbalance: Sold out club member during junior prom drinking fiasco in order to preserve his own reputation
Valued Possession: His spot on the varsity team
OPERATION CROSS-DRESSER
When Saturday afternoon arrives, I manage to put my obsession with breaking up Mason and Heather on hold so that I can focus on our current mission against Ryan Feldman.
At one o’clock, Angie and I are back in the mall food court with Jade while she’s on her lunch break to discuss last-minute details about today’s operation.
“Are you sure she got the postcard?” I ask Jade as I pop a French fry into my mouth.
Jade sips on her soda and nods. “Definitely,” she says after swallowing. “I sent it out a few days ago, and I overheard Leslie mention it yesterday when she was at Ryan’s locker.”
Fortunately for the Karma Club, Jade’s locker happens to be exactly three lockers down from Ryan’s. This proved to be a problem at the beginning of the year because Angie refused to go anywhere near it in fear of running into her dreaded ex. So we were always forced to congregate around her locker. But lately it’s proven to be more of an asset than a liability because Jade has been able to overhear several of Ryan Feldman’s conversations over the past two weeks. One of which was between Ryan and his girlfriend, who was planning to drag him with her on one of her infamous shopping excursions this weekend. Ryan wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea, but after Leslie whined incessantly for several minutes, complaining that he never takes any interest in the things she likes to do, he eventually gave in and agreed to come to the mall with her today.
This invaluable information then provided the foundation for our mission. And during Jade’s next shift, she snuck into the manager’s office and “borrowed” one of the 50 percent off anything in the store promotional postcards that the manager only sends out to special customers. We then addressed the postcard to Leslie Gellar and filled in the expiration date with today’s date. So if Leslie wanted to get her 50 percent off Eve’s Closet merchandise, today would be the day to do it.
“Don’t worry,” Jade assures me as she scrunches up the wrapper of her sandwich. “Leslie will be coming in the store today, and she’s bringing Ryan.” Then Jade launches into an imitation that she refers to as her Godfather voice and says, “It was an offer she couldn’t refuse.”
“Okay, good,” I reply. “So what do Angie and I have to do?”
“Well,” Jade responds thoughtfully, “Angie has to be completely out of sight. If she is in any way connected to the crime scene, he’ll immediately suspect something is up.”
Angie nods. “She’s right. I’ll hang out in the store across the way and text you when I see them enter Eve’s Closet.”
“Good idea,” Jade says, pointing at Angie with authority, like she’s presiding over a board meeting at a Fortune 500 corporation. Then she turns to me. “And you. You can be on watch in the store. I’ll need an extra pair of eyes in there. I still have to do my job, so I won’t be able to keep tabs on Ryan the entire time.”
“No problem.”
“But try to stay out of their line of sight. Leslie knows who you are, and if she recognizes you and makes a big deal out of seeing you, you
’ll immediately look suspicious after everything goes down.”
“Got it,” I say.
Jade checks her watch. “Okay, I better get back. They agreed to meet at the mall at two, so both of you should finish up here and get in position as soon as possible in case they get here early. We want to be ready.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m ducking around the racks of bras and panties, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible, when my phone vibrates. I pull it out of my pocket and glance at the text message on the screen. It’s from Angie.
Entering now
My eyes dart toward the entrance of the store, and I see Leslie Gellar and Ryan Feldman coming in my direction. I quickly turn my head and open whatever drawer is closest to me, pretending to be very interested in locating an underwire, full-coverage bra in my size. Which, judging by the drawer that I’ve opened, is somewhere between a 36D and a 42DD. Great.
I stuff my phone in my pocket and start flipping through a couple of the bras, trying to look like just another interested shopper. Then I casually glance over my left shoulder and see Leslie carrying three shopping bags and browsing through a low-rise bikini table while Ryan stands off to her side, looking very bored and extremely uncomfortable.
“I don’t know why you dragged me in here,” he is saying to her as he stuffs his hands nervously in his pockets. “I look like a perv standing in the middle of a bunch of women’s underwear.”
Leslie rolls her eyes and continues sifting through the items on the table. “No, you don’t. Not as long as you stay next to me. Then you just look like the boyfriend of a girl who wears very hot underwear. I thought you’d like that.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and doesn’t respond. His body language pretty much speaks for itself. This apparently frustrates Leslie, because she stamps her foot a little and says, “I told you why we’re here, Ryan. I got a coupon in the mail the other day and it expires today! Do you even know how valuable a fifty percent off coupon is in Eve’s Closet?”
Ryan sighs, indicating that, in fact, he does not know.
“Be patient,” Leslie tells him in a very motherly tone as he slides into a nearby chair and starts to sulk. “I just need to stock up on underwear and maybe a few new bras.”
I inch my way to the left and hide safely behind a circular rack of sexy boy shorts while I take my phone out of my pocket and send a text to Jade.
Back of the store, low-cut bikini table
Then I begin to sift through the boy shorts and wait for Jade to appear to execute the next phase in the plan. Except after a few minutes, she’s still nowhere in sight. I glance up to see that she’s standing behind the register waiting on a customer. And behind that customer, there are at least five people waiting to pay for their items. She catches my eye and glances frustratedly at the line, indicating that she’s pretty much stuck there.
I look back at Leslie, whose arms are now full of various bras and panties and, from what it looks like, some type of corset. She struggles to hold everything and still manage to hang on to her three shopping bags.
Ryan, who looks even more bored than he did a few minutes ago, goes “Look, I’m just gonna wait outside. This store makes me nervous.”
Leslie pouts slightly and replies, “Fine, go.”
My eyes widen, and I look back at Jade and her line of customers, which has grown by two people in the last thirty seconds. I try to get her attention by doing everything short of waving my hands in the air and jumping up and down, then finally dig out my phone once again and quickly type out a frantic text message. But my panicked fingers are totally slipping all over the keys.
Rxan leazing, whav sgould I do?
Jade doesn’t look up. She’s far too involved with the customer in front of her to even notice that her cell phone has just buzzed in her pocket.
I look back at Ryan, who’s now happily making his way to the front of the store, and I know that we’re about to lose our opportunity to do what we came here to do. And if that happens, Ryan’s universal imbalance will go completely unchecked. I immediately start to freak out.
Then I hear Leslie’s voice. “Hey!”
And for a minute I think she’s talking to me, which would mean that my cover is blown. Not that it matters anyway, now that Ryan is about to leave the store and Jade is bogged down behind a register, unable to do anything about it.
But when I turn my head toward Leslie, I notice that she’s not even looking at me. Or anywhere in my direction. She’s looking at Ryan. And he stops just thirty feet short of the entrance to the mall. His shoulders drop like those of a prison inmate about to get his first taste of paroled freedom only to be called back inside the moment he sees the light of day. He faces her. “What?”
“Can you at least take these bags with you?” Leslie calls from halfway across the store, her arms still overflowing with underwear. “I can’t carry them and all this stuff.”
Ryan reluctantly makes his way to the back of the store again.
My mind is racing. I take one more look at Jade. She’s still oblivious to everything that’s been going on. It’s now or never. If this operation is going to end with a victory and a charm for our bracelets, I know it’s entirely up to me.
With my back still turned to Leslie and Ryan, I reach over to the rack in front of me and grab three random pairs of panties. Then I slide along the wall until I come to another circular rack. This one is filled with slinky baby dolls. I casually bat at one with my hand until it falls to the ground, and then I crouch down next to the rack as if I’m going to retrieve it. Except instead of picking it up, I crawl along the base of the rack toward the center of the store.
Just then, Ryan stomps past me, Leslie’s shopping bags in hand, and while still managing to keep my head buried in a sea of satin and lace, I subtly reach out my arm and drop the panties into one of the shopping bags.
It’s not until a few seconds later, while I’m pulling myself to my feet and dusting off my hands, that I hear the alarms go off.
And that’s when I know that our mission is a success.
THE LEGEND OF THE GREAT GRANNY PANTY BANDIT
In a rumor mill like Colonial High, it doesn’t take long on Monday for word to spread about Ryan Feldman’s new criminal record. Particularly when it’s discovered that the stolen merchandise found in his shopping bag was none other than three pairs of extra-large women’s underwear. And although I know it would be that much more impressive if I could truthfully say that it was all part of some premeditated plan and that I specifically selected the cotton briefs popular among women over the age of fifty-five, I can’t really take the credit. I didn’t even know Eve’s Closet sold underwear like that. It was just a sign that fate was on our side and that Ryan was destined to receive the punishment he deserved. And based on the gossip churning this morning, that very punishment is currently being decided by the school’s administration. It is explicitly stated in the rules of the official California Interscholastic Federation that any illegal activity conducted during the course of the season warrants immediate suspension from the team. Which is exactly why we chose this particular mission in the first place.
Jade told us that, because the value of the stolen merchandise was so low, Ryan wouldn’t have to spend any time in jail, but the crime would go on his record as a misdemeanor.
She also informed us that Ryan tried to pin it on Leslie, who was forced to wait outside for the entire time Ryan was being interrogated in a back room of the store. He argued that obviously Leslie had thrown the underwear in the bag before she gave it to him to hold.
Apparently he hasn’t grown out of trying to use his girlfriends as scapegoats. I guess some things never change.
At lunch, I’m in the counseling office checking to see when I’m next scheduled to tutor Seth Taylor’s little brother, because the fate of our fourth mission is dependent upon me getting inside Seth’s house and snooping through his stuff. When I check the bulletin board, I see that Jacob Tay
lor has signed up for a session with me on Wednesday after school. As I’m turning to leave, I hear a voice behind me call out my name.
“Maddy?”
I spin around to see Mr. Wilson, the guidance counselor. “Can I see you in my office?”
I immediately rack my brain, trying to figure out what I might have done wrong. Maybe a parent complained about my tutoring style. Or that I’ve been distracted in my sessions lately. Or possibly one of my students failed a test. That never looks good for the tutor.
I sit down across from Mr. Wilson and try to appear relaxed and carefree. Nothing looks worse on the face of someone who’s about to get reprimanded than a guilty expression. “Is everything okay?” I ask casually. “Did Penny pass her trig test?”
“Oh, yes, Maddy. Everything is fine. Penny got a B plus.”
“That’s great!” I say. But if that’s not the problem, why am I sitting here?
“I think you’re doing a great job in this student tutoring program,” Mr. Wilson begins. “We’ve had nothing but positive feedback about you from the parents and the teachers.”
I feel a sense of relief wash over me. “Well, that’s good.”
“How are you handling your own workload?” Mr. Wilson asks.
“Fine. No problems.” There’s really no point in telling him that nearly every night I have to force myself to stop obsessing over Mason Brooks so I can finish my homework. In fact, I haven’t even told Jade and Angie that I still cry when I get into bed and the room is dark and my phone is silent. Those are the times I miss Mason the most. The times when he used to call me up and sometimes we would talk until I fell asleep. I know Angie and Jade would disapprove of that. Because this whole Karma Club thing is supposed to be getting me over him. It’s supposed to be how I move on. But the truth is, I haven’t. At least not entirely.