Author's Note: Hi everyone! This is my first story. I hope you like it :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The fabulous Ally Carter does.

Summary:Meg Phyle is tired of always being the New Girl. Her family moves every few years because of her dad's job. Meg knows the drill- another move, another house, another school. But now Meg has to go to the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women, and there she discovers that nothing is as it seems…

The New Girl

For as long as I can remember my family and I have moved every 2 or 3 years. You see, my dad works for the government, so he's always being transferred. Don't ask me what his actual job is though. I've asked him on several occasions and he always talks around the question and a few minutes later we're on a completely different subject. I don't mind moving all the time. The thing I hate is switching schools and being 'The New Girl'. My brother Chris doesn't have that problem though. He goes to the Blackthorne Institute for Boys.

I walked into the kitchen of our townehouse, and the smell of my dad's famous spaghetti overwhelmed me. Instantly my stomach twisted in knots. Now, don't get me wrong, my dad is an amazing cook, but he only makes his famous spaghetti for "special occasions". In other words, when he has big news; which usually involves us moving. I walked over to my dad at the stove and asked him, "What's for dinner?" As if I didn't know.

"Spaghetti." was his simple reply. I started getting out plates and set the table. A few minutes later Chris walked in and looked over at me with a look of regret. He knew it too. Then he started helping me set the table.

Finally we all sat down and started eating. About 5 minutes into our conversation Dad dropped the bomb. "I'm being transferred again." I could tell by the way he sounded that he really didn't want to have to move us again. I felt bad for him. I mean, it wasn't his fault he was being transferred.

After a few awkward moments of complete silence I piped up and asked the question, "Where are we moving?" one look at Chris and I knew he was wondering the same thing.

"DC." He said. If you haven't noticed so far, my dad is a man of few words. Though, when he really wants to, he can talk about something for hours. My mom was the complete opposite. She could have a conversation with the Check Out lady. She died about 7 years ago in a car accident when I was 9.

I looked out the window at the snow collecting on our car. I really liked it there in Minnesota. We'd only been there since the beginning of summer vacation and now that it was winter break I saw its true beauty. The snow was beautiful and I didn't really mind the cold.

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After dinner I went into Chris's room to help him pack for school. He was leaving the next day so I wanted to spend some time with him, and see how he was taking the news.

I was folding one of his shirts when I said, "You know, you're lucky that you go to Blackthorne. You don't have to be the new kid anymore."

"That's true," he said, "but I don't get to see you or Dad every day after school like I would if I went to a normal school." Just then Dad walked in.

"Meg. I need to talk to you for a minute." He wore a very grim expression as if he was dreading what he was about to tell me. I followed him out into the hall. "Meg, when we move to DC you won't be attending the local high school." I must have given him a strange look, because he sighed and continued. "You will be attending the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. It's a boarding school near Roseville, Virginia." I smiled at the thought of only having to be the new girl once more. He looked like there was something else he wanted to tell me but decided against it at the last minute and just smiled.

Growing up with parents who work for the government I've learned not to ask too many questions, because a lot of things are on a 'need to know' basis. It's sort of a habit now though, so when my dad told me I was going to attend the Gallagher Academy I didn't wonder what sort of classes they had, or what the dorms were like, I just smiled thinking about not having to switch schools every time we moved.

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A week later I was standing in front of our house looking at the For Sale sign with the big red ribbon reading 'SOLD'. All my bags for school were packed and all the rest of our things were loaded into a moving van. My dad and I walked to the car and climbed in. We had decided to drive instead of fly down to DC. We were about an hour into our 16 hour drive, when my dad broke the silence.

"Meghan, I haven't been completely honest with you." He said.

"About what?" I wondered.

He sighed, "About my job, about your new school, about everything." I raised my eyebrows as if telling him to continue. "My job," he started, "I do work for the government. That much was true, but I work for a special branch of the government. I work for the CIA."

I just stared at him, thinking my dad works for the CIA. My dad works for the CIA! When I finally got over the initial shock, I asked my dad, "So all those times you got transferred…"

"Yes." He answered before I even finished my question. He knew what I was thinking.

"What about my new school? What does that have to do with your work?"

"Well…" he paused as if he really didn't want to have to tell me. "The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women has a very hard curriculum. It teaches secret codes, foreign languages, and hand-to-hand combat training. All things to prepare their students for exceptional jobs… like being a secret agent, or working for the CIA, FBI, NSA, etc."

"So, you're sending me to the Gallagher Academy because you want me, when I'm old enough, to become a spy?"

"Meg, I'm not sending you there because I want you to be a spy, believe me when I say that I don't, but being my daughter I want you to be prepared for whatever gets thrown at you in the future. My job is dangerous Meg, and I don't want to have to worry about you all the time. The Gallagher Academy makes security a top priority and I know you'll be safe there."

"Oh, okay." And then I thought of Chris. He was 2 years older than me at 18. He must have known but for how long? "How long has Chris known?" I asked a bit harsher then I had meant to.

My dad sighed and reluctantly said, "Since he was in 7th grade." That's when I began thinking.

7th grade. That's when Chris started going to Blackthorne. So, I asked, "Is Blackthorne a spy school like Gallagher?"

"Yes." And that was that. I was on my way to spy school.

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Author's Note: Well that's the first chapter. I hope you liked it :) Please Review! If you have any Ideas for the story, or things I messed up review.