Crazy

DUEX

It just so happens that when the mayor of the town your school is located in wants to visit, your headmaster and dean have no choice but to let him and his guests into the walls into your school, even if his guests are his personal camera crew. For what reason the mayor of suburban Somerville, Massachusetts I could never wrap my head around, but none of us opened our mouths to ask the questions burning on our minds. Really, the mayor visiting a normal school or mental institute may be just fine, fun even, but when you go to a spy school, where the students learn how to kill a man with a dollar store necklace and gum, spend their spare time learning advanced languages, and can build and disarm bombs in 2 minutes flat (my personal record, thank you very much), a visit from your mayor with an absence of a clearance level can cause some stress to say the least. My stomach twisted at the thought of my classmates and I's faces being broadcasted in his political ads in the area, our covers blown and our chances to ever truly work in the field crumbling under our fingers. What was the headmaster thinking?

As I made my way to the lobby where I had been directed to sit on a couch and work on ninth grade algebra (an insult to my intelligence really) and smile when need be, Saul breezed past me on the stairs, slowing down only momentarily to throw me a taunting smirk and pick a stray leaf out of my hair. "Heard you choked up real bad in class today, couldn't even get the journal from the kid. This time last year I was top of my class and you're what? Still failing assignments?" He scoffed as I felt the heat of anger and embarrassment rush to my face. "Pathetic." How had the rumor mill already started up? I flipped him the bird too late, his back already to me as he leapt down the rest of the stairs and disappeared around the corner.

Here's the thing about Saul Nguyen. He's good and he knows it, but he's also insecure and hates that fact that I know it. He reeks of it. There were maybe five people in the entire student body that could outrank Saul and I had no doubt the thought of not filling daddy's huge shoes of being deputy director of the CIA kept him up at night. Who was Saul Nguyen or even the majority of the students at Blair Woods if not credible and famed government agents of the future like their parents were? The pressure they felt was etched all over their features, this life of espionage and government servitude was all they knew. Meanwhile the rest of us had been recruited from normal homes from which our parents had shipped us off thinking that Blair Wood was the only hope for us to be rehabilitated and become sane again. I'd heard the stories though, some agents graduated and went out into the field, coming back with stories that haunted me. Maybe, some of us were never meant to be sane.

After a beat passed, I stepped into the lobby, sidestepping girls who were running around trying to hide textbooks and weaponry that would be a red flag for the mayor and boys thumb wrestling on the floor, to watch Saul walk right up to Headmaster Conroy, smiling and laughing like they were old buddies. His muscles pressed against the cloth material of his shirt he had ordered a size too small in as he shook Conroy's hand, raising his voice just enough that several heads in the hall turned in his direction. God, he was just eating this up. My face shriveled up in disgust, and maybe a little bit of jealousy before I turned away, squeezing myself in between Ace and Emery on the couch. I glanced at the bright green grass stains on Emery's clothes and had to stifle a laugh. "How was yoga?" Beside me, Ace snickered and turned away, pretending to cough.

Emery turned a stony gaze in my direction and examined my appearance before landing on the bird nest that had once been my hair. She, like Saul had just done moments ago, plucked something from it and held it in front of my face. "How was your lonely trek back here after you failed your assignment?"

I sucked my teeth and gave her a tight smile. "You shoot to kill, huh?"

"Just like they taught us." She made a fake gun with her fingers and pressed it to my temple before imitating it going off. Pshooh. "Cross me and you're dead."