Everyone she saw wore the SALES FORCE T-shirts now, neon-green with the lettering like a heavy-metal album cover. The ones they got for selling their first box of chocolates. It had become a uniform at Middleton. Carrie could hardly believe it. Only a couple of weeks, and everyone was singing the monorail song.

Carrie spun her combination lock, grateful to have an excuse to look away from all the accusing eyes.

The doors opened at the end of the hall again, and the pounding took on a new urgency. “HOW MANY? HOW MANY? HOW MANY?”

Wade entered and held up his hands. “Fifteen!” he shouted, and a deafening cheer went up.

Carrie stashed her homework in her locker, ignoring the hate-mail that fell out. (She got three or four notes a day now, all of them calling her a bitch for not selling the candy bars.) Unbelievable, she thought. Wade had become a hero. All his past sins forgotten because he turned out to be a natural salesman.

Other people came in the door, and they all shouted their totals as well. They high-fived and ran and cheered their way down the hall. It really hadn’t taken that long for Middleton High to become the home of a cult.

Brianna walked up wearing one of the Sales Force T-shirts.

Carrie was surprised. “You too?”

Brianna was a perfectly average girl. Average grades, average looks. Invisible most of the time. She and Carrie got along. In fourth grade, Carrie had proven Brianna’s innocence when she was accused of cheating on a test. (The stolen answer key had been hidden in her desk by another student. Wade, of course.) They were friendly, if not exactly close.

But now Brianna was different. Brianna looked…mean.

“You got a problem with it?” she said. “You going to snitch on me, like you always do on Wade?”

“Wade is an asshole,” Carrie said, a little taken aback by the attitude. “You used to know that.”

“Maybe I grew up,” Brianna shot back in her very best snotty-girl voice. “Maybe I didn’t want to be a sad loser like you. Look around. You’re the only one who’s not on board.”

Carrie did. Brianna was right. Everyone within a hundred yards was wearing Sales Force gear. They were all on the same team. Carrie was alone in a sea of fluorescent green and lightning bolts.

“But why?” Carrie asked. “You know what they did. You know what they’re doing. Why would you want to be a part of that?”

Brianna’s tough-girl mask seemed to slip. “I dunno,” she said, looking away.

“You saw what happened to Ryan. You like Ryan. Why would you be okay with that?”

“It feels better than being left out,” she said quietly.

“What? You’d rather have someone order you around? That’s better?”