Going Rogue (4 page)

“Mags!” he cried, dropping his bag on the ground as I squeezed him tighter. “Mags, um, you’re a little—okay, ow.”

“I missed you!” I said. “I just missed you, that’s all!”

“Yeah, right.” Jesse wasn’t fooled for a minute. “That’s why you’re trying to crush me. Here, come here.” He managed to extract himself from me, then drew me into a hug, right under the constellations painted onto the ceiling. “What’s the matter? Did something happen?”

I shook my head. “I’m just glad you’re here. I told you, I missed you.”

Jesse kissed the top of my head and I hugged his waist so hard that I could feel his ribs. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m all right.”

“I don’t think this kind of kung fu grip in the middle of a train station counts as ‘all right,’” he pointed out. “But maybe that’s just me.”

“I’m the worst girlfriend ever!” I said. “I was supposed to be all happy to see you and instead you got a clingy person.”

“I happen to like
clingy people
,” he replied, hugging me a bit tighter. “Especially when they’re named Maggie and look as cute as you. C’mon, what happened? Did you and Roux get into a fight or something?”

Roux! I hadn’t even thought about leaving Roux behind!

“Maggie?”

“I just really love you!” I cried, my voice muffled against his shoulder. “Like, a whole lot!”

I could feel his laughter vibrating in his chest even as he stroked my hair. “I love you, too, weirdo,” he murmured. “No need to strangle me over it.”

We stood tangled together for a few minutes, tourists and commuters bumping into us, but Jesse didn’t move and I certainly had no plans to stop hugging the hell out of him. He smelled like shampoo and detergent (a different one than when he was at his dad’s house) and trains, and I wondered if I was committing him to memory, if I was hanging on so tight because one day soon I wouldn’t have anything to hang on to at all.

“C’mon, turn around,” Jesse said once my hug started to loosen up a little. “Look at this awesome ceiling with me.” He turned me around in his arms and hugged me from behind while pointing toward the blue-and-gold
ceiling. “Look, isn’t it beautiful? Does that make you feel better?”

It wasn’t the ceiling that was making me feel better, it was Jesse, but I nodded anyway. “It’s really pretty,” I admitted while trying to wipe at my nose without looking disgusting about it.

Jesse kissed the side of my head and held me tighter. “Did you know,” he said quietly, “that the ceiling is actually reversed? It’s supposed to look like it should if you were standing under the stars, but instead it looks like you’re above them. It was this big screw-up, but the designer just said that that’s how God sees the sky.”

“The God excuse is pretty hard to argue,” I allowed.

“Right?” Jesse rested his chin on top of my head and pointed again. “Look. Orion is the only one that’s in the right place.”

“The hunter,” I said softly.

“Just like you and how you used to hunt down the bad guys. Always in the right place at the right time.”

I took a deep breath and turned around to face Jesse. “Kind of,” I said. “I don’t think I’m quite as badass as Orion.”

“Well, he was actually killed by a scorpion, so you know.” Jesse shrugged. “I don’t think that’s
really
badass.” He smiled down at me. “Better now?”

I nodded and tried to wipe at my nose again. “I’m snotty. Sorry.”

“You’re disgusting, frankly,” he teased. “It almost makes me want to not do this.” He bent his head and kissed me
and I could taste him on my lips. Coffee and spearmint gum and just
him
. “Missed you,” he whispered against my mouth. “A lot.”

“Missed you, too.” I reached up to kiss him again, harder this time. “You know I love you, Jesse, right?”

He nodded and pushed my hair out of my face. “Of course you do. I’m amazing. Apparently, I’m a
catch
. That’s what my grandmother told me last weekend. I don’t want to go on about it.” He pretended to brush invisible dirt off his shoulder.

“Your grandmother?” I repeated.

“Are you calling her a liar?” Jesse raised an eyebrow. “That’s pretty low, calling your boyfriend’s grandmother a liar.”

I laughed despite myself. Laughing after crying always felt better than just laughing. Why does life have to be so terrible that way? “No, she’s right,” I told him. “You’re a catch. Glad I threw my line out there.”

Jesse smiled and kissed me again, and this time, I smiled back at him. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s go talk, okay? You can tell me why you’re Huggles McGee all of a sudden.”

“Our place?”

“Our place,” he agreed, then picked up his bag with one hand while putting his arm around my shoulder. “Lead the way, lady.”

We stopped at Jesse’s apartment long enough for him to drop off his bag, yell hello to his dad, and give his golden retriever, Max, a few tummy rubs before heading out hand in hand to our place, Gramercy Park.

Gramercy Park was the first place I had ever learned to pick gate locks. The only people who have access to the park are those who live directly on its borders, but when I was four years old, Angelo taught me how to crack the lock, and it was the place we met whenever we were both in the city at the same time.

On Jesse’s and my first date, I brought him here because he had never been inside the park before, and we just kept coming back. It was our little secret, not only from our friends and family, but from the rest of the city, as well. There aren’t many places in New York where you can find privacy, and as a spy I enjoyed some privacy every now and then.

Especially when it was with Jesse.

It took me only a few seconds to pick the lock this time.
“That never gets old,” Jesse said after I popped it open. “Seriously, that’s really hot. Do it again.”

“Maybe I’ll just talk to you about cobalt shields and Master Locks,” I teased, lowering my voice into what I hoped was a seductive tone.

“What’s wrong with your voice?” he asked, then grinned as I laughed and pretended to punch him in the stomach as we made our way to our favorite bench, right under the pagoda birdhouse.

“Don’t poop on me, stupid pigeons,” I warned them as we got settled. “Little disease-filled wingbags.”

“You sound like Roux,” Jesse said. “She’s got issues with those birds.”

“She has raised some excellent points,” I countered, then rested my head on his shoulder and relaced his fingers with mine. It was twilight, my favorite time in the New York summer, when the sky looks as purple as the jacarandas in Los Angeles and the buildings are just starting to light up. The heat was still bad, but not as stifling as it had been earlier that afternoon, and I felt Jesse squeeze my hand and rest his head on top of mine.

“So,” he said. “What was with all the emotion back at Grand Central? You want to tell me?”

I shook my head. “Not right now. Can we just … sit? Just like this.”

“Of course.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand and I closed my eyes, happy to be still for a few minutes while the city raced around us.

It was almost full dark when I finally spoke again. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s good. Really into yoga and pottery. I think she’s got about ten coffee mugs that she made in class, but only one of them holds water.” He laughed a little, a laugh that I heard only when he came back from his mom’s house. It was easy and soft, like he could relax now that he knew his mom was happy. “But all the mugs look alike and she won’t get rid of any of them, so it takes a while to figure out which mug actually works.”

I smiled, pressing my head against his shoulder. “Sounds chaotic.”

“And wet. But she’s good.” Jesse threaded his fingers through mine and lifted our hands up so he could look at them. “I told her more about you. Not the spy stuff, but just … you know. About you. And us.”

I could feel my heartbeat start to quicken. “And? She was cool with it?”

“More than cool, actually. She thinks you’re smart. And pretty. And—”

“Aw, stop it some more.” I grinned and kissed the back of his hand. “Did you tell her I’m good at
Jeopardy!
, too? And a whiz in the kitchen?”

“Yes and definitely no. I think that made her like you more.” He kissed the top of my head and kept his lips pressed against my hair. “She wants to see you again.”

I’ve been through some scary situations in my life, but making a habit of seeing my boyfriend’s mother was not one of them. “Oh.”

“Is that okay? Are you allowed to do that?”

“Do what?”

“See her again. Can you meet people twice?”

“Spy-wise? Yeah, I think so. I don’t see why not.”

Jesse paused before saying, “And Maggie-wise?”

“Maggie-wise, I don’t know. What if she doesn’t like me this time? What if last time was a fluke?”

“Weirdo. Why wouldn’t she like you? You’re awesome.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I replied.

“Your parents like
me
,” Jesse pointed out. “Why wouldn’t my mom like you? My dad likes you.”

“Your dad’s so busy that he probably doesn’t even remember meeting me.”

“What? How can you even—okay, yeah, you’re probably right. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you. Believe me, if he didn’t like you, he’d remember you.”

“How completely not comforting.”

It wasn’t just seeing Jesse’s mom again that made me nervous, though. It was the idea of having another tether to the city, another person to leave if we had to go. I knew Jesse had been pretty devastated when his mom moved to Connecticut, and I couldn’t bear to hurt him the same way.

“So you’ll have dinner with us when she comes into the city next week?” Jesse asked.

“Of course,” I said, not letting myself think about whether or not I would actually be in the city by that point. “Hey. While we’re talking about important things …”

“Hmm?” Jesse squeezed my hand. “You have an important thing?”

“Pretty important, yeah.”

“Okay. Out with it.”

I took a deep breath. “The Collective is investigating my parents.”

Jesse sat up so fast that my head fell off his shoulder. “They’re what?” he said. “What?”

“Well, not
investigating
them, exactly. But they’re saying that my parents stole evidence after finishing a case, and that’s grounds for expulsion from the Collective.”

Jesse looked upset, confused, and furious all at the same time. “Does this have to do with …
him
, though?” The name Colton Hooper didn’t exactly inspire good feelings around us. “I don’t get it.”

I bit my lip before answering. “Angelo and my parents say it’s not true, but I think the Collective is mad that I exposed Colton for being a double agent.”

Jesse looked at me as if I was speaking Martian. “What?” he finally said. “How … ? Why … ? What the
hell
is wrong with them? Why are they mad at
you
? They should be throwing you a goddamn parade!”

“I know,” I admitted. “Something’s wrong, but I don’t know if it’s the Collective or something else. I don’t know and I
hate
when I don’t know something, by the way.”

“Believe me, I’m aware.” Jesse stood up and started to pace back and forth in front of our bench. “And you can’t go to the police.”

“Nope. Too many spies would be exposed. It’d be a disaster.”

“But Mags, what if Colton Hooper wasn’t the only bad spy? What if there are more?”

I looked up at him. I knew I couldn’t tell Jesse anything
about the ex-Collective members, about how Angelo was investigating their claims. I had started our relationship by lying to him and I didn’t want to do that again.

But if it meant keeping Jesse safe, I would do anything.

“When were you going to mention this?” he said. “Here I am, talking about my mom and dinner and it turns out that you’ve got all this happening! When did you even find out?”

“Just today. And you’re always so happy when you talk about your mom, I didn’t want to stop you.”

Jesse took a deep breath, then pinched the bridge of his nose. I had seen his dad do the same thing during press conferences or late-night television interviews. The Oliver family gesture. “So what are you going to do?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Prove them wrong and show them that my parents didn’t do anything. And hopefully not piss them off.
Again
.”

Jesse stopped pacing and stood directly in front of me. I could see realization moving across his face, the understanding of why I had been so emotional at Grand Central. “Oh, I get it,” he murmured. “You might have to leave.”

I bit my lip and glanced at the street, unable to look at his face for much longer. “Maybe.”

“Maybe.”

“Going rogue sometimes means
going
.” I tried to play off the words as funny, but neither of us was laughing. “I don’t want to, though. I want to stay here with you and Roux and my …” My voice caught and I fought to bring it back. “And my parents. And Angelo and school and everything.
It’s our senior year. I want to apply to colleges and go to homecoming with you—is that a thing? A homecoming dance?”

Jesse nodded.

“Well, I want to do all of that. But this is my family and this is who I am. Remember I told you, I have dozens of passports but at the end of the day, all those girls are me.” I tried to smile at him, but it felt wobbly. “You fell in love with a spy. Sucks for both of us.”

Jesse gave me a small, rueful smile before coming to sit back down next to me. “Can’t Angelo just solve it?”

“We’re all working on it,” I said. “But chances are good that my parents are going to be cut off and everyone in the Collective probably knows that Angelo’s practically like my uncle, so they’ll cut him off, too.”

“Then won’t they cut you off?”

“Even if that happens, I don’t need technology to do what I do.”

Jesse let it all sink in as I curled back up next to him. “If I have to leave,” I whispered, “I promise I’ll come back.”

“What if you can’t?” Jesse put his arm around my shoulders and I drew my knees up to my chest. “What if they kill you?”

“Oh my God, they’re not going to kill me,” I scoffed. “We
stop
killers. It’s sort of our thing.”