As it turned out, the Gallagher Academy was even more intimidating than Maddie had imagined.
For starters, there were fourteen mandatory languages, only two of which Maddie already spoke. And one of those was English. And there was something about knowing your new classmates could kill you with a bobby pin approximately seven different ways that was just disconcerting. Maddie was damn good with a hatchet, but she had a long way to go when it came to weaponizing her accessories.
Every girl at the Gallagher Academy was just as smart and cunning as Maddie believed herself to be, and the majority of them had several years of professional training on her. And established groups of friends. Really, Maddie had to admit that she couldn't think of many torture strategies worse than walking uninvited into a room full of high school girl cliques.
Maddie walked into the dining hall alone, and filled her tray with a meal rivaling the ones she'd had at the White House so many years before. No one saw Maddie. They were all aware of her presence, of course, but no one gestured her over to join them, not even Tiffany, who sat two tables over with a quartet of other girls, casually watching Maddie's reflection on her fork, and intentionally avoiding eye contact.
Maddie settled herself at an empty table, and waited anxiously for Logan's appearance. He was late, of course, and for a brief moment, Maddie worried about his safety. She studied her surroundings. Surely, not even Logan could escape from 144 testosterone-deprived girl spies on the very first day.
Maddie heard shuffling as several girls came to sit beside her, bantering back and forth in a series of languages and dialects. Maddie counted at least ten in the course of 30 seconds. She glanced up nervously, and the girls exchanged a glance, followed by a giggle, and switched to English.
"You're father's that infamous secret service agent who shot the Russians at their own state dinner, isn't he?"
"Is the President's son single? Are you dating? Do you have dibs? If not, I'm calling dibs."
"She really doesn't speak a single language!"
"You're really old to be just starting here, you know."
"She saved the President's son from a Russian exfiltration in Alaska, I'm pretty sure she'll catch up."
"Why were you hiding in Alaska anyway? Was it because of the whole shooting Russians in the White House incident?"
Maddie wasn't part of this conversation, not really. It was about her, not for her, and the girls didn't let her get a single word in.
It was only a deep voice, saying happily, "Make some space, ladies" that could stop them. The girls who had swarmed Maddie struggled to find space between her and Logan, and energetically began introducing themselves. Logan greeted them each with his politician's smile, but his eyes searched for Maddie's.
When he finally pushed close enough to Maddie that he could realistically expect her to hear him, he whispered urgently, "Mad. I don't think we're in Alaska anymore." Maddie rolled her eyes as dramatically as she could.
"This isn't just a girl's boarding school," he continued, and Maddie couldn't help thinking that, for a boy with a photographic memory, Logan could be very slow. "I'm pretty sure it's a boarding school for spies."
