Spy School by Stuart Gibbs

Author:Stuart Gibbs [Gibbs, Stuart]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781442421820
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

ANALYSIS

The Box

February 8

1600 hours

It wasn’t until I had been perp-walked past the entire student body and locked in the Box for the night that it finally occurred to me to check my phone for messages. Things had been so hectic, I’d never read the text that had alerted Chip to my presence in the first place.

It was from Mike.

Another Pasternak party tomorrow night. Want me to spring you?

A month before, this would have been the greatest message I’d ever received. Now it was only another reminder of how lousy my life was at the academy. Mike was now a regular guest at Elizabeth Pasternak’s, while I’d spent my afternoon being pummeled and manipulated—and was now under lockdown for the next five and a half years. Public school: 1. Spy school: -1,000.

Sure, Mike, I wanted to write back. I’d love for you to spring me. FYI, you’ll need a commando team and a getaway car.

As it was, I couldn’t even fire off a lame excuse about why I couldn’t go. The Box had the Wi-Fi coverage of a coal mine. None.

I might have been less miserable if I’d heard from Erica, but there’d been radio silence ever since the principal’s office. I still had no idea why Erica had made me bait the principal or, for that matter, if she had tracked down the bomb. If she hadn’t, that meant I was now locked on a basement level with a live explosive device.

If it even was a live explosive device. I realized that I’d never gotten a very good look at it. . . .

Although I still could. I suddenly remembered I’d been taking a picture of the bomb right when I got the text from Mike. I quickly dug out Peachin’s Field Guide to Bombs and Other Incendiary Devices and then brought up the photo on my phone.

Turned out, I’d taken a really fantastic picture . . . of the eyepiece of the digital scope. I had no photographic evidence of the bomb at all.

I sighed and flopped onto my bed, feeling depressed and useless. Not to mention imprisoned. Somewhere up on ground level, Zoe and my other newfound friends were probably celebrating their war game victory in a student lounge or practicing kill shots on the firing range. Meanwhile, I was totally isolated.

There was nothing I could do except homework. I cracked open Forsyth’s Basics of Cryptography, read until my eyes went bleary, then looked at my clock and saw it was only four thirty in the afternoon.

Time really crawled when you were on lockdown.

I struggled through another chapter, nodding off seventeen or eighteen times, then checked my clock again.

It was still four thirty in the afternoon.

Either time really crawled when you were on lockdown or my clock was broken.

I checked my phone. In fact, it was eight thirty at night, which explained why I was so darn hungry. No one had come to get me for dinner. I wondered if this was part of my punishment or if the administration had simply forgotten about me.

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