Attack of the BULLIES Read online

  Miss Information blinked.

  “You haven’t thought this out, have you?” the orb asked.

  “Never mind all that! Let’s get started, shall we?” She stopped at a large screen mounted on the wall and tapped a button on its side. It lit up with the image of a pretty girl no more than twelve years old. She had large mahogany eyes and wore a plaid skirt and a matching sweater with a griffin logo.

  “My data bank tells me that this is Tessa Lipton, daughter of the president of the United States,” the orb said.

  “I know. We’re going to kidnap her.”

  “A second search reveals the criminal penalty for kidnapping the child of a government official is life in prison.”

  “Oh, don’t be a party pooper, Benjy,” Miss Information said. “This is going to be superfun!”

  To avoid confusion, Ruby had created a chart to ensure that she was never late for school.

  6:45

  WAKE UP, TURN OFF ALARM CLOCK

  6:50

  TAKE ALLERGY MEDICINE

  6:55

  SHOWER

  7:05

  TOWEL-DRY/ATTEMPT TO DETANGLE KINKY HAIR

  7:10

  CHECK TIME TO MAKE SURE SCHEDULE IS WORKING

  7:15

  GIVE UP ON KINKY HAIR, GET DRESSED

  7:25

  SAY GOOD MORNING TO PARENTS (NOTE: FRANCIS AND SARAH) AND BABY BROTHER (NOAH)

  7:27

  PET THE DOG (TRUMAN) THEN LET HIM OUT THE BACK DOOR TO DO HIS “BUSINESS”

  7:28

  PARTICIPATE IN LIGHT CHITCHAT/BONDING WITH FAMILY

  7:35

  EAT BREAKFAST

  7:50

  DOUBLE CHECK TIME TO INSURE SCHEDULE IS BEING MAINTAINED

  7:55

  FLOSS AND BRUSH

  8:00

  MAKE SECOND ATTEMPT AT DETANGLING HAIR

  8:10

  SURRENDER TO FUTILITY OF KINKY HAIR, GATHER BELONGINGS

  8:15

  PUT ON COAT, BOOTS, HAT, MITTENS, AND SCARF (WINTER SCHEDULE)

  8:20

  MORE CHITCHAT WITH FAMILY; GOOD-BYE HUGS AND KISSES

  8:30

  DEPART FOR SCHOOL

  Unfortunately, her family had a way of smashing her plans with a wrecking ball and then setting them on fire. At 6:55, when she should have been showering, she heard a calamity in the kitchen she could not ignore. Grumbling, she padded through the house and found Sarah burning scrambled eggs while talking on the phone. Francis was attempting to spoon-feed Noah while trying to knot his necktie with his free hand, and Truman, the family terrier, was throwing himself against the back door with a panicked whine.

  Ruby sighed and took charge. She let the dog out. Then she turned and took the frying pan from Sarah, replacing it with a container of orange juice, and spinning her toward the glasses already on the table. The eggs were a lost cause—crunchy and black—so Ruby tossed them in the garbage and cracked a half-dozen fresh eggs into a bowl. She lowered the flame on the stove and beat the eggs with a whisk. After pouring them in a frying pan, she stuffed four slices of bread into the toaster with one hand while rinsing a bunch of grapes with the other.

  She snatched a roll of paper towels off the counter and went to work cleaning the baby food off Noah and everything else within five yards of him. Ruby took the tie from her father, wrapped it around her own neck, and tied it for him. Then she went back to the eggs for a quick stir, tossed some cheese on them, gave them a flip, and served them onto three plates. When the glasses were full of juice, Ruby guided her mother to her seat, then gave her a butter knife and pointed her toward a fresh stack of toast while she poured coffee into both of her parents’ oversize mugs.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?” her father asked her while attempting to insert a spoon full of creamed rice into Noah’s mouth. The little boy’s lips were clamped shut like a vise.

  “Just a little tired,” Ruby said. The truth was she was exhausted and felt like she was shuffling around like a zombie. After her mission on the train, she felt that she needed at least a week of solid sleep to recover, but she couldn’t tell her parents about it. Though she felt icky lying to them, she truly believed that keeping them in the dark also kept them safe. “Try the choo-choo trick.”

  Francis smiled. “What would we do without you, Ruby?”

  “You’d be up to your ears in dirty diapers and the house would be on fire,” Ruby said.

  Just then, she let out a terrible sneeze.

  “Honey, did you take your allergy medicine?” Sarah asked.

  “I’ll take care of it right now,” Ruby said, excusing herself from the table and rushing to the bathroom. She locked the door and squeezed her nose. “Pufferfish here.”

  The principal sounded agitated. “Kid, I need you and the team here pronto. We’ve got a national emergency.”

  “What’s new? I suppose it’s another insane plot by Ms. Holiday?”

  There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end. No one liked to think their biggest enemy had once been one of their best friends.

  “Just hurry, and if you happen to have a pleated skirt, bring it with you.”

  “A pleated skirt?”

  The com-link disconnected.

  The principal sounded panicked. Tired as she was, she knew she had to put her morning into high gear. She opened the bathroom door, prepared to race to her room to get dressed, but she was stopped by her mother waiting on the other side.

  “I need you home on time tonight, Ruby. No excuses,” Sarah said. “The entire family is coming in two days for our annual Hanukkah and Christmas celebration. Grandma Rose and Grandpa Tom, Grandma Tina and Grandpa Saul, Aunt Delynn, Aunt Denise, Aunt Suzi, Aunt Laura, Aunt Emily, Uncle JJ, Uncle Justin, Uncle Eddie, Uncle Kevin, Uncle Jeff, Uncle Christopher, Uncle John, and all your cousins—Kiah, Kiara, Leaf, Finn, Hayley, Tulia, Siena, Danny, Alex, Charlotte, Kate, and Imogen. We have to get ready.”

  Ruby groaned. “All seven thousand of them? They aren’t staying here, are they?”

  “Sure, because I’m trying to blow up the house,” her mother said with a laugh. “You know we can’t keep all the Protestants and Jews in the same house for longer than an hour before a holy war starts. Don’t worry—your father booked them into a hotel. But we’re hosting a couple big dinners here and I want this place spick-and-span. I could also use some of your famous organizing skills.”

  “You’re trying to distract me from this insane inconvenience with my love of making lists,” Ruby grumbled.

  Sarah smiled. “If you want to be in this family, you have to have an appetite for chaos. Come home right after school.”

  “Fine, but I have some rules. The little ones have to stay out of my room. They’re like ferrets going through my drawers, pulling things out, and dragging them all over the house,” Ruby said. “I have a system.”

  “OK.”

  “And I absolutely insist that everyone read the visitors handbook I made for the house, especially the part about how to use the remote control for the television. Remember last year, when Grandpa Saul got his hands on it? Pandemonium.”

  “Deal!” Sarah said, throwing her arms around her daughter and hugging her tight.

  “Mom! Hugging is supposed to happen at 8:20. You’re messing up the schedule!”

  TOP SECRET DOSSIER

  CODE NAME: BIGFOOT

  REAL NAME: PEGGY GRUNT

  YEARS ACTIVE: 1994–99

  CURRENT OCCUPATION: FOREST RANGER

  HISTORY: PEGGY’S AWKWARD

  STAGE, FROM THE AGE OF TEN

  UNTIL FOURTEEN, WAS ONE OF

  THE WORLD’S MOST DISTURBING.

  SHE HAD ARMS THAT HUNG

  NEARLY TO HER FEET AND AN

  UNFORTUNATE UNDERBITE THAT

  RENDERED MUCH OF WHAT SHE

  SAID UNINTELLIGIBLE. SHE CAME

  TO THE TEAM’S ATTENTION AFTER

  SHE WAS CAPTURED BY HUNTERS

  WHILE ON A SCHOOL FIELD TRIP<
br />
  TO COLLECT LEAVES. WHEN THE

  HUNTERS TRIED TO SELL HER TO

  A CIRCUS, NERDS RESCUED

  HER AND OFFERED HER A

  PLACE ON THE TEAM. SHE

  WAS A FAITHFUL SPY UNTIL

  SHE TURNED FIFTEEN AND

  SUDDENLY WENT FROM

  UGLY DUCKLING TO

  SUPERHOT BABE.

  UPGRADE: BIGFOOT PRODUCED A

  PHEROMONE THAT CAUSED BOYS TO

  FALL IN LOVE WITH HER, MAKING

  THEM HIGHLY SUGGESTIBLE TO

  HER REQUESTS.

  The team assembled at the mission desk in the Playground and waited for the principal to arrive. Heathcliff hunkered in the shadows. He knew he was forbidden from taking part in mission briefings, but he just couldn’t help himself. Being a spy was exciting, and it frustrated him that he wasn’t allowed to help. Plus, he wanted to be ready for the day when they invited him back on the team.

  “Another mission?” Matilda cried. “This is ridiculous!”

  “If Ms. Holiday is behind this one, I’m going to scream,” Duncan said. “We just stopped her from melting the polar ice caps last week!”

  “Don’t forget the man-eating plants that attacked Birmingham,” Jackson added.

  “And when she poisoned the world’s supply of corn dogs,” Flinch grumbled.

  “The earthquake machine was no day in the park, either!” Duncan said.

  “They know we’re only twelve years old, right?” Jackson roared.

  Heathcliff understood their frustration. The team had been working eighteen-hour days for months, keeping the world from exploding or falling into chaos. They were understaffed and underappreciated.

  Ruby stood up and raised a hand to calm everyone. She was a natural-born leader and the team’s spokesperson. Heathcliff and Ruby had knocked heads many times when he was on the team, but he always respected her.

  “I’ll handle this,” she said. “The principal will understand. I think that a few staff additions will make a huge difference. We need a gadget tech to teach us the latest stuff coming out of the science team. We need a surveillance expert to go over what’s happening around the world. We need an information specialist and a historian—”

  “—and a new Benjamin!” Duncan said.

  Ruby nodded. “Yes, a new Benjamin would be helpful, plus a pilot for the School Bus now that the lunch lady is the principal. I don’t feel comfortable flying around in a remote-control rocket.”

  “Um, hello?” Jackson said, raising his hand. “I’d be happy to train for that job. I have excellent eye-hand coordination and I look hot in aviator sunglasses.”

  “We can’t have a child flying a supersonic jet,” Matilda said.

  “Oh, but we can have one jumping out of it to fight robots and mad scientists?”

  Just then, the principal walked into the room, and the team turned their anger on him. The five of them were like a pack of angry dogs, yipping and barking at the bewildered man.

  “What in the world is wrong with you people?” the principal asked.

  “We’re tired!”

  “We’re overworked!”

  “We’re frustrated!”

  “We haven’t been in a classroom in months!”

  “The snack machine is out of taffy!”

  Everyone looked at Flinch.

  “Well, it is,” he said defensively.

  Heathcliff knew it was time to act. “Maybe I can help,” he said as he stepped into the light.

  The principal frowned. “Listen, Heathcliff, we’re having a team meeting and—”

  “Just hear me out, OK?” No one argued, so he continued. “I know how to fix this team. You’re outmatched. Ms. Holiday is springing one world-ending scheme after another on you. Some days you even have to split up, which weakens the team. That’s not how this group is supposed to work. The team is falling apart.”

  “Duh!” Matilda said. “Tell us something we don’t know.”

  This was more than Matilda had said to him in weeks, and Heathcliff faultered. They thought he was criticizing them. He had to find the right words to win them over.

  “You guys are the best of the best,” he said. “I believe Ms. Holiday is intentionally trying to wear you out. Her schemes are outlandish and impractical. You’ve stopped most of them without much effort. They’re not supposed to be hard. They’re supposed to be frequent.”

  “No one would know better about end-of-the-world scheming than you,” Jackson said with a chuckle. The others gave him an angry look and he blushed.

  Despite Heathcliff’s ravenous hunger for information about his past, he brushed the clue aside. He had to stay focused on his goal. “What I’m saying is, you could use some help, and I think I can be that help. I want back on the team.”

  An uncomfortable silence filled the room. It was not the response Heathcliff was hoping for, but he wasn’t giving up.

  “You wouldn’t have to train me. I remember all the fighting styles, the code-breaking, even how to free-fall from the School Bus. All you would need to do is put me in the upgrade chair and—”

  The principal shook his head. “Heathcliff, you are helping—by manning the communication link.”

  Heathcliff frowned. “You could have a monkey do that job. You need another agent. I’m smart and have tons of experience.”

  His former friends didn’t have to say no to him. Their faces shouted it from across the room. Why were they so resistant to letting him help? It had to do with the missing year and a half of his life, but what was it?

  “I don’t get it. You let Jackson Jones onto the team. He’s got to be the worst person in the world. No offense.”

  “None taken,” Jackson said.

  “What could I have done that would be worse than the torment he’s been dishing out since kindergarten?”

  “For the record, I think I’ve changed,” Jackson mumbled.

  “Heathcliff, this isn’t the time for this,” Ruby said. “When things have settled down a little, maybe we can talk—”

  “—and until then I’m a prisoner—”

  “You are not a prisoner,” the principal interrupted.

  “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 organi
zed 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.”