That was sort of a crazy time. I haven’t even told you about the attempted kidnapping yet. Or how the bad guys ended up chasing us twenty blocks and Angelo had to fly in on a helicopter to save me and Roux and Jesse from almost being killed.
I don’t like to brag, but sometimes my life can be really exciting.
Anyway, Jesse and I are still together, and he’s forgiven me for lying to him in the beginning. We both figure that if our relationship can survive all that, then we’re pretty good at being together. And we are. He’s the only person besides Roux who knows that Angelo, my parents, and I are all spies, and he’s never once spilled the secret. (Probably because he also thinks that Angelo is an assassin. Roux can be very convincing.)
“Wanna come over?” I asked Roux as we tried to walk under as many awnings as possible, avoiding the sun. “I think my dad’s doing something involving barbecue tonight.”
“No, thanks, I have my tae kwon do class.”
“Ah, that’s right.” During our exciting near escape last year, Roux had managed to break the bad guy’s nose and now she’s all gung-ho on self-defense and putting up a good offense.
“And I think my parents are going to be home late tonight, anyway,” Roux continued, now examining her cuticles. “I should probably be around to guilt them about leaving for five weeks.”
“You could probably get a pony out of it,” I said.
“The last thing I need is something that neighs and craps all over the foyer.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and straightened her sunglasses. “Don’t worry, I’ll get my revenge when they’re old and it’s time to put them in nursing homes. They’ll spend their last days making macramé if I have anything to say about it.”
Roux’s parents are ridiculously wealthy. Like, how-are-you-even-a-real-person wealthy. It might sound amazing, but the real downside is that they’re never home. They live in this huge building on the Upper East Side and Roux always seems to have the place to herself. Her dad has meetings around the world, and her mom goes with him. “Someone has to see if all the luxury spas in the world are up to snuff,” Roux says, but it’s hard to miss the hurt in her eyes. And then there’s the Frieze Art Fair in London, Art Basel in Miami, antique auctions in Rome, getaway vacations in Bora Bora, and so on and so on.
It makes my parents insane because they like Roux and feel bad that she’s practically raising herself, but what can you do? “We could break into her parents’ online accounts and siphon out their money into an account for Roux,” my mom answered when I asked that several months ago, and it took an hour for my dad and me to talk her out of the idea.
Once a computer hacker, always a computer hacker.
“Well, tell your parents I said hi,” I told Roux as we started to cross the street against the light. “Even though they’ve never met me.”
“Please,” Roux said. “I could tell them that you met last year at a black tie cocktail reception for famous chimpanzees and they’d believe me. And maybe I should get a pony. I could name it Consolation Prize.”
“Brilliant idea,” I replied. I had learned long ago that Roux’s schemes came and went with equal speed. And sure enough, she was already off on her next subject.
“Are you bored?”
“What? You mean, right now? Not really. I mean, nothing’s really happening but—”
“No, I just mean in general. Like, with your life.”
I sighed. I knew where this conversation was going and decided to cut to the chase. “No, Roux, I am not leaving on any new missions. I told you, I’m out. At least until after I graduate next year.”
“Well, what if you had to? Like, if national security was at stake?”
“The government doesn’t even know about us. I doubt they’d call my dad and be like, ‘Hey, you three busy? There’s this thing …’”
We stopped at the corner across from the subway station at Astor Place as Roux lowered her sunglasses to look at me. “You’re lying,” she finally said. “Your eyes are going up and to the left.”
“That means I’m lying?”
“Yes. I’ve been studying up on human facial tics.”
“Sounds riveting. And I am not lying. Are you getting on the subway with me or not?”
“No, I have to go home and get my stuff.” Roux stepped off the curb to hail a taxi just as a man cut in front of us. He was wearing an old suit and tie that clearly had not been washed for a few days, and he had a few weeks’ worth of whiskers lining his face.
“You!” he said to me, pointing right in my face. His nails were long and dirty, but I didn’t flinch. A lifetime of learning how to stay calm in stressful situations often came in handy in New York.
“They’re after you next!” he yelled. “Especially you!”
“Excellent, that’s great,” Roux said under her breath, reaching for my arm and pulling me away from the man. “Let’s just step over here and get out of Insane Land, okay? There we go.”
I watched as the man staggered down the street, blending in with the late-afternoon crowds. “Well, that was weird,” I said.
“Do you know him?” Roux asked.
“I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
“You!” the man yelled again, this time pointing at a nanny pushing a stroller. She didn’t even blink. “Especially you!”