The Karma Club (8 page)

They both stare at me, clearly not comprehending what I’m alluding to at all. And I don’t blame them. It’s a tad far-fetched. But that doesn’t change the fact that it is, in my humble opinion, beyond genius.

So I continue. “Personally, I’m tired of waiting for the universe to get off its butt and start fixing stuff. I don’t want to wait around for Mason to get what’s coming to him. Or Heather Campbell, for that matter. ’Cause who knows how long that will take? A month? A year? Five years? Ten? I could have kids of my own in high school by the time they both get what they deserve. And I don’t want to wait that long. I want to be there to see it happen.”

“But, Maddy,” Jade cautions me, “that’s just how Karma works, unfortunately. You kinda
have
to wait.”

“Who says!” I shoot back, causing her to cower slightly behind her smoothie cup. “Who says that’s how it has to work? The great and powerful gods of Karma? Who the heck are they? And if they’re so good at what they do, what’s taking them so long to do it?”

“It’s only been a week, Maddy,” Angie reminds me in a gentle tone that is terribly out of character for her. She’s probably starting to worry about my mental well-being and has decided to err on the side of caution with a coddling approach.

“For me, yes. But what about
you
?” I turn and directly face her. “Do I have to remind you what Ryan did to you last year at junior prom?”

She bows slightly and shakes her head. I know that, as hard as she’s tried, she just can’t bring herself to fully forgive and forget the horrid night when Ryan got completely wasted behind the school with some of his friends and then came back inside and started to make a total scene on the dance floor. Angie noticed the empty flask in his coat pocket and, not wanting him to get busted, attempted to sneak Ryan out of the gym without anyone noticing. But they got stopped by one of the faculty chaperones, who found the flask too and turned both of them over to the principal. At school on Monday morning, the principal questioned them separately in his office, and while Angie, in order to protect her boyfriend, stuck to the story she and Ryan had prepared over the weekend—that
neither
of them had been drinking and that they had found the empty flask on one of the tables—Ryan reported quite a different version. Knowing that Angie was going
to deny the whole thing, he saw the opportunity to remove himself from the equation and took it. He told Dr. Gaines that the flask belonged to Angie, that he confiscated it from her after he found her drunk in the hallway and was just trying to make sure she got home safely.

Angie got a two-week suspension and the worst heartbreak of her life.

“What happened to him?” I prod her.

Angie avoids my eyes and slurps her shake, clearly attempting to avoid this game. But I am more than happy to play it.

“What
happened
to him?” I press her again.

She takes a deep breath and surrenders to me. “He was chosen as the starting pitcher and captain of Colonial High’s varsity baseball team this year.”

“And?”

She sighs and mumbles. “And now he’s dating Leslie Gellar, the head cheerleader.”

I nod diplomatically, pretending to think long and hard about my next sentence. “Yep, sounds like he got
exactly
what he deserves.”

Jade giggles beside me, and I immediately turn my attention to her, my next victim. “And you . . .”

She stops giggling and shoots me a clever smile. I can tell she’s enjoying my charade. “Yes, Grim Reaper?”

“Has Seth been properly punished in your eyes for what he did to you?”

Jade snorts loudly and shakes her head. “Absolutely not.”

“Because what is he doing now?” I ask rhetorically before answering my own question. “He’s dating some sorority chick who
goes to UC Berkeley. Which
means
he gets to go to Delta Delta Delta parties nearly every weekend. Yep, sounds like Karma definitely got to him too!”

“What’s your point, Maddy?” Angie snaps, rather impatiently.

I smile at her eagerness. The dramatic buildup is working out exactly as I intended it to.

“My point is: Guys have been screwing us over our entire lives. And we keep telling ourselves that they’ll get what they deserve. That Karma will take its course. Because it makes us feel better long enough for us to shack up with a new and supposedly
better
loser, who will inevitably do the same thing to us.

“Well,
screw that
! It’s time to make Karma work for
us
. Even that guru guy at the retreat said that it’s up to us to find balance in our own lives. So I say, the responsibility to even out the playing field and reverse the imbalance in our lives does not belong to the universe. It belongs to us! We have to watch out for each other. Take care of each other. Because it’s pretty darn clear that the boys aren’t going to be the ones to do it. In the end, we only have our friends. And if we don’t help each other out, no one will.”

I take another long, drawn-out pause before finishing off my soapbox diatribe with the climactic clincher that I practiced in front of the mirror as soon as I got home from the retreat. “It’s time to start balancing out the universe.”

They both stare at me for a few blank moments before Jade finally asks, “So you want to humiliate Mason in the same way he humiliated you?”

I knew she’d be not only the first one to understand where I am going with this but also the first one to jump onboard with it.

“Exactly,” I say authoritatively. “But not just Mason. The rest of them too. Heather, Seth,
and
Ryan.”

Jade bites her bottom lip anxiously as I watch her slip into a brief daydream, most likely about getting back at the guy who completely ruined her junior year of high school.

“But we have to make a pact,” I say, pulling her back to the present. “A pact that only we know about. Like a secret, members-only club. A
Karma
Club. Whose sole purpose is to clean up the messes that the universe has been leaving behind.”

“I am
so
with you,” Jade says, a huge grin spreading across her face. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“Me too,” Angie says shortly after.

“Nice!” I exclaim, rubbing my hands together in a sinister way like Dr. Evil planning out his plot for world domination. I feel a tingling thrill run through my body. I knew my friends would support this idea. I never doubted that. But the rush that I feel when they actually confirm it is exhilarating. I feel like I’m finally part of a team. A real team. Not the one-sided, dishonest team that turned out to be my relationship with Mason. But a partnership based on trust and friendship and loyalty. And I have never loved my friends more than I do at this moment.

“But this has to be our secret,” I remind them with a serious expression. “No one can know that we are in any way responsible for what is about to happen. Everything has to be completely and utterly anonymous. Untraceable. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be Karma. It would just be three bitter girls trying to get back at a bunch of their ex-boyfriends and the girl who stole one of them, which isn’t the point at all. These people will never learn their lessons if they think that they’re just part of an angry revenge scheme.”

“Agreed,” Jade says. “Absolute secrecy.”

“Definitely,” Angie approves.

“And may I also suggest another pact,” I say smartly. “That we swear off all guys until after graduation. So we can stop the process dead in its tracks. Because if our experiences have proven anything to us, it’s that high school boys are
all
heartbreakers.”

Jade nods. “
Scumbags
is a better word.”

“Amen,” Angie says with a scoff.

“Good,” I reply with satisfaction.

“So how do we do it?” Jade asks, ready to jump right in and get started. “How do we make them pay?”

“That’s easy,” I reply confidently before slurping up the last of my smoothie. This is the fun part. The part I’ve been waiting for all day. “We figure out what’s most valuable to them . . . and we take it away.”

From the Official Notebook of the Karma Club

Karmic Beneficiary #1

Name:
Mason Brooks

Background:
Ex-boyfriend of Madison Kasparkova. Class president, member of the varsity soccer team, early acceptance to Amherst College

Universal Imbalance:
Cheated on Karma Club member with Heather Campbell at Loft party

Valued Possession:
His new girlfriend

From the moment
I wake up the following Monday morning, I can tell that it’s going to be a good day. Because today is the day we officially declare war. The afternoon in the food court was a week ago, and for the past seven days, my friends and I have spent all of our free time gathering information. Plotting our missions, strategizing our attacks, organizing our troops.

But most important, figuring out where and when to strike our four primary targets.

Because every successful military commander knows that a strategy is crucial to any battle. Which is why our first order of business for the Karma Club was to design a comprehensive battle plan that we carefully recorded in a small pink notebook we purchased especially for the occasion. This way we’re more than prepared for what is about to come.

I manage to hit every single green light on the way to school, which is something that never happens. It’s almost like the stars
are lining up in my favor. The universe is responding to my proactive approach to balance.

I finally feel like I’m in control.

As I take my usual seat next to Jade in our first-period English class, I know that today this seat holds much more meaning than it ever did before. Because this seat in the third row, second from the end, which used to be simply the location of Jade’s and my morning catch-up session, has now become something more than just a place for gossip. It has become a stage.

And the audience is the girl who sits directly in front of us.

Jenna LeRoux.

Otherwise known as Heather Campbell’s best friend. And we know that as soon as Jenna’s ears—which are constantly on the alert for new gossip—pick up the conversation we are about to have, she will waste no time repeating it to Heather. Of course, this is exactly what we’re counting on.

The bell signaling the beginning of first period rings, and Jenna slides into her usual seat in front of us as I turn and flash Jade a knowing smile.

We wait patiently until about twenty minutes into class, when Mr. Larson is standing in the front of the room reading passionately from his copy of
Invisible Man
. That’s when Jade inches closer to my desk and whispers, “Were you serious about what you said last night?”

I lean toward her and respond, “About what?”

“About how you used to check Mason’s e-mail.”

I release a quiet giggle, the kind that is the perfect combination of shame and embarrassment, and then whisper back, “Yeah, I’m not proud of it, though. But with Mason’s track record, I kind of
had to. How else would I have found out about his drop-dead-gorgeous pen pal from South America?”

Mr. Larson finishes the passage he’s reading and closes his book, holding it close to his chest. “So what did you think about the way the author used symmetry there to convey his struggle?”

Someone in the front of the class raises their hand and starts to answer the question, and Jade takes this opportunity to ask, “How did you figure out his password?”

I can see the back of Jenna’s head move ever so slightly in front of us, and I have a feeling that she’s maneuvering herself to get a better listen. So I giggle quietly and say, “Trust me, it wasn’t hard. It’s his last name and the year he was born. It only took me three tries to hack in. At first, I didn’t find anything, but then I checked his Deleted Items folder. Because when guys are sneaking around, they’ll usually remember to delete the original e-mail, but they’ll almost
always
forget to empty the Deleted Items folder.”

Jade laughs purposefully loud, attracting the attention of Mr. Larson. “Excuse me, Ms. Bristow. Do you find something funny about Ms. Rodriguez’s answer?”

Jade quickly shakes her head and stares straight forward. “Of course not,” she replies tactfully.

Mr. Larson looks at her with skepticism. “Then I’ll have to ask that you and Ms. Kasparkova save your private conversations for after class.”

“Sorry,” Jade mutters but then turns to me and from underneath her desk gives me a very enthusiastic thumbs-up. There’s nothing like getting in trouble with your English teacher to help throw in that extra ounce of credibility.

I should probably mention though that the story about the password
is not exactly true. I never went in search of Mason’s password, and there was never any South American pen pal. But we had to find a way to give Heather (through Jenna, of course) a reason to suspect Mason in the first place and, consequently, we hoped, a reason to go snooping through his e-mail account.

The truth is, Mason actually
gave
me his e-mail password once when he was lost and needed me to log in to his account to fetch some directions. In hindsight, if he knew what I was doing with it right now, this would probably seem like a really big mistake.

And it definitely came in handy last night when the three of us logged in and planted a not-so-innocent-looking e-mail exchange between Mason and some girl named Catherine Linton.

Of course, Catherine Linton doesn’t really exist. Well, except as the main character of
Wuthering Heights
. But given the fact that I know for sure Mason has never read that book, and Heather has probably never read
a
book, I figured it was a safe pseudonym.

Now, all we have to do is wait and see if Jenna LeRoux, our unknowing messenger, delivers the information in a timely fashion.

“
Who
is Catherine Linton?” Heather Campbell’s angered voice bellows down the hallway after lunch, effectively reaching everyone and anyone within a fifty-foot radius, including Jade and me, who are hidden safely behind a row of lockers, watching the blessed event unfold in front of us.