It's the start of second semester of my sophomore year here at the Blackthorne Institute for Boys. Grant and I are on our way to CoveOps while Jonas headed towards the hallway that leads to Advance Organic Chemistry.

"See ya guys at lunch," Jonas called before walking away from us to start his career in the research and development track while Grant and I will be in the field.

When the two of us reached the elevator that would take us to Sublevel One, there was a note on it.

Sophomore CoveOps class,

Go to the front lawn for today's lesson.

Grant and I shared a look. It was the look that said, "Yes! A mission!" So, of course, we ran to the front lawn and whom do we see? Dr. Steve.

And a helicopter.

"Hello, boys," welcomed Dr. Steve. "Get into the elevator while we wait for everyone else."

Two minutes and eleven seconds later, the entire sophomore CoveOps class was piled into the now flying helicopter.

"Boys, each of you will be given an agent to tail," said Dr. Steve. "Your mission is to find out where they are all meeting at five o'clock." He handed each of us a white envelope with our name written on it.

In mine, there was a black and white picture of the face of girl about my age, who looked as if she didn't know this picture was being taken. Wait a minute! Back track! This girl looks to be my age! But Blackthorne is the only spy school out there...right?

I looked over at Grant, who was sitting next to me, and saw he looked as shocked as I felt.

"But...but..." He just kept stuttering.

"To answer the question I'm sure you all want to ask," said Dr. Steve. "Yes, the Blackthorne Institute for Boys is not the only spy school. In fact, this other school is for girls."

The helicopter ride was silent the rest of the way to where ever we were headed.

Twenty minutes and fifty-three seconds later, the helicopter landed in a deserted field. Two hundred yards away, a plain, black van was waiting for us.

Exactly ten minutes later, the car stopped and Dr. Steve started to explain more about our mission.

"Keep in touch through your comms unit, and remember, your cover is you're boarding school students here for a field trip." He stared at us for five seconds before adding, "Good luck, and I hope you do an excellent job."

Three hours and twenty minutes later, Grant and I were walking around the museum for the third time.

"Where are these chicks?" Grant complained for the twenty-second time.

"Let's just sit on those benches over there," I suggested. "We can see the entrance of the building. They'll have to walk by at some point."

So for half an hour we sat there, waiting for the two girls we were assigned to tail. But my stomach growled, telling me that I was hungry.

"I'm gonna go to the vending machine," I told Grant, pointing to entrance where two vending machines sat. "Tell me on the comms if they happen to walk by."

There were two different machines, one for drinks, and the other for snacks. I took out seventy-five cents and pressed A-D, buying the small pack of M&Ms.

I hurried back over to Grant, not wanting to miss the spy girls.

Thirty minutes and half a pack of M&Ms later, we spotted them.

Well, we spotted Grant's girl.

She was just walking, well, more like twirling, on the sidewalk. Suddenly, she went back and put her arm around another girl, I didn't even notice her at first. What a great spy I am (sarcasm intended).

When they looked over at us, I thought we were caught. But, luckily, they bought our cover.

They giggled and turned away, cheeks burning. They thought we were normal boys.

After they walked past us, we got up and followed them.

We followed them all around the museum: up and down escalators, in and out of stores, and every time they stopped to tie their shoes, we stopped and tied ours.

They caught up with a group of girls wearing similar school uniforms as theirs, and started to blend in with them. Some of the normal girls looked back at us, and so did the spies. I was sure we weren't caught, because they started giggling again.

As the normal school girls went into the elevator, the two spy girls split up, causing me and Grant to split up, too.

I followed my girl up a few more floors, when she went to another elevator.

She reached for the elevator button, and being the gentlemen that I am, I pushed it for her.

"Hey," I said, doing one of those half-nod things I've seen normal, teenage boys do on TV.

"Hi," she replied back, while pushing the elevator button again. I thought she was supposed to be a genius. She should know that however many times you push the button, the elevator's not going to get here any faster.

But when the elevator did get here, we both stepped inside. She didn't seem too happy about that.

I took this time to study her, my subject. She was about five, four with medium length, dark brown hair. Her eyes were the color of the bright, blue sky. I couldn't help but think she was kind of pretty.

She was also wearing a green and white school uniform {A/N- Think of the cover of Cross My Heart and Hope to Spy}. On the coat's crest was the school name: Gallagher Academy. This must be the name of the famous all girls spy school. I decided to see what information she'd give me about that.

"So, the Guggenheim Academy—" Wasn't I smart? Purposely pronouncing the name of a school wrong to not show how smart I really am?

"Gallagher Academy," she corrected me, but there was an annoyed tone in her voice, like she wished I wasn't here. Well, Gallagher Girl, too bad.

"I've never heard of it." I lied smoothly; I only learned of it a few hours ago.

"Well, it's my school." I guess she's not giving me a lot to know about on that subject.

During an uncomfortable silence, I just watched her. As I did this, I noticed she was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"You in a hurry or something?" Of course I knew she was.

"Actually, I'm supposed to meet my teacher at the ruby slipper exhibit. I've only got twenty minutes, and if I'm late, he's going to kill me." I can't believe she just told me where they're meeting. Well, if I lose her, I could just meet her there. And is she exaggerating about her teacher? Must be strict.

"How do you know," I asked, trying to see if she'd caught her mistake.

"Because he said, 'Meet me at the ruby slipper exhibit.'"

"No, how do you know you only have twenty minutes? You're not wearing a watch."

"My friend just told me," she lied easily.

"You fidget a lot." What's your excuse for that, Gallagher Girl?

"I'm sorry," she said, although she didn't sound sorry at all. "I have low blood sugar. I need to eat something."

Oh, well if she was really hungry.... "Here." I reached into my jeans pocket. "I ate most of them already." And I threw her the half-full bag of M&Ms.

"Oh...um..." she hesitated, "that's okay. Thanks though."

Smart girl to not except candy from strangers, but I couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed and rejected. "Oh. Okay," I said, and put the M&Ms back into my pocket.

When the elevator reached the top, she bolted out of there, but turned around to say, "Thanks again for the candy."

I started following her at a safe distance when she whirled around. "Where are you going?"

"I thought we were going to meet your teacher in the wonderful world of Oz?"

"We?"

"Sure. I'm going with you." Whether you like it or not, I added internally.

"No you're not," she snapped at me.

"Look," I said confidently. "It's dark. You're by yourself. And this is D.C. And you've only got"—I pretended to think about it—"fifteen minutes to meet your teacher." I was actually off by ninety seconds but I was sure a normal boy wouldn't know the exact time.

She stated walking away but still responded with a, "Fine."

As we walked, her speed kept increasing.

"You can really walk fast," I said, but she just kept walking. "So, do you have a name?" I really was curious about her name. I was only given her picture.

"Sure. Lots of them." Good one, Gallagher Girl. That maybe the most truthful thing you've told me.

We kept walking, but the silence was becoming too much, so I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

She got this weird look on her face as she responded. "Look, thanks for the chivalry and all, but it really isn't necessary. It's just up here," and she pointed to the Museum of American History twenty yards away. "And there's a cop over there."

"What?" I said, a little disappointed, "you think that guy can do a better job protecting you than I can?"

"No, I think if you don't leave me alone, I can scream and that cop will arrest you." Gallagher Girl, that is mean. But you'd never do that; you would get yourself too much attention. And a good spy doesn't want a lot of attention.

I smirked as I walked away.

"Hey, thanks anyway," she told me.

I nodded and just walked away. But of course I didn't. She is my target and I'm her tail. Instead, I took the back staircase and up to the third floor.

There was only a dark-haired man there, observing the ruby slippers. I ignored him and pretended to be interested in some of the other artifacts there. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him look at me...and smile...?

But then I heard footsteps coming from the main staircase, and the man nodded. Then he blended himself into the shadows. I did the same and my mind started to comprehend who this man was.

He was her teacher; whatever his name might be.

When she came into view, she went for the slippers, but there was a worried look on her face.

"You're four seconds late," said the teacher, stepping out of the shadows.

She spun around, obviously surprised by his sudden voice. "But I'm alone."

"No, Ms. Morgan. You're not."

I knew this was my cue, so I stepped forward.

I smirked at the dumbfounded expression on her face. I said, "Hi again, Gallagher Girl."

"Nice work, Zach," said the teacher. I winked at "Ms. Morgan" deciding to figure out how he knew my name later.

Suddenly, her face changed from surprise to confidence as she said, "Hi, Blackthorne Boy."

How did she know I was from Blackthorne?! How long has she known about my school?

I recovered from my shock as the teacher said, "Very good, Ms. Morgan," then looking at me again continued talking. "But not good enough."

She just stared at me for a minute (actually twelve seconds) then said, "Your mission was...what? To keep us from achieving our mission?"

Well, that's a weird way to put it, but if you think about it, I guess it is. But of course, I didn't tell her that. Instead, I cocked my head, raised my eyebrows, and said, "Something like that." Then I smirked. "I thought I could just make you late for your meeting. I didn't think you'd actually tell me were it was and walk me halfway there."

I couldn't help but give her credit for my victory.

Right before a crowd of tourists walked in front of us, she looked like she was going to be sick. I...I felt kind of sorry for her, and if you knew me well, you'd know I don't usually feel an emotion like that.

But the crowd walked between us, and I walked away, sure I was never going to see her again.

A good spy should know to expect the unexpected.