Protocol: Chameleon

s i x

"Cameron Morgan."

The boy mused with a sly smirk attached to his lips. He then looked around the hall, noticing the astonished gazes on him and turned back to me. "Fancy seeing you here." he then tipped an imaginary hat, just like any other gentleman that falls through the ceiling and brings down a chandelier would do.

Tediously (and quite painfully, by the looks of it), the mysterious stranger got up and limped over to join his schoolmates that stood at the entrance, looking equally as flabbergasted.

My mom, still at the podium, cleared her throat once before continuing, "Right, as I was saying. " she shook her head slightly, "It is with great honor that the Gallagher Academy welcomes the Blackthorne Institute for Boys." she paused, allowing polite applause to fill the hall, as the boys made this way to their seats, now surprisingly unfazed about the whole 'falling out of the ceiling' incident.

"It's a pleasure to invite Dr Steve, up here to say a thing or two about the fine institution."

'Dr Steve', or the frantic red-faced man I had seen fussing over the boys, made his way to the podium, bearing striking resemblance to a sun burnt tomato.

"Please, if you will." He started off by smiling, although it looked more like a grimace. "Call me Dr Sanders."

"The Blackthorne Institute for Boys are flattered by the invitation to experience a learning environment here, at the Gallagher Academy. There's no doubt that, both schools can relate to the excellent curriculum, and perhaps learn something from each other. I'm sure that the girls here would find my students, fitting for this particular field." Dr Sanders eyed everyone calculatingly, forcing Liz to swallow an audible gulp. "Once again, I thank the alumni of this impressive institution for the opportunity to form an alliance. Enjoy the lunch." He finished, handing the microphone back to my mother.

"Thank you, Dr Sanders." The headmistress gave a tight- lip smile. "Please have a seat." She then looked to the crowd. "Ladies and Gentlemen, lunch is served."

~*~

Well technically, lunch was served when the hungry girls broke the supposed tradition and dug in the chef's famous lasagne before the teachers arrived.

But you can't really blame us. Have you tasted the chef's quiche? Exactly.

But I've learned that, technicality rarely applies in this field. Not when you're 16. Not when you go to a school for spies. Not when you sit in Covert Operations, acutely aware of the fact that your teacher is late and that there were no extra chairs lined up.

Several girls sat quietly, patiently, looking at wristwatches every now and then, even if there was no need to.

I, of course, was guilty of this as well.

"That was the fourth time you looked at your watch in the span of fifteen seconds." Bex muttered raising her eyebrows. "Little edgy, are we Cammie?"

I shot her a look. "Edgy is my middle name."

"And here I was thinking it was Ann." She then abandoned all humor in her eyes as she leaned towards my desk asking, "How did you know Blackthorne's name?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked her, feigning innocence.

"Oh, please Cams." She set her lips in an obvious pout and batted her eyelashes in an exaggerated manner. Then putting on what she thought was a seductive tone she said, "Welcome to the Gallagher Academy, Blackthorne Boy." With an added wink.

She shrugged innocently at the blank look I directed towards her.

"That is so not how it went." I turned back to the front, "And besides, it was mentioned."