felt during our little mall mission, this was a million times worse. Now it wasn’t just me trying to adjust to the Squad: it was me and April. April, who could cheer. April, who Chloe had selected as her Mini-Me. April, who barely needed a makeover at all.
And then, as if things weren’t already bad enough, the torture started back up again. We went through the routine time after time, until I was the only one messing it up.
“That’s it for today,” Brooke said. “Let’s hit the showers.”
“Finally,” I groaned under my breath to Tara as we headed into the locker room. “I feel like my legs are going to secede and wage war on the rest of my body. All I want is to go home, and…”
I recognized the look on Tara’s face.
“I don’t get to go home, do I?”
Tara shook her head.
“Are we really hitting the showers?” I asked.
Tara bit her bottom lip and then nodded.
“Is this going to be anything like when we hit the showers this morning?” I asked.
Instead of answering, Tara walked from the gym into the locker room, and after casting a single sheepish look over her shoulder, she walked into one of the shower stalls, reached out, and twisted the shower knob. Left, right, and then left again, 180 degrees this time.
When the shower wall rotated and gave way to a staircase, I wasn’t all that surprised.
At least, I thought as the shower wall closed behind us, no one is going to tell me to point my toes in the Quad.
CHAPTER 14
Code Word: Party!
I didn’t see Brooke place the digi-disk into any kind of player, but before I could say “Go Lion(esse)s,” the index was up on the screen, and the other girls, sweaty from practice, were taking their seats at the table. Stiff and drenched in the fruits of my cheery labor, I slipped into the last available seat at the table, in between Tara and Zee.
“Chlo, can you decode?” Brooke asked. “Here’s the second disk.”
As soon as I heard the word
decode,
I leaned forward in my seat. I was new to this, but wasn’t decoding supposed to be my area of expertise?
Chloe tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and held my eyes with her own. “No problem,” she said, reaching forward to take the disk Tara had acquired from Brooke. She pulled something that looked like a makeup compact out of one of her shoes (how had she high-kicked with that in there? how?), and a split second later, she flipped it open, inserted the disk, and lifted a powder puff to reveal a tiny circular keyboard.
“Chloe’s compact has some basic decoding formulas programmed in. When she puts in the decoder disk, it runs the specifics through the formula and decodes the file,” Tara said.
“All of that in a makeup thingy?” I could feel my eyebrows rise as I asked the question. Tara might not have realized how complex the type of program she had described was, but believe me, I did, and the very fact that it was programmed into a unit that came with a powder puff was the equivalent of technological blasphemy.
“Voilà.”
Chloe leaned back in her seat, and after another hair flip and another oh-so-pointed look in my general direction, she turned back to Brooke. “Looks like we have something we can work with.”
In response, Brooke hit a few keys on the arm of her chair, and a thin green line appeared on the middle of the screen. “Play audio,” she said, her voice loud and clear.
The lights dimmed slightly, and as a voice filled the room, the green line on the screen began to move in sync with the words. I could only infer that whoever our bosses were, they were even bigger drama queens than the girls in this room—which, as you might have guessed, was
really
saying something.
“Hello, girls,” the voice said. I had an incredible urge to respond with “Good morning, Charlie,” but somehow, given the sudden seriousness that had settled over my teammates, I doubted anyone would appreciate the reference.
“As you know, the CIA databases have been accessed by an
And then, as if things weren’t already bad enough, the torture started back up again. We went through the routine time after time, until I was the only one messing it up.
“That’s it for today,” Brooke said. “Let’s hit the showers.”
“Finally,” I groaned under my breath to Tara as we headed into the locker room. “I feel like my legs are going to secede and wage war on the rest of my body. All I want is to go home, and…”
I recognized the look on Tara’s face.
“I don’t get to go home, do I?”
Tara shook her head.
“Are we really hitting the showers?” I asked.
Tara bit her bottom lip and then nodded.
“Is this going to be anything like when we hit the showers this morning?” I asked.
Instead of answering, Tara walked from the gym into the locker room, and after casting a single sheepish look over her shoulder, she walked into one of the shower stalls, reached out, and twisted the shower knob. Left, right, and then left again, 180 degrees this time.
When the shower wall rotated and gave way to a staircase, I wasn’t all that surprised.
At least, I thought as the shower wall closed behind us, no one is going to tell me to point my toes in the Quad.
CHAPTER 14
Code Word: Party!
I didn’t see Brooke place the digi-disk into any kind of player, but before I could say “Go Lion(esse)s,” the index was up on the screen, and the other girls, sweaty from practice, were taking their seats at the table. Stiff and drenched in the fruits of my cheery labor, I slipped into the last available seat at the table, in between Tara and Zee.
“Chlo, can you decode?” Brooke asked. “Here’s the second disk.”
As soon as I heard the word
decode,
I leaned forward in my seat. I was new to this, but wasn’t decoding supposed to be my area of expertise?
Chloe tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and held my eyes with her own. “No problem,” she said, reaching forward to take the disk Tara had acquired from Brooke. She pulled something that looked like a makeup compact out of one of her shoes (how had she high-kicked with that in there? how?), and a split second later, she flipped it open, inserted the disk, and lifted a powder puff to reveal a tiny circular keyboard.
“Chloe’s compact has some basic decoding formulas programmed in. When she puts in the decoder disk, it runs the specifics through the formula and decodes the file,” Tara said.
“All of that in a makeup thingy?” I could feel my eyebrows rise as I asked the question. Tara might not have realized how complex the type of program she had described was, but believe me, I did, and the very fact that it was programmed into a unit that came with a powder puff was the equivalent of technological blasphemy.
“Voilà.”
Chloe leaned back in her seat, and after another hair flip and another oh-so-pointed look in my general direction, she turned back to Brooke. “Looks like we have something we can work with.”
In response, Brooke hit a few keys on the arm of her chair, and a thin green line appeared on the middle of the screen. “Play audio,” she said, her voice loud and clear.
The lights dimmed slightly, and as a voice filled the room, the green line on the screen began to move in sync with the words. I could only infer that whoever our bosses were, they were even bigger drama queens than the girls in this room—which, as you might have guessed, was
really
saying something.
“Hello, girls,” the voice said. I had an incredible urge to respond with “Good morning, Charlie,” but somehow, given the sudden seriousness that had settled over my teammates, I doubted anyone would appreciate the reference.
“As you know, the CIA databases have been accessed by an
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