He turned a bright shade of pink, and I could feel my face turning much the same color.
“Sorry,” I said, completely straight-faced. “There was a fly.”
And then I did what any self-respecting pseudogirl wouldhave done. I turned on my heels and walked as fast as I could out of the store. For Tara’s benefit, I even put a little shake in my hips.
She caught up with me halfway to the food court.
“I cannot believe you just did that,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”
I couldn’t tell whether she was fighting down anger or hysterical laughter. “What was that?” she asked.
“That,” I said simply, “was misdirection.”
CHAPTER 12
Code Word: Gel Bra
“So … where to now?”
Tara hadn’t said a word about whether or not my butt-slapping performance, which she’d somehow “transmitted” to our superiors, had passed Squad scrutiny. This was my not-so-subtle attempt to see if we were ready for our real mission, or if I was about to be fired for sexual harassment.
Tara stirred her iced mocha (with caramel swirl) with one hand and looked down at her watch. “It’s time,” she said. She stood up, neatly tucked a wayward strand of dark hair behind her left ear, and picked up the mocha to leave.
“Time for what?” I kept my voice low. This was the mall, and who knew what kind of bizarre and twisted enemy forces were lurking around every corner.
Yeah, right.
Tara took another sip of her mocha and then threw it into the trash can, still half-full. I crumpled my empty cup into a ball and tossed it in after hers. She gave me a look, and Igot the impression that cup crumpling wasn’t a preapproved cheer girl course of action.
“Come on,” Tara said. I followed her.
“Time for what?” I asked again.
Tara’s eyes flitted to the side, and I got the distinct feeling that she was checking our surroundings.
“Time to get to work,” she said, likethatwasn’t vague.
“Work,” I repeated. By this time, we’d left the food court, and she was a girl on a mission. Literally.
When she stopped in front of a lingerie store, I gave her a look of my own.
“Victoria’s Secret?” I asked dryly. “Really?”
Tara smiled, and her eyes told me not to argue. “Shop for underwear now,” she told me. “Ask questions later.”
“Blink once if there’s a purpose to all of this.”
I was expecting another look, but instead, I got a smile and a slow, deliberate blink.
“Okay then,” I said. “Underwear shopping. Lucky me.”
Five minutes later, I couldn’t even manage a sarcastic yay. There are certain things that should never be stuck onto underclothes. The list (and believe me, it’s extensive) includes, but is not limited to: bows, chains, rhinestones, ribbons, ruffles, feathers, and anything that spells out the wordskiss me.Call me old-fashioned, but I like my underpants plain and simple. And sometimes I like to call them underpants, but that’s beside the point.
My arms full of offending articles, I trudged toward the dressing room. As soon as we got back to the Quad, I was going to kill Tara.
“Cheer up, Tobe,” the traitor in question said. The doublemeaning behind her words wasn’t lost on me, but I wasn’t exactly in the mood to put a little more pep in my step.
