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It was an ambitious plan, Neal would admit it, but he could do it.
It had been October when Neal had made Spencer identify eleven people from Neal’s sophomore yearbook. Eleven people that thought it would be funny to trick a twelve-year-old and tie him naked to a flagpole. Eleven people that Neal sought revenge on.
The plan was simple in its base idea: preventing the eleven people from getting into college. Executing the plan was much more challenging. Neal needed to figure out where each student lived, how many schools they applied to and which ones, and the applications timelines for each of the colleges.
He had three things going in his favor:
- All Eleven people were seniors, he could get revenge in one fell swoop with less chance of someone finding out if he had to wait a year
- It was currently November, there was more than plenty of time to enact the plan before acceptance letters went out
- The mailman was weird and delivered the mail for the entire set of suburbs that made up the school district in the middle of the night.
Neal could have hugged the weird mailman because number three meant that Neal could go out early and check mailboxes before anyone was awake.
It took five weeks of nonstop work and one essay he didn’t do and had to ask for an extension for, but Neal had a list of colleges for each of the eleven people.
First, he broke into the files in the front office and tracked down addresses. It was less than a dollar to buy a cheap paper map and flag each address, outlining a mail route for himself for the final step of the plan.
Next, he called parents and siblings, posing as a student taking statistical information on college applications for the school’s front office. He had talked to friends of their friends that may have known what schools they were applying for but wouldn’t rat him out for asking around. He broke into their lockers during the day to see if there were any clues as to colleges they had applied to.
The compiled list of individual college applications was forty-two long, though ten of them were to Las Vegas University.
The next step was to find out what a rejection letter looked like. As a junior, Neal had obviously not applied to any colleges yet and he liked to believe that he would not receive a rejection letter once he had applied.
The Weston’s kid—a boy that Neal had lived next to for years—had gone off to college the past year and Neal remembered his mother telling Neal’s mother that he had been rejected from a few.
All it took was Neal’s wide eyes and a flimsy story about looking into colleges himself and Mrs. Weston handed over the stack of papers they had shoved in a box the previous year. Sitting down at the bottom were two rejection letters. Jackpot.
Neal examined them closely. They were printed on slightly better paper than he had in the printer at home, but nothing overly fancy that he couldn’t get from the print shop. Each one had the emblem of the college in the upper corner and they both said basically the same message.
All Neal had to do was draft up a template for each of the colleges on the computer at the library, look up return addresses for the applications offices, and then get the letters printed, put into envelopes, and label them for their intended recipients.
Spencer knew he was up to something. Neal could see it in the kid’s eyes as they ate lunch together.
They weren’t friends exactly; more like Spencer tolerated Neal. Neal was never mean to the genius that was four years his junior, but the kid didn’t have anyone else and trusted Neal more than any other student. This trust manifested as Spencer eating lunch in the library where Neal had an independent study over the lunch period.
Neal attempted to reassure Spencer that the reason he was being secretive was a good one. “They’re getting what they deserve.”
Spencer eventually accepted that answer, but Neal knew he would be wary until he realized exactly what had been put into motion.
December and January passed with little progress. Once February and March came, Neal slowly developed bags under his eyes. He woke up before dawn to follow after the mail truck and check eleven mailboxes for acceptance letters. He wore a backpack with his created letters carefully placed inside so the corners wouldn’t bend too much. No need to get the mailman yelled at for damaged mail.
One by one, he placed the letters into the right mailboxes and observed the fallout during the school day. The original group had been comprised of football players and cheerleaders. Now that it was spring, they were split between the baseball, softball, and lacrosse teams.
Neal felt a thrill of vengeance when the baseball team, that had been going undefeated, lost two games in a row and the two girls on the softball team had missed a day of school right after getting their last rejection letter.
Spencer cornered him at the beginning of April. “None of them will go to college this year.” He stated. He had a way of being both concise and blunt when he wasn’t talking on a specific subject. “How did you do it? I know no one knows about what they did.”
Neal looked up from the sandwich he was eating. “That’s incorrect. I know what they did.”
Spencer’s small eyes hardened as he attempted to glare at Neal. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
Neal sighed and put the sandwich down on top of its plastic bag. “They’re not real letters. I made them and then took the other letters.”
“Mail theft is a felony.” Spencer told him flatly.
“What they did to you was a felony.” Neal shot back, once again picking up his sandwich.
Spencer rocked back and forth on his feet for a moment. “Thank you, Danny.” He whispered.
“You’re welcome, Spencer.”
Morgan and Spencer stayed to watch one of the speakers from the white-collar department. Morgan didn’t know why Spencer was so adamant that they see those specific speakers, but the talk the two gave on criminal informants was interesting at the very least.
Once the speech-giving ended Morgan was shocked to find himself being dragged up to the front to meet the two men. “Reid, what the hell?”
Spencer didn’t answer him, but they had weaved their way through the crowd and now stood a few feet from the two presenters, who stopped them and turned to greet them.
“Hello.” The older one greeted amicably.
The CI blinked at Spencer, recognition flashing across his face. “Spencer.” He smiled widely.
Spencer returned the smile openly and Morgan shot a surprised look at his friend. “You know him? Is that why we stayed for their presentation?”
“Yes. Neal and I haven’t seen each other in years.” Spencer explained. He took a moment to truly observe everything that was different from the teenager that he had known. Neal was attractive. Not just the cute he had been in high school, when Spencer was both too young for him and hadn’t even known he liked guys.
“Wait a minute, how do you know an FBI agent?” Peter asked his CI incredulously. If they hadn’t seen each other in years, then Neal had to have known him before being arrested the first time.
Neal smirked. “Well, he wasn’t an FBI agent when I knew him. I can’t believe I almost didn’t recognize him; he looks exactly the same.”
Spencer narrowed his eyes playfully. “It’s good to see some things never change, like your terrible sense of humor.” He shot back.
Morgan looked back and forth between the two before addressing Agent Burke. “Are you as confused as I am?”
“Yes, but that’s par for the course when dealing with Neal. Though I’ll admit old friends with an FBI agent is more than one step up from shady criminal friends.” Peter informed the other agent before interrupting Neal and Spencer. “Would you care to share how you two know each other?” He asked Neal.
Neal visibly contemplated for a moment before answering Peter. He hadn’t planned on ever telling Peter about his past, but he couldn’t lie with Spencer standing in front of him and he didn’t want to force his oldest friend to lie for him. When it came to things regarding Spencer, Neal found telling the truth easier than he expected. “Spencer and I went to high school together.”
Peter blanched. “What high school?”
Morgan raised an eyebrow at Peter’s shock and Neal filled him in, not answering his handler. “Peter has been searching for information about my childhood for almost a decade.”
Morgan raised the other eyebrow.
“That’s because no records of Neal Caffrey exist before his eighteenth birthday.” Peter argued.
Spencer snorted and glanced at Neal, who gave him a tiny nod and a flicker of a smile. “That’s because he wasn’t Neal Caffrey then.” Spencer informed the older agent, taking the silent permission to share.
Neal smiled enigmatically and calmly told Spencer, “You, shush.”
Spencer grinned at Peter’s eyes bulging. “Sorry Agent Burke, I am legally not allowed to say anymore.”
“What does that even mean?” Peter pleaded for answers.
Morgan sighed. How did his best friend manage to drag him into this?
The three agents and the CI sat down in a booth at the small diner, Spencer and Neal on one side and Morgan and Peter on the other.
“Would you please just tell me whatever it is you are dancing around telling me?” Peter asked Neal.
Neal smiled softly, he had kept this secret for a long time, but he knew he could trust the three men with him. What had his life become where he could trust not only one, but two federal agents and a third solely by association?
“You can’t go digging, Peter.” Neal said, making eye contact to impress his seriousness. “I grew up in WITSEC.”
Peter gaped, opening and closing his mouth without any sound coming out. “What?” He said, dumbfounded.
Spencer nodded along with the statement as Neal elaborated. “The reason you could never find anything from my childhood is because the US Marshalls hid it. I left the program at eighteen and changed my name to my birth name and my mother’s maiden name.”
As Peter reevaluated everything he had ever known about his friend, Morgan placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward to begin questioning Neal. “You two have said you were friends in high school, but Reid didn’t have any friends in high school.”
“Neal was the only tolerable one.” Spencer told him.
Neal scoffed. “Tolerable, he says. I was your best friend and you know it.”
“I only liked you because you were my access to books.” Spencer countered.
Neal pointed a finger at the younger man. “Don’t you disrespect my library.”
Spencer rolled his eyes, then grew serious while looking at Neal. “You were a good friend.” He said softly, the words heavy with meaning.
Morgan and Peter were both staring at them, trying to figure out whatever was happening.
Spencer glanced at Neal again and tilted his head towards their coworkers in a silent ask to share. Neal shrugged; Spencer could share if he wanted to.
Spencer focused on Morgan. “Do you remember what I shared about my high school experiences?”
Morgan looked wary but answered in the affirmative. “Yeah, you graduated at twelve and were bullied and terrorized by some football players and cheerleaders.”
Spencer nodded. “You made a comment about finding them and I told you not to worry about it because—”
“Because they got what they deserved. Yeah I remember.” Morgan said.
Spencer smiled wryly. “What they deserved was Neal Caffrey: Teenage Vengeance.”
“Please never call me that again.” Neal requested.
“What in the hell did you do?” Peter seemed more confused than worried and Neal counted that as a win.
Neal pressed his lips together. “I made sure they wouldn’t get into college that year.” At Peter’s alarmed look, Neal sighed and gave him a straight answer. “I forged college rejection letters for every college each of them applied to and switched them out for the real ones.”
Morgan made an impressed face. “That’s actually—”
“Still highly illegal.” Peter interjected.
Neal shrugged. “It is much less illegal than some of the things I’ve been accused of. Besides, had they had any formal punishment, they would likely have had their acceptance letters rescinded anyways, it was what they deserved.”
Spencer pushed his shoulder into Neal’s as a show of gratitude.
Peter faltered for a brief moment before asking Spencer the question that only he didn’t have the answer to. “Can I ask—what exactly did they do to you?”
Spencer frowned bitterly but answered the other agent. “They tricked me into going out behind the football field and then stripped me and tied me to a goalpost. I was twelve at the time.”
Peter looked horrified. “I can see why Teenage Vengeance was needed.” He ceded.
Neal frowned. “Please stop calling me that.”
Neal’s displeasure brought a smile back to Spencer’s face. “But it fits so well.” The younger man teased.
The CI was pretty sure that Spencer had been sort of flirting with him the entire afternoon. Neal responded by knocking Spencer’s shoulder with his own and Spencer grinned.
The smile made Neal pause and say something stupid. “So how long are you two in town for?”
Spencer narrowed his eyes, flicking them over Neal’s face trying to determine if he was actually hearing a flirtatious tone or if he was projecting onto Neal. “Long enough for dinner.” He told Neal boldly.
Neal grinned as Peter groaned in exasperation. “Then it’s a date.” The conman exclaimed excitedly.
“What just happened?” Morgan asked in confusion.
“Neal Caffrey: Shameless Flirt.” Peter said.
“Now that’s a title I won’t say no to.” Neal looked at Spencer and winked.