Chapter 1 — Nicholas
There was no one more terrifying than a mother, especially when she had her mind set on something.
At the worst possible time, mine was determined to make me attend school. Not even Tom could sway her, and he was one of the best agents I knew.
Mom set down a glass of milk. “Don’t look so glum, sweetie. Jefferson High is a wonderful school. Won’t it be nice to spend a few months without looking over your shoulder?”
“The Underground’s been getting dangerously active,” I said. “EAGLE needs me to—”
“You’re a fourteen-year-old boy. You should be worrying about making the football team or passing a math test, not taking down a criminal organization. Now hurry, or you’ll miss the bus.”
I slung my backpack over the shoulder. Mom had bought it for me, gushing over finding one with Darth Vader on the back. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I despised it with every fiber of my being. Just because I liked Star Wars did not mean I wanted to broadcast the fact to the entire school.
“Have fun!” she called.
That wasn’t happening anytime soon. I had watched enough TV to know that the new kid always got picked on until they could prove their mettle. It was like initiation in a wolf pack. Unfortunately, everything about my life that could be considered cool was classified.
There were eleven kids at my bus stop, looking dead-eyed and half asleep. Was Jefferson High filled with zombies?
A slender Asian girl flounced up to the curb, a cup of coffee in her hand. Seeing as she was the only person fully awake, I took the plunge.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m—”
She held up her hand and took a sip of coffee. “I don’t care.”
The boy next to me chuckled. “Tough luck, man. I can’t believe you tried to speak to the Cheryl Lin.”
“Is there something wrong with that?” I asked.
He pushed his glasses up his nose and squinted at me like I was an interesting lab specimen. “You’re new, aren’t you? Cheryl’s the most popular girl in school. Her parents are world-renowned scientists who fund practically everything in Jefferson High. The consensus is to keep your mouth shut unless she initiates the conversation.”
The bus pulled up to the stop, the brakes screeching like bats, and the students surged toward the doors in a giant wave.
“I’m Alex, by the way,” the boy called out as the crowd pushed us apart. “That’s a nice backpack you’ve got there.”
I thought he was being sarcastic until I remembered his Empire Strikes Back shirt. The front half of the bus was full, so I claimed a seat at the back instead of trying to squeeze in with someone else.
After a few more stops, many seats had multiple people cramming into them. I felt a little self-conscious about the space beside me. When the bus driver made a left turn, several students murmured in confusion.
The driver smiled at us through the mirror. “We’re making a special stop for a student from one of the inner city communities.”
Cheryl opened her mouth, but the driver continued on. “I know that Jefferson High has a reputation to uphold, Miss Cheryl, but someone pulled some strings for this boy to come here, so I’m afraid it’s all out of our power.”
I wondered what he would look like. Maybe I had been watching too much King of New York because all I could picture was a guy with a buzz cut and tattoos wearing a hoodie.
When the bus jolted to a stop, everyone stood up in their seats.
Instead of tattoos, the boy who got on had a long scar that ran down the side of his face. His blue eyes darted around the bus, searching and assessing, like he was trying to decide if he could take us all in a fight.
I blinked as I realized he had walked right up to me.
“Move over,” he said. “It’s the only empty seat.”
The boy tilted his head back, revealing a pair of wireless earbuds that, last I checked, were far too expensive for anyone living in the inner city to afford. Now that I looked more carefully, the fabric of the shirt appeared to be high quality.
One thing was for sure—there was more to this boy than what met the eye. That made him a person of interest, and in my line of work, interesting often meant dangerous.