on Bond Street. I don’t know, I guess she chose it.”
“What time are you meeting them?”
I paused while tugging on my boot. “Is this an inquisition?”
“Why so defensive?” My mom arched an eyebrow.
“You’re the defensive one,” I shot back. “I’m just trying to put on my shoes.”
My dad leaned over so I could hang on to his shoulder and not topple. “You’ve been staying up late a lot,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. “Working on something?”
“That lock Angelo gave me. It’s insane. It keeps me up worrying about why I can’t crack it.” Partly true, I consoled myself. I wasn’t really lying to my parents.
“Are you sure you’re not going out to find these coins?” Busted.
“I’m going to dinner with Jesse and his mom,” I told them. “Call the restaurant and check the reservation if you want.”
“You’re leaving awfully early, though.” My dad was now up and pacing in the kitchen. Never good.
“I told you, I’m going to Roux’s! Why are you two suddenly so jumpy?” But I knew exactly why: spies can smell trouble even when they’re not involved in it. My parents knew something was up because something
was
up.
They continued to stare at me, both accusing and pleading, and I shrugged my shoulders and hoisted my bag onto my shoulder. “Talk to Angelo if you want to know something,” I told them. “He’s the one who put me on the silent treatment.”
I said it so offhandedly, not even thinking about it, that I didn’t even realize why the room had gone quiet. I’ve done a lot—we’re talking
a lot
—of stupid things in my life, but that sentence took the cake. It was like a bomb went off in our kitchen.
“What?” my mom screamed. “He told you what?”
“He can’t just order you to do something like that!” my dad hollered. “Where is he? Get him on the phone right now!”
“We are your
parents
—!”
“This is
outrageous
—!”
“HEY!” I yelled, trying to interrupt them. I felt like I should pick up a barstool and use it to keep them at bay, like a lion tamer in the circus. “I told you, take it up with him. But he’s right, you two are too close to this. You’re too involved.”
“Because you’re our daughter!” my mom cried. “Of
course
we’re involved!”
“Then have a little faith in your gene pool! Remember what happened the last time you didn’t trust me? Colton Hooper ended up nearly running me down.”
It was a low blow, I admit, but it worked. The tension disappeared as their shoulders sagged, and I felt bad for them. “Just relax,” I said. “What are you going to do when I go off on my own? You can’t control everything that happens to me. And you won’t always get to know everything, either. Is this what college is going to be like? You calling me every fifteen minutes and asking what I’m doing?”
“Yes,” my dad said.
“The difference between college and this,” my mom added, “is that you won’t be risking your life to save ours.”
I shrugged and tried to ignore the lump forming rapidly in my throat. “Them’s the breaks,” I said. “You shouldn’t have had a kid who was such an awesome spy. And I told you, I’m going to dinner with Jess. So relax, okay?” I leaned over to kiss my dad on the cheek, then gave my mom a hug. “Watch
Antiques Roadshow
or something. Take a bath. Have some chamomile tea. And don’t worry about me.”
Because I have enough worry for all of us
, I added silently.
“You’re going to have to go in blind,” Angelo told me. “I don’t know whether or not Dominic has surveillance set up and we can’t risk it.”
“No headset, gotcha,” I replied. “You could have mentioned that earlier, by the way.”
We were standing in the middle of the Forty-Second Street/Times Square subway station. On an average Monday, it was one of the busiest stations in the city, but on Friday night, it was barely controlled bedlam. We weresandwiched
“What time are you meeting them?”
I paused while tugging on my boot. “Is this an inquisition?”
“Why so defensive?” My mom arched an eyebrow.
“You’re the defensive one,” I shot back. “I’m just trying to put on my shoes.”
My dad leaned over so I could hang on to his shoulder and not topple. “You’ve been staying up late a lot,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. “Working on something?”
“That lock Angelo gave me. It’s insane. It keeps me up worrying about why I can’t crack it.” Partly true, I consoled myself. I wasn’t really lying to my parents.
“Are you sure you’re not going out to find these coins?” Busted.
“I’m going to dinner with Jesse and his mom,” I told them. “Call the restaurant and check the reservation if you want.”
“You’re leaving awfully early, though.” My dad was now up and pacing in the kitchen. Never good.
“I told you, I’m going to Roux’s! Why are you two suddenly so jumpy?” But I knew exactly why: spies can smell trouble even when they’re not involved in it. My parents knew something was up because something
was
up.
They continued to stare at me, both accusing and pleading, and I shrugged my shoulders and hoisted my bag onto my shoulder. “Talk to Angelo if you want to know something,” I told them. “He’s the one who put me on the silent treatment.”
I said it so offhandedly, not even thinking about it, that I didn’t even realize why the room had gone quiet. I’ve done a lot—we’re talking
a lot
—of stupid things in my life, but that sentence took the cake. It was like a bomb went off in our kitchen.
“What?” my mom screamed. “He told you what?”
“He can’t just order you to do something like that!” my dad hollered. “Where is he? Get him on the phone right now!”
“We are your
parents
—!”
“This is
outrageous
—!”
“HEY!” I yelled, trying to interrupt them. I felt like I should pick up a barstool and use it to keep them at bay, like a lion tamer in the circus. “I told you, take it up with him. But he’s right, you two are too close to this. You’re too involved.”
“Because you’re our daughter!” my mom cried. “Of
course
we’re involved!”
“Then have a little faith in your gene pool! Remember what happened the last time you didn’t trust me? Colton Hooper ended up nearly running me down.”
It was a low blow, I admit, but it worked. The tension disappeared as their shoulders sagged, and I felt bad for them. “Just relax,” I said. “What are you going to do when I go off on my own? You can’t control everything that happens to me. And you won’t always get to know everything, either. Is this what college is going to be like? You calling me every fifteen minutes and asking what I’m doing?”
“Yes,” my dad said.
“The difference between college and this,” my mom added, “is that you won’t be risking your life to save ours.”
I shrugged and tried to ignore the lump forming rapidly in my throat. “Them’s the breaks,” I said. “You shouldn’t have had a kid who was such an awesome spy. And I told you, I’m going to dinner with Jess. So relax, okay?” I leaned over to kiss my dad on the cheek, then gave my mom a hug. “Watch
Antiques Roadshow
or something. Take a bath. Have some chamomile tea. And don’t worry about me.”
Because I have enough worry for all of us
, I added silently.
“You’re going to have to go in blind,” Angelo told me. “I don’t know whether or not Dominic has surveillance set up and we can’t risk it.”
“No headset, gotcha,” I replied. “You could have mentioned that earlier, by the way.”
We were standing in the middle of the Forty-Second Street/Times Square subway station. On an average Monday, it was one of the busiest stations in the city, but on Friday night, it was barely controlled bedlam. We weresandwiched
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