For as long as I can remember, I've been known as the calm one in my family. My teachers were forever saying that I took the time to think things through, and every year I got that silly award for the highest grade. My brother was always mad about that; he figured since we were twins, we should share the award. HA. No way.

Anyway, despite supposedly being calm, when my mom told me that I wasn't going back to Kingston High in January, but I was transferring to some private school called the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women, and during the spring semester they were doing an exchange with the Blackthorne Institute for Boys, my reaction was a very loud and very high—pitched scream. It would have been okay with me, except for one little problem.

That's where my brother goes to school.

So after my parents managed to calm me down, they explained that I really didn't have a choice. I couldn't stay in the public school system any longer; it just wasn't safe. With both my parents as spies, and Zach attending a spy school, I was considered a weak link, and that had to change. I hadn't thought about it that way, but it made sense. Zach was learning way more than I was, but every time he came home from boarding school, I had him help me catch up a little. Because of this, my parents and the Gallagher Academy Headmistress felt that I would be able to get caught up by senior year.

They also let me know that I wouldn't be going to the Gallagher Academy first; I'd go directly to Blackthorne with my brother. I'd be the only girl there for about a week, and then the rest of the girls would show up. This in mind, I made sure to pack a separate bag with books, paper, and other things to keep me busy. At the last minute (well, about ten minutes before we left), I found a bunch of plain t-shirts of all colors that I had gotten over the break. With them was all kinds craft material, such as fabric paint, bright colored bandanas, fancy material, fabric glue, spray glitter, and other little things. I threw everything in the duffle bag that my friends had decorated for me as a going away present, and added it to my pile of luggage. I already had four hand-decorated t-shirts, but I couldn't really wear them. For starters, Gallagher girls wore uniforms, (although I would end up changing out of them, as my mom pointed out). Also, the t-shirts were made for my old school. One had a "K" on it, one had an "S", one had a "2", and one had and exclamation point. (At pep rallies and games, I had been part of either "Kingston", "sophomores", our graduating year, or the end of "Kingston High Sophomores!"

Needless to say, I'd need to make new shirts.

***

I guess I was so consumed with the thought of new t-shirts, or I really am as scatterbrained as Zach says, but either way, I had to run back into the house three times to get stuff I'd forgotten. Each time, Zach would laugh, and point out that he hadn't forgotten anything. How hard could it be, he kept asking, to pack up everything in your room except stuff like your bed, dresser, those huge collages on your wall, and a couple of outfits that you don't really like? Each time, I pointed out that I had never done this before, so I didn't know what I'd need. (The things I had forgotten were my sunglasses, an umbrella, and my watch. Zach made sure to point out that I wouldn't need a watch, since I had a cell phone, but Mom countered that I probably wouldn't use it much, since both schools were so well protected that the signal was blocked. I pretended to hyperventilate at this, and my parents and Zach cracked up.)

Finally we left. I nearly had a heart attack when I thought I had forgotten my camera, but it was in the bag with the t-shirts. As I settled into the backseat with my iPod in my ears and my cell phone in my lap, I thought about my now old school, friends, neighbors, bedroom, and about my now new school, friends, room, teachers, and how weird it would feel to go to the same school as my brother again. I thought about the girl Zach had mentioned on one of his recent visits home. Part of me was excited, and the other part was terrified. I hadn't been the new kid since sixth grade, because the highschool was grades six through twelve. It had been nice knowing everyone. I wondered if things would be the same.

I actually didn't know that our parents were spies until Blackthorne sent us a letter, saying that Zach was accepted. I didn't even know they had applied to Blackthorne. And I never before questioned why I didn't go to Gallagher. Now I started to. It was wierd, but I didn't want to ask my parents. I'd never been afraid to ask them anything else. Somehow, this was different. I reached into my bag and pulled out the manilla envelope that held the information about my new school. I leafed through it until I found what I was looking for.

TO: VALERIE JANE GOODE

SUBJECT: WELCOME TO SPY SCHOOL

Hi,

I'm Cammie Morgan. My mom's the headmistress. She really doesn't know I'm writing this, or saving it to be printed with every new student package. Somehow, I think that if she finds out, she'll leave it. Anyway, I've been here a while, and I know what goes on here. EDITED TO ADD: Normally I would say don't worry about makeup, but well, we've had a few encounters with going to town and exchange trips, so bring makeup if you don't want to be seen without it. Boys aren't a big deal here, except lately. Be sure to know something about foreign languages before you get here, or you'll be way lost. Newbies, use your alone time in the mansion to learn foreign languages, organize your school stuff, and learn your way around the place. DON'T touch the sword, it can be painful. And if you're one of the few that are new but not in seventh grade, good luck catching up. Really, I mean good luck. Not sarcastically. Don't get on the bad side of people, and don't think you're way cool when you're not.

Need more advice? Just look for me. If you can find me, I'll give you advice. If not, you need practice.

Cammie

I had read that letter about fifty times, trying to find a secret that wasn't typed. I think I was staring at it when I fell asleep.

(A/N: Ohh, kay. I added some stuff to this chapter because, well, people were reading it only and then stopping. So I figured, hey, if I make this chappie better (And longer) maybe people will keep going. So I'm trying that. And by the way, I don't do disclaimers. I didn't come up with the Gallagher Girls, although it'd be great if I did. However, Valerie Goode, is mine. The rest will hopefully be longer. The end, thank you.)