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308 pages, Hardcover
First published February 26, 2013
I sat back in my chair and sighed. “I have to seduce someone,” I announced to my parents. “High school is already destroying my moral code and I haven’t even set foot on the campus yet.”This book was a fucking blast. Every other page had me giggling. I can't even remember the last time I gave anything a 5. This book is about a female sleuth. You might be expecting Nancy Drew, and you'd be so fucking wrong. The main character is more female Johnny English than Nancy Drew. Nancy Drew is far too sophisticated and far too reliant on deus ex machina. This book is about a fiercely competent spy who finds herself a fish out of water...and into high school. Hell might be more easy to crack.
My mom peeked at my dossier. “I think ‘befriend’ is the word you’re looking for,” she said after a minute.
Sometimes she’s no fun.
“I get to go to high school?” I said. “No more homeschooling? Do I … do I finally get an assignment?”Maggie is the 16-year old daughter of spies. Her parents work for an organization called "The Collective," which does a lot of cool shit behind the scenes that us normal mortals don't know about.
“Holy crap!” I said. “Hallelujah, it’s a miracle! I finally get to do something besides watch everyone else have fun!” I raised my bagel in the air like an award, then pretended to wipe away tears. “This just means so much to me! I’d like to thank all the little people that I crushed on my way to the top.”
Tobacco executives on trial because of damning evidence? Human smuggling rings being broken up? The fall of that Peruvian dictator? That’s us.She's a safecracker, a lock breaker, and she is damned good at her job. Except being the daughter of spies who are constantly moving from place to place is pretty fucking boring. She's hardly attended school, she sometimes accompany her parents to different jobs, and she has no friends. She has imaginary conversations with cute boys, but that's pretty much it. Her life is boring.
I even managed to mortify myself by having a long-running and completely one-sided “How you doin’?” imaginary conversation with Cute Boy.Maggie is ready for a change. And she gets it! Halle-fucking-lujah! Her assignment: Jesse Oliver. Son of Armand Oliver, a magazine editor. A magazine editor who's about to blow the lid on The Collective.
Where’d we move from? Oh, nowhere you’d know. So what do you do around here for fun?
Ice cream? Yeah, I love ice cream. With you? Of course! No, my parents are totally cool with me dating.
See? Pathetic.
“So you get in through Jesse,” my dad said to me. “This one’s on you, kiddo.”Hooray! Go to high school, get close to Jesse Oliver (who, from a background search, seems to be kind of a loser).
“He’s a delinquent!” I yelled out to my parents. “He was arrested for shoplifting last year!”Get into Oliver daddy's safe, steal the information. BOOM. Easy, right?
No response.
“I just want you to know that I’m going to be hanging out with someone who has a criminal record!” I cried.
“Let’s not forget that our family can never reenter Luxembourg without being arrested!” my dad yelled back.
Touché.
After my first week of high school, I was ready for it to be over.It turns out that The Collective are fucking idiots. How the fuck is Maggie supposed to infiltrate the high school social structure in the middle of the fucking quarter? She's the new girl! She's never been enrolled in school for long! She has no idea what to do!
The Collective should have enrolled me on the first day, not three weeks into the semester. What were they even thinking? I didn’t know who made up the Collective, but clearly, there wasn’t a teenage girl among them.To top it off, it's a big fucking school. It's not easy to get close to Jesse Oliver. She hasn't even fucking SEEN Jesse Oliver. She's made a possible friend/spy...
I was sure I knew her! Maybe she was a spy, too. Maybe the Collective had two of us infiltrating the system. That would be a first, but hey, it wasn’t any crazier than enrolling me in geometry.But where the fuck is Jesse Oliver?! Maggie's so fed up with this shit, so she calls mommy to complain...
“Sorry,” I said immediately. “Look, I can do this. I can do this better than anyone because I am a spy, okay? I am a great spy and—and something is licking me.”Well, fuck. Luckily, Jesse Oliver, like most normal people, thinks she's joking. After all, who in their right mind would believe a 16-year old girl is a spy?!
There was a definite wetness on my calf and I glanced down to see a huge, shaggy golden retriever pushing his nose against my leg, then giving me a big doggie grin. I had seen this dog somewhere before, and I looked from the dog to his leash to his very cute owner.
Oh, no, I suddenly realized, my heartbeat flying into overdrive. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
“So,” Jesse Oliver said, “what’s this about being a great spy?”
“Are we sworn now?” he said, his eyes crinkled at the corners.Well, crap. This mission is going to be harder than she thinks, not least because it's KIND of hard to get into his penthouse and sneak around and find a safe and crack it...it's pretty much like finding a needle in a haystack to bring down daddy Oliver.
“Yes,” I said, and tugged on his finger for good measure. “It’s also possible that we’re now considered married in the country of New Guinea.”
We both cracked up at the same time. “Kidding!” I giggled. “Kidding! At least I think I am. Who knows?”
“Let’s Wikipedia that when we get home,” Jesse suggested.
Somewhere in the deep, shameful part of my heart, I knew that I wouldn’t always be friends with Roux, or even together with Jesse. It wasn’t in the job description, and I had watched my own parents pack up and move so many times that I had lost track. None of this was a surprise.Her parents find out what it's like to be parents to a high schooler for the first time.
But that was before I had made friends.
I entered the code to our front door and opened it carefully. My parents were probably sleeping and I didn’t want to—And can Maggie bear to leave this new, wonderful life behind when the mission is finished?
“Where have you been?”
Both my mom and my dad were standing in the kitchen, arms folded, staring at me. I hadn’t seen them look that angry since … well, ever.
“Oh, hi,” I said. “I can explain.”
“But how can you expect me to make a choice about my life, my future, when I know only one option? All I know is this job. Yeah, I’m good at safecracking, but what if I’m better at being a normal person? What if it makes me happier?”The Parents:
“It’s two thirty in the morning!” my mom cried. “In Manhattan! Do you know all the things that could have happened to you?”OH MY GOD, WE HAVE ACTUAL PARENTS? And they are all sorts of adorable. We have computer hacker mom...
I looked at my parents like they were speaking Korean. (And to be fair, my dad can speak Korean, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.)
She’s an amazing computer hacker, which I think sort of rankles my dad. He’s useless when it comes to electronics. One time, we were in Boston and they got into this huge fight because my dad thought my mom was taking too long to do her job. She just handed him the TiVo remote and said, “Tell me how this works.” And of course he couldn’t, so she was all, “Don’t tell me how to do my job,” and believe me, he doesn’t anymore.To linguist dad. They are cool parents, but they weren't really normal parents, because they were spies first. And really, Maggie's never been a problem. Hell, she tags along safecracking with them on their jobs. So they were parents, but they never did the parenting thing until Maggie goes to school.
Make nicey-nice with Jesse Oliver? Check! Get into his house so I can scope out his father’s office and see what his safe situation was? Check, check! Foil Dad Oliver’s plan, save the world, and be promoted to head spy of all time? CHECK, CHECK, AND CHECK!AHAHAHAHA. I have to admit that Maggie might come off as immature to some, but to me, she is so endearing. She has the right amount of self-consciousness and immaturity that I totally love. She is so good at what she does (being "beige" and safecracking), but normal things like making friends and going to school is something so completely new for her and she's completely cowardly.
“Right back atcha,” I said, taking my class schedule and sauntering out.She is not incompetent, she's just not used to this whole situation. Maggie has never had friends outside of the suited (and awesome) 50-something Angelo. She doesn't have girlfriends. She's never dated. She doesn't know how to flirt. She doesn't know anything but blending in (because spies don't stand out).
Bring it, Harper School.
The Harper School definitely brought it.
By the time lunch rolled around, I felt like I was ready to retire.
You know how sometimes you realize you’re doing or saying the wrong thing, but you just can’t stop yourself? You can literally hear the words coming out of your mouth and you just want to shove them back in because the real you, the good you, would never want to be this way, but you just keep going?This book did such a great job of highlighting Maggie's insecurities, with just the right amount of humor.
Yeah. That was me. Because instead of agreeing to try harder, be better, I got whiny.
“Look,” I said. “I like you. Like, like like you. Like, a lot.”Jesse Oliver made it onto my book boyfriend list. He's just fucking adorable. Initially, he seems like a douche. He shoplifted, he has stupid pictures on his profile.
“That’s a lot of ‘likes.’”
“Yes, it is.” Angelo was right about the West Coast ruining my grammar. “But don’t you feel like it’s happening kind of fast? Shouldn’t we just slow down a little?”
Even Jesse Oliver’s photo page was banal. Hanging out with friends in one shoot, giving the finger in another, hugging a golden retriever in the third.But as it turned out, it's just a facade. I usually hate poor-little-rich-boy tropes, but Jesse is so likeable that I completely forgive him.
“It’s like, I have all this luck and wealth and privilege, but who gives a shit? People expect me to be some spoiled brat, so then I act like some spoiled brat—I mean, I stole that book, what a dumbass—but it’s not me at all. And then when I try to act like an upright citizen, volunteer and all that, they accuse me of using my dad’s connections to get ahead. But if I don’t do anything, then my dad gets pissed that I’m not doing anything."The thing with Jesse is that he is such a sweetheart. He never, EVER acts like a jerk to Maggie. He has a sense of humor. He never flinches. His only fault is that he trusts and falls for her too easily (although it's not insta-love).
“Maggie.” He got up and came over to stand next to me, taking my hand in his. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”Jesse is not smooth. He's the biggest dork in the whole world, as you can tell from that quote above, and I absolutely adore him for it.
At that point, I would have run away to Zimbabwe and raised herds of elephants with him.
“Yes,” I admitted. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”
“Are you kidding? I’m going to show you how it’s done. I’m going to date you like you’ve never been dated before. We’re talking fireworks, okay? Literal fireworks. None of this ‘let’s eat ice cream in the freezing cold while we sit on a dirty stoop’ shit. I’m pulling out all the stops. Call me LL Cool Jess.”
"Are we sworn now?” he said, his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“Yes,” I said, and tugged on his finger for good measure. “It’s also possible that we’re now considered married in the country of New Guinea.”
We both cracked up at the same time. “Kidding!” I giggled. “Kidding! At least I think I am. Who knows?”
“Let’s Wikipedia that when we get home,” Jesse suggested."
"They were fighting over this clown? Now I had seen everything.
“Jake?” Julia said, crossing her arms and looking over at Stoner Boy. “Is it true? Who did you like better, babe?”
Babe? They were still together? Jake cheated on Julia and she took him back? If this were a TV show, I would have been recording every single episode on my DVR. "
" (...) Are guys always like this?"
"Um. Kind of?"
I threw my hands into the air. "This is why the world's a mess!" I yelled. "Because no one can just say what they want to say!"
"I think that's a John Mayer song," Jesse pointed out."
"It was time for the mirror pep talk.
“Okay, Maggie,” I said to myself after my shower, wiping the steam off the medicine cabinet.
“You could eat these kids for breakfast. You won’t, though, because that would be cannibalistic and wrong."
"You know how sometimes you realize you’re doing or saying the wrong thing, but you just can’t stop yourself? You can literally hear the words coming out of your mouth and you just want to shove them back in because the real you, the good you, would never want to be this way, but you just keep going? "
"Seriously. Feathers. Why?”
“No clue.”
“I think I dreamed that I was the Black Swan. Oh my God, I need coffeeeeeeeee. If I don’t have coffee, I will shrivel up and die just like one of those little roly-poly bugs.” She paused. “There’s a feather in my mouth. Blechhh.”
“Roux,” I said, trying to bring her back to the present. “I need to talk to you.”
“Is this an intervention?”
“What? No. God, no.” I didn’t have that kind of time, for starters. “I just have some questions."
"It’s not going to be all good for Roux tomorrow,” I pointed out, “but wait. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jesse shrugged and ran his hand through his hair in a way that was not adorable or charming. At all. “Well, um, you’re kind of intimidating?”
I was definitely intimidating, but not for any reason that Jesse Oliver would or should know about. “What do you mean?”
“Well, in class you’re always taking notes … and frowning?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“See?” Jesse protested. “You’re really argumentative, too."
Holy crap!” I said. “Hallelujah, it’s a miracle! I finally get to do something besides watch everyone else have fun!” I raised my bagel in the air like an award, then pretended to wipe away tears. “This just means so much to me! I’d like to thank all the little people that I crushed on my way to the top.
“Look, I’m sorry, but what do you want?” I said. “You signed me up for this, so this is what I have to do. I have to go to Halloween parties and spend time with people! It’s my job!”
“It’s two thirty in the morning!” my mom cried. “In Manhattan! Do you know all the things that could have happened to you?”
I looked at my parents like they were speaking Korean. (And to be fair, my dad can speak Korean, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.)
“Were you a Mean Girl?” I asked. “I saw the movie.”
Roux paused for a long time before finally saying, “Yes. I was a bitch to people. I talked about girls, made up rumors, all of that. Ever since fifth grade.”
“So now you’re persona non grata,” I said. “Wow. Social justice, like, never happens. I’m sorry!” I told her when she frowned and started to walk away. “I’m really sorry, it just slipped out.”
“Yes, please, enjoy my karmic retribution.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you weren’t wearing your ring,” Jesse said.
I yelped and quickly moved to cover my hand. “It’s being resized at the jeweler’s!”
“I don’t want to make it weird or anything!” he said, even though we were both laughing by now. “I just couldn’t help but notice!”
“It was sending me into diabetic shock just by wearing it!” I cried. “I didn’t do it for me, I did it for us!”
“Are you insane?” my mother said to him. “What were you thinking!”
My dad closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maggie,” he said, “explain to me again how you have a date.”
“Um, he asked?” No one said a word. “And I said yes?”
You know how sometimes you realize you’re doing or saying the wrong thing, but you just can’t stop yourself? You can literally hear the words coming out of your mouth and you just want to shove them back in because the real you, the good you, would never want to be this way, but you just keep going?
Yeah. That was me. Because instead of agreeing to try harder, be better, I got whiny.
“Why does everything sound better when a British person says it?”
“It’s not a matter of saying,” my dad told me. “It’s a matter of doing.”
“I hoped Roux wasn't going to the movies by herself. That would be just sad.”
“I wondered how many days she had spent in her room watching movies while her parents were halfway across the world. It seemed fun but not really, like being the only person in an amusement park. No one wants to go on rides all by herself.”
“It was time for the mirror pep talk.
“Okay, Maggie,” I said to myself after my shower, wiping the steam off the medicine cabinet.
“You could eat these kids for breakfast. You won’t, though, because that would be cannibalistic and
wrong.”
“So, Harold. Friend, pal, chum.” Roux folded her hands on top of the desk. “Are you going to
buzz us in or not?”
“Go on up, miss,” Harold said, waving us through the lobby and toward the elevators.
“Harold, you’re a gem. A pristine gem honed over years of trial and fire.”
“That’s how I would describe my job, too,” Harold replied.”
My parents weren’t surprised that I cracked the lock. I think they’d have been more surprised if I hadn’t opened it. It would probably be hugely disappointing for two spies to have a completely inept kid, you know?
I pulled out a tiny scope camera that had a monitor attached to it. “This lets me see where the grooves are in the lock. Each groove corresponds to a number on the combination and I just have to line them up.”
Jesse and Roux looked at me like I was speaking Martian. “Where do you even get this stuff?”
“Sweet Sixteen present from my parents.”
- Странная у нас семейка. Я единственный шпион в мире, которому говорят, когда ложиться спать.
Я откинулась на спинку стула и вздохнула:
- Мне поручено кого-то соблазнить. Школа уже разрушает мой моральный облик, а я еще даже на порог не ступила.
Мама заглянула в досье:
- Думаю, ты хотела сказать "подружиться".
Иногда она такая зануда.
На Юнион-сквер творился настоящий хаос: столько людей и магазинов... Прямо мечта шпиона. Меня бы, наверное, не заметили, даже носись я кругами с воплем: "Я шпион! Я медвежатник мирового класса, и ваша безопасность в моих руках, муа-ха-ха-ха!"
I’m not here to make friends. And that’s the problem. How come I don’t get to make any friends? How come I don’t get to go to a normal school or Halloween parties? How come you just decided all this for me?”
“Because you have a gift!” my mom said. “It’s more than a gift. You have this amazing, one-of-a-kind ability to open locks and safes, and you can use that ability to right wrongs in the world!”
“What if I don’t want to?”
That stopped the room. Even the clock on the wall seemed to stop ticking. “What do you mean, you don’t want to?” my dad said. “This is all you’ve talked about since you were four!”
“I’m not four anymore! Have you noticed? I’m almost seventeen, I’m almost an adult. Why don’t I get to make decisions about my life? What’s so wrong with my making a friend? Or worse, dating a boy? I also wanted to be a veterinarian and a cowgirl when I was four, but things change. Maybe I’ve changed, did you ever think of that?”
It’s like, I have all this luck and wealth and privilege, but who gives a shit? People expect me to be some spoiled brat, so then I act like some spoiled brat—I mean, I stole that book, what a dumbass—but it’s not me at all. And then when I try to act like an upright citizen, volunteer and all that, they accuse me of using my dad’s connections to get ahead. But if I don’t do anything, then my dad gets pissed that I’m not doing anything. And then my mom decides that she’s the one who needs a break from her life. It’s like I can’t get out.”
I had to take a deep breath because I had never heard another person say how I felt. “It’s, like, how can you become an adult when everyone wants you to stay a child?”