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school-assigned buddy.” Her smile brightened. “Think of me as your travel guide to a strange and bewildering country, where the locals are always restless and the bathrooms are impossible to find.” There was an energy to Vivvie, an earnestness that made her very hard not to like.
    “And as your travel guide,” she continued, bringing her right hand to her heart, like she was pledging allegiance, “I am morally obligated to tell you that if we don’t leave now, the Hut will be totally sold out of everything bagels by the time we get there.” She paused to let what I could only assume was the seriousness of that sink in. “You cannot possibly be prepared for your first day at Hardwicke with only
some
things in your morning bagel.”
    I glanced over at Ivy and the headmaster, who’d finally ended their friendly little staring match. Then I turned back to Vivvie. “After you.”

 
    CHAPTER 7
    The Hardwicke Hut was essentially a student-run coffee shop that didn’t serve coffee.
    “Two everything bagels,” Vivvie ordered, with the air of a fairy godmother granting a most elaborate wish. “And do not tell me you’re out,” she told the boy behind the counter. “You are not out of everything bagels. The world would not be so cruel.”
    “We’re not out,” the boy replied. “But there’s only one left. The world is a little bit cruel.”
    Vivvie put on a brave face. “In that case, Tess will have an everything bagel, and I’ll have—”
    “Half of mine?” I suggested. I would have given her the whole thing, but I wasn’t sure she’d take it.
    “I knew I liked you!” Vivvie beamed. As we slid over to await our order, a trio of girls started making their way to the counter. Vivvie mistook my registering their presence as a sign of interest.
    “The one on the left is Maya Rojas,” Vivvie told me, like this was some kind of nature documentary and she was narrating. “She’s a three-sport captain. As a junior.” Apparently, at Hardwicke, that made Maya a person to know. “The one next to her, with the white-blond hair?” Vivvie continued. “That’s Di. She’s from Iceland.”
    “Di?” I repeated. “As in Diana?” That didn’t exactly sound Icelandic to me.
    “Errr . . . no. It’s actually short for something else.” Vivvie tried and failed to sound inconspicuous.
    “What’s it short for?”
    Vivvie hesitated. “It’s Di as in
D
period
I
period. And it’s short for
diplomatic immunity
.” Vivvie had the decency to look a little sheepish. “Di’s father is an ambassador, and her real name is pretty much impossible to pronounce. Plus she never turns down dares. Like, ever.”
    A teenage girl with diplomatic immunity and a fondness for dares.
That won’t end well.
    That just left the third girl. Vivvie didn’t get the chance to tell me anything about her, because a second later, the girl in question spotted us. She cut across the Hut like a homing pigeon.
    “Vivvie, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Without waiting for Vivvie to respond, the girl plowed forward. “I’m Emilia Rhodes.”
    “Tess,” I said. For a moment, Emilia and I studied each other. She was tall, with strawberry-blond hair and eyes that walked the line between green and blue. She wore almost no makeup, except for a light gloss on her lips. “So you’re Ivy Kendrick’s sister,” she said finally. “I thought you’d be taller.”
    “I’ll get right to work on that.”
    Emilia cracked a very small smile. “Hardwicke almost never accepts midsemester transfers,” she said. “Your sister must have pulled some very impressive strings.”
    I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”
    Emilia might have continued cross-examining me, but Vivvie pulled her attention away. “I saw the news about Justice Marquette online,” Vivvie told her. “Have you heard from Henry at all?”
    Emilia gave a brief shake of her head. “Neither has Asher. Henry Marquette isn’t really one for