The Art of Saving the World

things back to normal; these changes were putting me on edge.
“I wasn’t sure what you wanted.” Neil pushed a wrapped package my way. It turned out to be the first book in that rich-girl spy series that’d been turned into a movie last summer. “I hope you haven’t read it yet?”
“I haven’t!” I grinned wide. “I wanted books for winter break. And this looks great! Thanks!”
Imani gave me a set of soft purple gloves, which she seemed embarrassed about but which I loved; Amber-Lynn, a fifteen-dollar gift card to Zara that I hoped was redeemable online since the nearest brick-and-mortar store was twenty miles away; and Marybeth, a massive bag of sour belts, which must’ve made me blush like a traffic light.
Marybeth McKellan was way too cool to be at my birthday party, and Marybeth McKellan knew my favorite candy. I managed to be semi-smooth about thanking her, which was a relief, because since her dance performance at school last September, I apparently could no longer talk to her without stammering. I had that in common with half the guys in our class, but Marybeth probably knew it wasn’t the same thing.
(I hoped she knew.)
(I didn’t always know.)
I passed the sour belts around and was happy for the distraction when Carolyn handed me her gift. A framed original drawing by my favorite comics artist. I squealed loudly enough to make patrons across the diner look up, which turned my face beet red a second time.
I normally didn’t celebrate birthdays with friends; you could only have so many birthdays at the mini-golf course before becoming That Weird Mini-Golf Girl. An evening at Franny’s seemed like a good option, except, crap, maybe now they’d be expecting me to come to their birthday parties, far outside of my radius. My mouth suddenly felt dry. I grabbed my milkshake, sucking down a large gulp. Maybe I should’ve ditched the idea of a party. Sixteenth or not.
“Food!” Carolyn cried as our waitress approached.
We stuffed our bellies with burgers and fries that were just the right kind of juicy and crispy, and I urged everyone to order more. Maybe it’d somehow make up for me not attending their parties in return. Afterward, Franny put on a thumb drive with music Caro and I had selected, but no one did more than nod along.
A real birthday party had dancing, didn’t it? I mean, not my parents’ parties, but they were old, and not Carolyn’s West Asherton birthday parties, but I bet her real parties in Philadelphia with her friends were different. Parties always had dancing in the movies. Characters our age were always slung over couches or flirting in the kitchen or passing around illicit beer; the six of us having burgers at a diner, wrapping paper strewed all around, might as well have been a ten-year-old’s party. I doubted anyone was impressed. Marybeth spent more time talking to Neil than to me.
I’d dressed up in my tightest jeans and a new shirt, bringing out whatever slight curves I had. I’d even put on lip gloss. All of a sudden that effort felt like I was embarrassing myself.
I looked at the clock. Eight forty-one.
“We missed it!” I blurted out. “Four minutes ago. That’s when I was born.” I smiled sheepishly. It was dorky to care about the exact minute, but still. Sixteen.
“Happy birthday!” Imani and Amber-Lynn shouted as one, then laughed. “Well, again,” Imani added.
“For real this time,” Amber-Lynn clarified.
“Will you get your license?” Neil asked. “Man, I’d love to drive down to Philly whenever I wanted.”
“Or even just to school!” Carolyn said, which I was grateful for.
“I’d love to get my license,” I lied. “I still need to convince my parents. You know how parents are.”
“I know, right?” Marybeth said. “Mine—”
I never found out about Marybeth’s parents, as two things happened then.
One, Franny butted out of the kitchen, carrying a sorbet with a lit sparkler. Two, the doors of the diner slid open and Agent Anne Valk entered, her suit entirely out of place beneath the fluorescent diner lights.
I froze.
MGA agents never interfered with my life outside the grounds. Never. It was one of the cardinal rules, both theirs and ours. Ours, because we wanted to protect my small imitation of normalcy, and theirs because they didn’t want anyone wondering why suspicious adults were always following me around town.
But Agent Valk stood right there, flanked by huge cardboard Coke bottles. She gave a nod, indicating the parking lot.
Now? I mouthed. I still had at least twenty minutes before my time was up! And my friends were just starting to relax! It’d been hard enough figuring out what to talk about that wasn’t the base.
Valk nodded. Now.
The rift occasionally rumbled even when I stayed within my radius, but rarely so badly that I needed to return home. So much for my birthday. I nodded back to let her know I understood—that way, she could go wait in the van before my friends noticed her. I’d need a minute to disentangle myself without raising questions.
Why hadn’t Valk texted me? We had a protocol.
“Happy biiiirthday,” Franny sang, approaching the table with the lit sorbet. Two waitresses joined in, and so did my friends, Amber-Lynn loudest of all. My mind churned with possible excuses. Maybe I could fake cramps?
Right as Franny put down the sorbet, Valk stood by my side. I jolted upright. “What—?”
“Now.”
Everyone stared at Valk. The woman embodied the concept of “government agent”: the suit, the furrowed brow, the efficient cut of her black hair. If they looked closer, they could see the gun bulge under her jacket, too. It was an oddly impressive combination, but Valk’s personality had long destroyed my admiration.
“Where’s Dad?” I asked.
“He’s been alerted.”
He’d said he’d stay nearby. But they couldn’t wait for Dad to subtly escort me out?
Something was wrong.
Something was really, really wrong.
Valk grabbed my arm and dragged me off. “Hazel’s mother requested her presence,” she said over her shoulder. “Enjoy your evening.”
“I’m coming!” Carolyn said.
“No.”
I reached to grab my presents, although