“What are you doing with that?” I asked, pointing to the bundled pages.
“It’s the CoveOps report you wrote after the whole Josh thing sophomore year,” she whispered. “The one Summer You took to Rome.”
“I know,” I said, pulling the book from her hands. “What are you doing with it?”
“Reading,” Liz hissed and pulled the book back.
“You’ve already read it,” I told her.
“I know.”
“That means you’ve already memorized it,” I reminded her, and Liz rolled her eyes.
“Re-reading can be very beneficial.”
I looked at Bex, who was sitting on Liz’s other side. She raised her eyebrows, and I knew what she was thinking. I’d carried that book to Europe. Of all the tools and devices, resources and gear, I’d taken that. Summer Me might have been on the run, but she wasn’t a fool.
Walking out of class that day, I found myself staring at the entrance to the secret passageway that led to Mr. Solomon’s room.
“You should go see him, Cam,” Zach said, appearing beside me.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted.
“He was your dad’s best friend,” Bex said. “He understands.”
“That’s not it,” I had to say.
Bex crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, blocking my path until I said, “I ran away, Bex. And I got caught.” The plain truth settled down on me. “Joe Solomon wouldn’t have gotten caught.”
It felt as though a wave of seventh graders were washing over us—a tide made of tiny rain-soaked uniforms and backpacks heavier than the girls who wore them. I smashed myself against the wall, huddled with my roommates and Zach, and watched them pass.
“Were we ever that short?” I asked.
Bex looked at me. “You were. I wasn’t.”
“We’re seniors,” I said. Even without the massive memory loss, it seemed like we’d reached that point too quickly.
“When did everything get so. .. complicated?” Liz wanted to know, and suddenly it sounded like a very good question.
“That’s it!” I blurted. “When did everything get complicated?”
“Boston,” Macey said with a shrug.
“No.” Zach shook his head. “I started hearing chatter earlier—that summer. Why?”
“I used to wonder why the Circle wanted me,” I said. “But maybe that was the wrong question. Maybe what I should have been asking was why does the Circle want me now?”
“What does that matter?” Zach asked.
“My dad disa—My dad died.” I forced myself to say it, choking on the word. “He died when I was in the sixth grade, but they didn’t come after me until last year. Why wait until I’m a junior in spy school? Why wait until I can fight back?”
“So either they didn’t need you then…” Liz started.
“Or they didn’t know they needed you,” Macey finished.
“Something changed.” I nodded, unable to shake the feeling that there was something we were missing—that there was something that the girl I’d been in June had already known. “So what was it?”
“Well…” Macey rolled her eyes and started down the rapidly emptying hall. “You discovered boys.”