Simon
Simon trudged home, thinking about all that Wilhelm had said. It wasn't that the plan was bad, per se. It was just so not up his alley. Simon didn't want to confide in everyone at the school. There were at least 90 kids there, and he might have the cell phone numbers of 7 of them. And maybe they could do it in groups of 3 or 4, but not in groups of 10. That'd kind of kill the point in the first place. And then, people were going to start talking about how they had this weird conversation with him and Wilhelm before they got to everyone. It was going to be a logistical nightmare.
When he walked into his house and wiped the snow off his boots, he saw his mom in the kitchen with a big pot of oil in front of her.
"Hola, mamá. Qué estás preparando?" he asked, looking at the flurry of ingredients around her.
"Buñuelos, mi amor," she replied as she scooped the little ball-shaped fritters out of the oil. "Quieres uno?"
He shot into the kitchen. Buñuelos were his favorite. A little bit of cinnamon-sugar, and bam. The perfect snack.
As he grabbed one (or three) buñuelos off the paper towel- lined plate, he sat on the barstools overlooking the kitchen. He took a bite. "These are great, Mom. What's the occasion?"
She popped one in her mouth as she spooned a few more out of the hot grease. "No occasion. I was just doing some grunge work in the hospital today, saw the snow, and decided today was a good day for buñuelos." She smiled as she watched Simon stuff another ball in his mouth.
"Well, thanks. Definitely saved the day a little bit."
She eyed him curiously, "Not the best day? What happened, mi amor?"
He glanced at her wearily between bites. "You promise you won't laugh?"
"Never," she said, forming a few more for the fryer. "I would never laugh at my primerizo." She gave him a sweet grin that he struggled to believe.
He rolled his eyes. "Ok. Remember, you promised." He paused. "I'm back together with Wille."
He saw her brows furrow and she cleared her throat unconciously, even as she tried to look like she was too busy watching the simmer of the hot oil.
"You said you wouldn't react, Mom!" he cried.
"No, you said 'Don't laugh'. I'm still in the clear. So, what happened today?"
He shoulder sagged as he recounted what Wilhelm wanted them to do.
His mom eyed him, pausing as if she were trying to choose exactly the right words. "And how do you feel about doing that?"
"Well, not great, to be honest. I dunno, it's not that I'm this super private person, but this is like the absolute other end of the spectrum, you know? I just don't think everyone should be that privy to the details of our relationship. You know what I mean?"
Linda pursed her lips slightly, "No, you're right. You shouldn't have to, but--" she paused, again choosing her words carefully. "There's something to it. You've decided to date a public figure and, like it or not, that comes with very particular challenges. It seems like he's put a lot of work into finding a way to give you and him the most protection possible. And, let's get real, that guy isn't just the paragon of sociability, either." His mom smirked.
And she was right, Simon realized. If Simon liked his privacy, Wilhelm really liked his privacy. He didn't have more than 25 followers on his Instagram, and even with that, he only had like 3 posts total. He didn't have a lot of friends, and he mostly stuck with people he'd known for most of his life. He doubted more than five people had ever even seen the inside of his dorm room.
This had got to be the least appealing option for Wilhelm, as well. At least Simon knew people's names. If Wilhelm knew the names of 30 students in the entire school, it would actually shock him. Simon talked to people between classes and in the choir. Wilhelm just listened to music or read a book when there was any down time. Sometimes Felice could get him out of his shell, but just barely.
"Yeah, you're right," Simon said, finally answering his mother's snarky, but fair, comment. "I guess if he's up for it, I should just suck it up, shouldn't I?"
His mom gave him a pointed look. "That, m'hijo, depends on how much it's worth it to you," she said, coming to sit on the barstool beside him with the full platter of buñuelos and two cups of hot chocolate. "How much he's worth it to you. You're not wrong, it's not a great option, but it does seem like the best option, given a lot of really terrible ones," she consented as she dunked her doughnut in the steaming chocolate.
Simon took his hot chocolate and sipped off the foam on the top. He looked at his mom, smirking slightly. "This was not the answer I was looking for, you know that?"
She grinned at him. "I know." She tousled his hair slightly. "That's what moms are for- giving you the real deal even when we know you won't like it."
Simon smiled as he hopped off the barstool, carrying his hot cocoa to his bedroom. "Gracias, mamá."
"You're welcome, cariño. Now get some sleep. Seems like you've got a serious conversation coming up tomorrow."
Grinning, he rolled his eyes at her. "Don't remind me."
--
Simon smiled as he neared the rowing shed. He saw Wilhelm leaning on a bare tree in conversation with Felice.
"Hey!" he called as he approached the two.
Wilhelm came up to him and gave him a light peck on the lips. Simon reeled in shock. Wilhelm had never kissed him in front of anyone before. Simon saw Wilhelm's cheeks turn a pale pink as Simon gazed up at him incredulously. "Um, you don't mind that I invited Felice, right? I thought she could help, but - "
Simon cut him off. "It's fine, Wilhelm. It was a good idea." He smiled up at Wilhelm's flustered visage. He snuck a quick glance at Felice, who was doing her absolute best to look absolutely uninterested in the whole deal.
Honestly, it was a good idea. Felice was the queen of this social sphere. She knew the ins and outs of all of the different friend groups, and she was tight with almost everybody. If anyone could make a game plan, it was her.
They quickly walked over to the clubhouse. Felice was much less impressed by the structure than Simon was. She walked directly to the door and put the key Wilhelm had handed her into the lock.
Once they entered the large, wooden room and had a seat - Felice on the armchair and Simon and Wilhelm leaning lightly on each other on the couch - Wilhelm initiated the conversation.
"Yeah, so, I was talking to Felice about what we were thinking about, um, if you are cool with it?" Wilhelm gave him a worried look.
Simon smiled at Wilhelm affirmatively and shrugged. "I thought about it. It definitely sounds like the worst possible way to spend a day, but I can't think of a better option."
Wilhelm's eyes lit up. "Seriously? Cool. So, yeah, Felice had some thoughts."
Felice took out her notebook from the satchel she had been carrying. She opened up to a page with a list of literally every student in the school, categorized by social groups, and then subcategorized by status within each group. And it was color-coded for ease-of-reading. Simon's eyes glazed over the intricacy of the list. There were even lines to make up for crossovers between social circles, as well as people who were nominally affiliated with different groups. It was truly a sight to behold.
Simon had to hand it to Wilhelm. He knew how to hire a heavy hitter. Felice was not playing around.
Felice launched into her spiel. "Okay, so as you can see, there are 12 main friend groups at Hillerska, from what I gather from whatsapp groups and how people sit at meals. I've designated one person in each group as the "group leader". I'm not saying this person is the most popular person, or the one who plans things. It's just the person whose voice has the most sway. It's the person who the rest of the friend group will defer to the most, and who will also respect your message the most. If that person says something, everyone else will go along with it. That's the person we want. That's our target.
"So, here's my plan. We can knock this whole thing out in 4 meetings. We do this on a Sunday when no one has anything to do anyways. Everyone will be here, and everyone will be looking for a way to escape their homework. We're going to use the little room off of the cafeteria, so that we can serve some cookies, hot beverages. You know, butter them up. We can do one meeting at 10am, 10:45am, 11:30pm, 12:15pm, and done. We can ask them to not tell anyone until after lunch at 1:00. Of course, some will, but hopefully that will keep the chatter down enough that the next people we invite won't have heard about it.
Felice continued, not stopping for questions even as Simon raised his hand like he was in Math class. "Then, at lunch, they'll talk to their groups about the whole deal, and there you go, everyone will have either heard the message from you or from someone who they respect more than you. It's a win-win."
Felice smiled as she finished her speech. Wilhelm and Simon grinned and clapped, and Felice took a little bow from her chair.
Simon spoke first. "Felice, this is ridiculously good. Seriously. But, how are we going to get them to come?"
Felice grinned. "They're getting an invitation from the Crown Prince for special snacks from the Palace. They'll come."
"From the Palace?" Wilhelm yelped.
Felice rolled her eyes. "No, we're going to buy them at the grocery store and warm them up. But they're not going to know that," she answered slyly.
"But, won't they all brag about their invitation and ruin the effect?" asked Simon.
"Oh, we're only giving them a 10-minute warning to show up. The most they'll have time to tell is their roommate. I think you underestimate the level of boredom and procrastination going on on a Sunday morning in the dorms, Simon. They'll be there."
Wilhelm nodded his head as he thought threw the logistics. "It seems like you've thought of everything, Felice. But, how are we going to get to use the cafeteria lounge room? Isn't it usually locked on the weekends?"
Felice smiled coyly. "It is, unless you happen to have the key. The student dorm leaders each have one, and Ingrid said she'd lend it to me as long as I didn't ransack the place. No one goes into that area of the school on the weekends anyways. It's the perfect spot."
Wilhelm looked at Simon. "She's literally thought of everything."
"And you'll be there?" Simon asked.
"I mean, if you want me to be. I can maybe sit in as a participant and feed questions. I wasn't planning on it, but--"
"YES!" the boys answered in unison.
That was the answer, Simon thought. If Felice was there to moderate the conversation, then she could steer it back if it got out of hand. Simon felt a wave of relief. Now they wouldn't be responsible for getting people out of left field if they took the conversation too far.
Wilhelm looked at the list of people, nodding in approval as his eyes glanced through each of the lists. When he finally looked up he asked, "So...what are we supposed to say?"
Felice looked at each of the boys and said pointedly. "What do you want to say?"
Wilhelm looked down, deep in thought. "Maybe that we're dating, and we need their help keeping it away from the press?"
Felice rolled her eyes. "You have literally never been in a debate in your life, have you, Wille? Come on. You have to get them on your side, make it personal. To start, give them the news. They'll be dying for it. And then explain why you 'hand-selected' them to talk to about this, basically because you respect them as people. People love to be told that they're respected. Don't tell them about the list. That would make the plan seem as devious as it is. It needs to look unplanned.
"Then, talk about how the media has fucked up people's lives. Give them the chance to tell stories about people who have had the media meddle in their private lives and messed stuff up for them. Everybody will have a personal story, or at least someone they know. Then, spend a lot of time criticizing gossip magazines and standing up the Mass Media with a capital M. Talk about how it's not right that you guys can't just be a normal relationship. Present yourself as underdogs. Dish out the whole fairness thing hard. People love to support the victim. And there you have it."
When Felice finished, there was a palpable silence emanating throughout the room. No one spoke, but Simon and Wilhelm looked at Felice quizzically.
Simon finally broke the silence. "You think we can do that? What do you think we are, heads-of-state?"
Felice flashed a grin. "Well, one of you is on his way to being just that, and the other might end up being one if he plays his cards right, so better rip the band-aid off now."
The boys looked at each other in horror. The wave of relief that had washed over Simon just a few minutes before was gone. Felice was trying to get them to basically coerce a group of privileged teenagers into not narc-ing on them through the use of their nearly non-existent debating skills.
Felice waved a hand at them. "You'll be fine. We'll practice with Madison and Stella. If you can get past the two of them, everyone else will be nothing."
Simon definitely didn't have the same level of confidence in his oracy skills as Felice did, but it was the best plan they had. At least Felice was prepared...