"What?" Bex asked, proving that she knew me maybe better than I knew myself.
"He …" I struggled with what I wanted to say, what I wanted to believe. "He didn't kiss me."
Yes, I'd just been severely reprimanded by a member of the United States Secret Service. And yes, I'd been caught sneaking out and violating about a dozen school rules. And yes, my elbow was totally swollen from where Zach and I had landed on the floor of Macey's compartment.
And yet that was the thing that worried me most.
"He didn't flirt," I said finally. "He didn't tease me … I mean, once I figured out I'd seen him in Boston—"
"Wait," Bex said, moving closer, completely ignoring the big pile of junk food that she and Liz had smuggled back into the school after their road trip home. There was something new in her eyes as she said, "Zach was in Boston?"
"I kept thinking I saw him there," I said again, calmer now. "But I thought that I was…you know …"
Bex and Liz looked at each other as if they totally didn't know.
"She thought she was only seeing him because she wanted to see him," Macey explained.
"Ooooh," Bex and Liz sighed together.
"It's a by-product of very dramatic kissing," Macey went on like a doctor identifying a common side effect. "Go on."
"So I didn't think anything about it. But today I saw him again. And he was in the same disguise, and I knew it was him in Boston." I looked down at the pile of candy wrappers and half-eaten bags of chips and thought about how, a year ago, we'd huddled together in that very room, going through Josh's trash, but there was a lot about boys and their dirty little secrets that we still had to learn.
"So he followed you before?" Liz asked. "So what? He's probably just doing what we're doing—tracking Macey."
And then she stopped. And realized.
"In Boston, there was no reason to track Macey," I said, just because I needed to say the words out loud. I looked back at the grounds that seemed darker than usual. And colder. Somehow when I wasn't looking, fall had fallen, and I shivered a little, still chilled from the rain.
"Maybe he knew what was going to happen," Macey
said.
"Or maybe he was one of the people doing it," Bex said, the old skepticism coming back to her voice.
"Or"—Liz's eyes were the only ones shining as she said—"he wanted to be near Cammie!"
Macey shrugged as if to say that our little blond friend had a point.
Whatever the case, that didn't change the fact that a very cute, very mysterious spy boy was either out to save us, or kidnap us, or date us.
And I wasn't sure which one we were best equipped to handle.
I don't know about normal girls, but for spy girls, there are few things as scary as a closed door, a locked room, and a whispered conversation you can't quite hear. Well, the next day my life was full of all three.
The Hall of History remained dark. My mother's office doors remained closed (and, unfortunately, soundproof). I thought about the passageway that led behind the room, but then I shook the notion from my head. I didn't know what my aunt had told her. I didn't know what kind of trouble I was in.
All around me girls worried about tests and projects. People opened letters from home and continued the debate about whether or not Mr. Smith's new face made him as hot as Mr. Solomon. But I couldn't help but think about how the world is just a web of secrets. I kept wondering if there was any way to break free.
That Sunday night I walked toward my mother's office, thinking about Abby and Zach, Philadelphia and Boston— all the questions no one ever answered, but as I stepped foot inside the Hall of History, I found myself looking at Gilly's sword.
I heard myself whisper, "Someone knows."
As I knocked on the door to my mother's office, I knew it wasn't going to be an ordinary Sunday night supper…
Because Macey was already there.
I looked from my mother, to my roommate, and finally to my aunt. I expected yelling. But when my mother whispered, "Cammie," it was worse. Way worse. The door closed behind me, and I saw Mr. Solomon standing there. I didn't know what to expect anymore.
"Mom, I—"
"I was told that Liz and Bex were out testing a prototype of a new piece of equipment for Dr. Fibs during your little…mission last night?" Mom asked.
Her eyes seemed to be warning me not to argue. "Yes," I quickly answered.
"Very well."
For a second I thought that might be all of it, but of course the lecture wasn't over. "Cameron, I trusted you to believe me when I said that Macey's safety was no longer your concern."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I trusted you to know that security protocol is not something that should be interfered with on a whim."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I trusted you, Cammie." My mother's voice was softer then, so that was the hardest part to hear.
"I received a call from Bex's mother last night," Mom continued, and I braced for the wrath of two spy moms scorned. "The Baxters would like for you to spend winter break in London—"
"Really?" I asked in surprise.
"And if I hear," Mom spoke over me. "If I see … If I even suspect that you have been out of these grounds again without permission, then that will not happen. Am I making myself clear?"