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and dad keep Lupe’s pretty dark for romantic dates … I expected Frank to bump into something. He didn’t.
    Frank nodded to Oliver, and then to me. He sat down at our booth, sunglasses still on, and slid the invitation facedown across the table.

    â€œI got your message. I like your style. It looks like you’ve done your research. You want someone familiar with the inner workings of the human mind. Someone who can make things. Fix things. Know things.” Frank tapped his temple. “You’re assembling a team, and you want the best. Congratulations. I’m here, and I’m listening.”
    â€œHow did you know I sent the invitation?” I asked.
    â€œYou said to meet here. This is your family’s restaurant.” Frank took off his sunglasses and squinted at each of us. We stared back at him.
    Diego brought some guacamole and chips out and slid them across the table. “Your mom thought you guys might need some snacks,” he said.
    â€œThanks, Diego,” I said. He went back into the kitchen and sang along with gusto to some song about a mean redhead running away with his heart and horse. I hoped that Oliver and Frank didn’t know Spanish.
    Oliver dug in and Frank waited for him to stop crunching before he spoke again. “What can I do for you?”
    â€œYeah, Ben.” Oliver glanced at my mom and leaned forward. “What is this about?”
    â€œI’m making a secret society for pranks and goofing off.” I tried to keep my voice as low as possible. It sounded kind of cool. “The Pit of Stink? I did that.” Frank’s eyes flicked to Oliver, and then back to me. “I’m ready to do more, but I can’t do it alone. I think you two might be able to help.” Oliver smiled and nodded, but Frank stayed still. A loud motorcycle went by, and Diego chopped in the kitchen.
    â€œWho else have you asked?” Frank said.
    â€œYeah, who else knows about this?” Oliver said.
    â€œNo one,” I said.
    â€œWhat do you have in mind?” Frank asked. “I gotta tell you, fake dog poop and trick gum aren’t really my thing.”
    â€œNah, I don’t want to do stuff like that. I’m talking about big stuff. The ball pit could be just the beginning,” I said. I noticed my hands were shaking a little, so I put them under the table. “I want to have fun—but it has to be secret. Which means no bragging.” I looked right at Oliver.
    â€œCool,” Oliver said, and took another chip. We waited for him to eat it. “What? I didn’t tell anybody I did the balls. I just didn’t tell them they were wrong when they thought I did.”
    â€œWell, you can’t do that, either. It’s got to be our secret,” I said. “You have to swear.”
    â€œFine,” Oliver said. “I swear.”
    â€œYou’d better,” I said. “Nobody can know.”
    Frank put his sunglasses on and stood up.
    â€œI think I understand,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”
    â€œDon’t tell anybody,” I called after him. My mom didn’t turn around, but she sat up straighter in the universal position of parental eavesdropping. There wasn’t anything left to overhear because the bells jingled over the door and Frank Lenny was gone.
    My mom was still listening so I gestured to Oliver and we left, too. Once we were out on the sidewalk, he turned to me.
    â€œDo you think he’ll tell?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said. I was wondering the same thing. “I’ve only known him this year. I heard this is, like, his sixth school. We don’t even know anything about him.” Oliver stopped walking, and he looked a little ticked.
    â€œSome kids move. It doesn’t really have anything to do with them. You know?” he said. “They just go where the grown-ups tell them to go. It doesn’t mean he’s a kid super-spy or