"Zach," I said as my Culture and Assimilation training kicked in, "this is DeeDee. And Josh. They're …" I started before I realized I had no idea how that sentence was supposed to end.
"We're friends of Cammie's," DeeDee said, saving me.
"Zach and I …" I started, but then somehow couldn't find the words to finish.
"I go to school with Cammie," Zach said, and I marveled for a moment about how smoothly he had lied, before I realized it wasn't a he at all.
"Really?" DeeDee looked confused. "I thought it was a girls' school?"
"Actually, my school's doing an exchange with Gallagher this semester."
Then (and I swear I'm not making this stuff up) Zach slipped his hand into mine!
"Oh." DeeDee's eyes got wide as she looked at Zach, then at me, then at our joined hands. "That's really great!" She beamed, and since DeeDee is about the most un-spylike girl I know, there wasn't a doubt in my mind she was happy for me.
I looked at Zach, trying to see him as DeeDee did. He was sort of tall, and his shoulders were pretty broad. I guess if you have to run into your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend, then there are probably worse kinds of cover. (I know, because my mom told me a story once about the Privolzhsky region of Russia and a very unfortunate hat.) But that didn't change the fact that I was finally with Josh again, but Josh…was with DeeDee. And I was holding the wrong boy's hand.
"Cam," Zach said, and I realized it was the first time he'd actually called me by my name—not Gallagher Girl. It sounded … well…different. "The van's leaving in ten." He nodded at Josh and DeeDee. "It was nice meeting you."
"You too," DeeDee said, but Josh didn't make a sound as we watched Zach go. He'd already turned the corner by the dry cleaners before I realized he had taken the quarter with him.
As little as I liked to admit it, Zachary Goode was officially it.
"Oh…well…I'll let you guys get back to your party plans," I said as I stepped away.
"You could come," Josh called after me. I stopped. "Next Friday. You know, the whole town's gonna be there. You could come if you want."
"And bring Zach," DeeDee hurried to add.
"That sounds like fun," I said, except, if you asked me, a party with Josh and DeeDee and Zach sounded like the kind of torture that had been outlawed by the Geneva Convention. But of course I couldn't say that. Of course I had to smile. And lie. Again.
PROS AND CONS TO BEING A SPY WITH A BROKEN HEART:
PRO: Whenever you feel like punching someone, you can. As hard as you want. For credit.
CON: The person you punch may very well punch you back. Harder. (Especially if that person is Bex.)
PRO: High stone walls and state-of-the-art security greatly reduce the chance of seeing ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend in tremendously awkward social settings.
CON: Advanced training means that your photographic memory is now so reliable that you'll never be able to forget the sight of the happy couple together.
PRO: You're perfectly capable of putting all your old love letters and ticket stubs into a burn bag and hiding it really, really well.
CON: Realizing that, despite everything, you can't set the bag on fire. Not yet.
PRO: Knowing that, no matter what the operation, you can always count on your friends.
"We hate her," Bex proclaimed that night as the four of us walked downstairs for supper.
"No, guys, we don't hate DeeDee," I said.
"Of course you can't hate her—that would be petty," Liz said in the manner of someone who had given it a great deal of thought. "But we can totally hate her."
That sounded great in theory, except… well… DeeDee wasn't exactly easy to hate. I mean—she's the kind of person who dots her I's with little hearts (I know because we found a note from her in Josh's trash last semester), and she wears pink mittens and invites her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend to parties even though she totally doesn't have to. DeeDee was utterly un-hate-able. (And that's what I despised most of all.)
The corridors were virtually empty. Delicious aromas drifted from the Grand Hall as Macey McHenry placed one hand on the railing of the Grand Staircase, turned to me, and said, "We could hack into the DMV and set her up with a dozen unpaid parking tickets."
"Macey!" I cried.