Even if my eyes weren’t covered, I could tell that my silence was giving me away. “Oh, yeah. I’m just hoping Joze is recovering from having a Cheez-It stuck in her shirt, and you-” I was addressing Kayla, “have stopped hyperventilating from the Cheez-It being wasted.” This was a simple tactic: redirecting the conversation back to them- and not to me.
Fortunately, this worked. They started to laugh and go on with another energetic conversation that I didn’t entirely try to tune out. To not make them entirely suspicious, I chimed in every now and then. But for the rest of the afternoon I tried to concentrate on- at least- pretending to have fun and laugh as we go from store to store and try on random things. It was a challenge to not think of ‘Jake’ and ‘Matt’, but I managed to think about them for limited amounts of time.
My mind was struggling to forget their faces; to just move on with life and pretend nothing of that sort happened... but it did. And because I’m a spy-in-training, I will never forget those two faces as long as I live.
* * * *
And, as this is a report, I have to mention everything. Every detail, every feeling, every movement (that’s relevant, of course). So, even though I don’t really want to admit this, I have to anyway: I hate being good at honeypot. I don’t like it at all.
For one, I make up half what I’m doing the whole time- of course, improvisation is good, and is what spies lean on a lot- and pretty I much don’t know anything about boys. I haven’t been in a real relationship with one (how could I???), I haven’t got a clue what makes them tick, I don’t even know if they like me or not. All I know is that whatever I do works. Call it whatever you want- talent, good training, spy instincts, whatever- but I call it sheer luck! It was luck that I convinced those guys to give me their credit card numbers (I was on a dare, okay?), and it was luck that I got those boys’ attention today. Like I said before, I don’t really like to do that to guys. I just feel like I’m using them... but isn’t that what a spy has to do? Use people until they get what they need from them, then move on? Yeah, that is. And that’s the sort of thing that keeps me pushing to do the best I can do in the art of honeypot. But just for the record, pretty much everything I think when I honeypot a boy is: how can this A) make him like me more? B) benefit me in any way? C) Get me more information. I know I sound really shallow and everything, but I’m a spy, not a regular teenage girl that has time to think about the people she is using. If I start to actually care about the people I use, well let’s just say that’s a spy’s worst nightmare. So, when that kind of situation comes around, I forget who I am and put on my cover that I only put on by luck.
* * * *
The rest of the afternoon went by in a breeze; us four finished shopping (which I don’t really like doing- in fact, I despise shopping. Every time I enter a store I’m not in the best mood. But hey, what are you going to do when your friends love shopping? Nothing, that’s what you do.) and headed back to the academy. I’m not sure when Shea and the rest of the Juniors went back, but they did sometime after we left. We all finished unpacking after our small trip to Roseville, and even got to watch a few episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer before dinner. So just a few minutes before heading to the Grand Hall, we changed into our uniforms- in my case a stained uniform- then headed to dinner.
Of course, I wasn’t too hungry, because I was snacking on Cheez-Its all afternoon (a very Kayla thing to do). Luckily, this time none went down anyone’s shirt- Jordan made sure of staying clear from me while I had them in my possession. However, no matter how stuffed I was, I would always make room for the food this academy has to offer; we have a chef that use to cook at the White House, and the simplest meal he would make would be a perfectly cooked steak, homemade mashed potatoes, green beans with almonds, and gravy that would make your mouth water from only one sniff of it. Yeah, and that’s a simple meal.
But we're all forced to wait until the teachers arrive to the Grand Hall and allow us to eat. “Hey, Kayla! Is it true that Mrs. Ferguson retired?” Shea asked plopping down into the seat next to Maddie.
“I don’t know. Shea-” I started sighing, Shea was convinced that I must know anything and everything that was going on because I lived here (for more than the regular school year, of course all of us lived here).
“Well we’ll know in a second won’t we?” Maddie cut in. Smiling, she nodded towards the door, we all strained our ears to hear the sound of our teachers footsteps. We couldn’t hear them, out of all the noise in the Grand Hall I doubt that any of us could’ve heard them.
Listening so intently, the action eventually grew to the entire hall where everyone was listening and not allowing themselves to breathe. Even the seniors were listening intently, trying to see if their trained ears would work in this situation. However, none showed any sign of recognition if they did hear anything.
Then we heard it; the small creek of the Grand Hall doors swinging open to reveal Aunt Macey- the headmistress of the Gallagher Academy- and a line of the other teachers. I don’t know how she did it, but Aunt Macey silently and gracefully walked toward the front of the Grand Hall where the professors sat. Following her, were several other teachers that were probably some of the best spies I know... then again, there could be some that I’ve met and didn’t even realize it, so I can’t even say that. I can just say that they’re all good... really good. Whether that’s in technology, disguises, or just kicking butt, they’re all good.
As the teachers took their seats at the front of the room, I couldn’t help but notice the empty chair... maybe the rumors of a new teacher were true. Maybe Ms. Ferguson decided that early retirement was what she wanted. Then again, it wasn’t really an early retirement. It was just retirement from the academy. Instead of teaching Covert Operations (we call it CoveOps), she would become a field agent for the CIA... probably. But, hey, maybe she did retire after all. And maybe this was good for us; we could actually have a non-boring teacher this year. I mean like, we did learn some things, but we didn’t learn very well with her very boring techniques- I heard that when my mom was at the academy, they actually went on field trips! Field trips!!! Only if we had a teacher that could teach us better than her, then we could really be on our way to field agent status- and not to mention field trips along with it!
Aunt Macey didn’t seem to notice the empty chair when she stood up to the podium even though we all knew she was perfectly aware. “Women of the Gallagher Academy, who comes here?” she asked.
Every girl in the room, even the newbies, stood up and said in unison, “We are the sisters of Gillian.”
Aunt Macey continued, “Why do you come here?”
“To learn her skills. Honor her sword. And keep her secrets,” we replied.
“To what end do you work?”
“To the cause of justice and light.”
“How long will you strive?”
“For all the days of our lives,” we finished. After all the years here at the academy, saying those words was like breathing- something that just came naturally.
We all sat in unison and whispers echoed throughout the hall, still wondering why the seat was empty. Aunt Macey- obviously- heard the whispering and demanded our attention up to the front again. “Ladies, first of all, I just want to give a warm welcome to the seventh grade students. Ladies, let’s give them a warm welcome.” We all applauded politely to the newbies as Aunt Macey continued. “As for the former students, welcome back! This semester holds many different adventures and even some different things than you ladies are use to.” Aunt Macey paused for a moment then continued, “As you have seen, Mrs. Ferguson is not here with us today. She has retired from her position as the Covert Operations teacher and is now going to oversee classes and be my personal assistant for this semester. Currently, she is out of the building, but will be back as the school year starts.”
Not even looking at the empty seat, Aunt Macey continued, “As for the Covert Operations teacher-”
A voice came out from where the empty chair- or what was the empty chair, “I believe I could introduce myself, Macey.” Many gasps came from some girls, whispers sounded throughout the room, and I even found myself having a hard time trying to compose my face. A man- probably around Aunt Macey’s age, so like mid to upper thirties- had filled the empty seat. He was now standing, but there was no mistake, he had entered the Grand Hall and sat down without any notice whatsoever. He was good, and I had no doubt that this would be our CoveOps teacher for the semester. Field trips here I come!
“Ooooooh he’s cute!” Shea giggled, straightening up.We all looked at him again and realized she was right.
“Okay for once, Shea, I don’t question your motives.” Sophie laughed. “Maddie?” said, waiting for Maddie’s opinion on the new teacher. “Maddie?” Sophie asked again, poking Maddie. Maddie smacked her finger way without looking down. Sophie looked and Maddie, and followed her gaze to the new teacher. “Maddie, I know he’s hot, but not that hot...” Sophie said quickly.
“My name is Andrew Taylor and I will be your Covert Operations teacher. The only reason I tell you my first name, is because I know all of you can either hack into to CIA yourself, or know someone who can, so you’ll find out anyway.” Mr. Taylor laughed, I literally felt all my sisters sigh. I realized his voice had made us all turn to him, I quickly turned back to Maddie, and saw, which made my heart stop, that her eyes were black. Blacker than the darkest night.
“Maddie.” I said, voice cracking. My voice, I realized, was almost a yell. Everyone in the hall turned to us. Maddie looked around quickly and instantly jumped out of her seat. As if a shock had hit her, she looked at Mr. Taylor for a moment, mouthed something, and ran as fast as she could out of the hall.
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