“Really? Then I can go home?” he asked, knowing full well the answer would be no.

“Heathcliff, I’ve explained this to you before,” the principal said. “We had to erase your parents’ memory of you.”

“But you haven’t told me why!”

He watched Ruby wrestle with an explanation.

“No one thought you were going to come back,” Matilda said.

“Where did I go?” Heathcliff shouted. He could hear the echo of his anger bounce around the room.

“We’re working on a way to reverse the memory wipe,” the principal said. “Until then, you just have to be patient. What we’re trying to do to your mom and dad has never been done before, and we get only one chance. I assure you it will happen soon, but right now you have to stay here. If you need more books or magazines to keep you occupied, I can—”

Heathcliff threw up his hands. “Books and magazines? No. You know what I need? Some friends!”

He stomped out of the room, desperate to get back to his little cot before he started crying. He felt so useless, so hated, so homesick, and so alone.

“Sugarland Academy,” Ruby said as she and her teammates stood at the entrance to one of the country’s most elite private schools, tucked away on fifty acres in Arlington, Virginia. With high, sweeping glass walls, an observatory, an Olympic-size swimming pool, tennis courts, and a private golf course, it provided every possible opportunity for its students. While the rest of the team complained about the school’s starchy uniforms, Ruby grew more and more envious the more she learned about it. A year’s tuition at Sugarland was almost the same as a semester at Harvard Law School, but the staff was made up of elected officials, former CEOs, and world-renowned scholars. It was also founded by the man who invented the personal organizer. The school’s motto was “An organized mind is the seed of success.” Ruby thought she had died and gone to heaven.

“Why make a school this fancy?” Jackson said, eyeing the building warily. “If the kids who go here are anything like they are at our school, they’ll just cover it in spit wads.”

Ruby shook her head. “These kids aren’t like the baboons we go to school with, Jackson. They pride themselves on being serious. They grow up to run everything.”

“You sound like you’d like to be one of them,” Duncan said as he yanked at his uniform collar.

“I’d never make it here if I had to wear this getup all the time,” Matilda said, struggling with her skirt. “Reminds me of going undercover as a cheerleader. I never want to wear a skirt again.”

“It’s prestigious.”

“It’s itchy.”

“But look, Matilda. There’s a scary griffin sewn onto the sweater,” Jackson said, pointing at the school’s crest in burgundy and gold. “It looks like it wants to murder something and then eat it.”

“Grragggh!” Flinch said, aping a scary monster. The rest of the team laughed.

Ruby scowled.

“I assume everyone saw the Secret Service agents,” the principal said.

“There are a few on the roof, and I saw one in a tree,” Jackson said. “What I wouldn’t give for a carton of eggs right now. There’s nothing so fun as tossing eggs at someone who has climbed up a tree.”

“Yeah, I remember you doing that to me. I just don’t remember it being fun,” Duncan said, rolling his eyes.

“Does everyone know their cover stories? Jackson, your father owns the Cleveland Browns. Duncan, your mother made a fortune on an Internet startup where people could purchase their groceries online. Matilda, your mom is the CEO of Suckerpunch Mixed Martial Arts, Inc., and Flinch, your dad invented Raisinets.”

“Don’t I wish!” Flinch cried.

“Pufferfish, you’re the heir to a squirtable-cheese empire.”

“Huh?”

“Your mission is to protect Tessa Lipton,” the principal said, ignoring Ruby’s confused expression. “Oh, and keep your upgrades off-line.”

“What? No powers?” Matilda cried.

“Not unless you want one of those government workers to go back to the office and tell their bosses that a bunch of kids with superpowers helped keep the president’s daughter safe.”

Once inside, Ruby marveled at the floors, which were waxed to a mirror shine. Photographs of famous Sugarland Academy alumni decorated the walls, many of whom Ruby recognized from the world of politics. Two of them were former presidents. But it was the students who truly impressed her. They walked to their classes in single-file lines, spoke in hushed tones, and behaved like grown-ups. Not one of them had drawn a mustache or a goatee on any of the portraits. There was no goofing off, no pulling pranks, and no shoving people into lockers. Ruby felt like Dorothy Gale, swept away by a twister and dropped into a magical world, except, unlike Dorothy, Ruby didn’t want to go home.

She couldn’t help but feel that this was where she was supposed to be. Sure, she loved her friends, but sometimes she wondered if being a spy was really all it was cracked up to be. Her life was so chaotic, every day a new disaster. Even when they did beat the bad guys, ten more popped up to take their place. Plus, she was missing a lot of classes in order to save the world, and she worried about the long-term effects of going to school without really going to school. Once she turned sixteen, the team would cut her loose to fend for herself, but if she went to this school, the bastion of intellect and planning, she would be prepared for a life of power and prestige. Maybe she should transfer. Sure, she would have to give up her upgrades, but she’d get to go to a school that taught a class on “the art of sitting still”! She wasn’t sure if a person could have a school for a soul mate, but she was certain she was falling in love with Sugarland Academy.

The principal escorted them to the main office, where they met Ms. Turnston, the school secretary. Turnston was a bony woman who couldn’t have weighed more than the paperweight on her desk. Her serious, tight-faced expression seemed to suggest that laughter was something that should be eliminated for the safety of others. Oddly enough, Ruby found the woman’s lack of humor comforting. It was nice to be around people who took life seriously.

“Are these the five new students I was informed would be arriving today?” Ms. Turnston asked sourly.

The principal leaned in close. “Yes, and I hope you’ll use your discretion. These children have very important families.”

The secretary’s frown deepened. “Sugarland’s student body is made up of the upper echelon of the elite of Washington, D.C.,” she snapped. “Discretion is this school’s top priority.”

Her sermon made the principal take a step back. “Very good,” he said, nodding.

The NERDS were required to read and sign several codes of conduct. One strictly prohibited silliness, and another threatened expulsion for “the passing of gas, the picking of boogers, or the digging for earwax.” Ruby saw her friends bristle at all the rules, but she secretly loved them, especially the pamphlet on the proper steps for asking a question.

The principal and the children took a brief tour of the grounds, including the school’s greenhouse, film production studio, art museum, and rock climbing wall, then Ms. Turnston gave them their class schedules and a farewell scowl. “I trust you can find your way from here, and, please, stay off the grass. It’s imported from Iceland.”

“Wow, even the grass is fancy,” Jackson said.

“Remember, no upgrades,” the principal said after wishing them luck. “Don’t let Tessa out of your sight, and stay in touch.”

He slipped away, leaving the children alone.

“We should probably not hang out together,” Ruby told the others. “People will notice that the five new kids are suddenly best friends.”

Matilda nodded. “Makes sense.”

“I’ll keep an eye on the cafeteria. I hear they have a pastry chef on staff!” Flinch said, licking his lips.