Diplomatic Immunity by Brodi Ashton Read Free Book Online

knew what that was like. “And what about you, Faroush?”
    â€œI go where she goes.”
    â€œThat’s commitment for you,” I said. “So, Faroush is an interesting name.”
    â€œIt’s my last name.”
    â€œWhat’s your first name?”
    â€œJohn.” He squinched his nose as if the name disgusted him.
    We ate the rest of our lunches in silence. In literal silence. These people loved their silence.
    Despite my hope for being promoted to scandal or tragedy, my first two weeks at Chiswick were full of fluff pieces like “Most Productive Study Techniques” and “Best Power Foods for the High School Student Brain,” and incredibly short on anything meaty.
    The more I worked with Jesse and the rest of the staff, the more it confirmed my earlier suspicions that Jesse was, indeed, the front-runner for the Bennington Scholarship. He oversaw every editorial meeting, he had the final say as to content and assignments, and the way he convinced Professor Ferguson to run one of the weekly editions in color made me think he could sell beef Popsicles to a colony of vegans.
    I’d hoped he’d see I was “earning my stripes,” but on my third Monday at Chiswick, he handed me yet another dry informational pamphlet, this one about security systems.
    â€œThe school is updating their security. One paragraph and a twenty-second voice-over, please.”
    I tried not to roll my eyes as I opened the pamphlet. Another nothing piece.
    After the meeting broke up, I went to the administration area to interview the principal about the new security systems. He welcomed me into his office.
    â€œMiss Baird,” he said, holding his hand out. “Nice to meet you in person. How are you liking Chiswick?”
    â€œIt’s good,” I said, omitting the fact that I’d received detention from the Beast on my first day. “I wanted to ask you a couple of questions about the new security system.”
    â€œOf course,” he said. He leaned back in his chair and the leather squeaked.
    I sat down and pulled out my notebook. “First off, why are you changing the old system?”
    â€œIt’s always smart to keep everything updated.”
    I nodded and scribbled notes. “And what does the security system entail? What equipment?”
    â€œWell, the intercoms. The telephones. The camera feeds, et cetera.”
    â€œAnd when was the last time you updated the system?”
    â€œUm . . . uh . . .”
    I looked up from my notepad.
    â€œLast year.” He frowned.
    We were both quiet for a moment.
    â€œLast year?” I repeated, the scent of a story prickling at the back of my brain. “I’m all for keeping current, but is it typical to do it so often?”
    He sighed and was suddenly very intrigued by the books on his bookcase. “We have a lot of generous donors. We can afford to be extra vigilant.”
    â€œVigilant? Is there a reason to be extra vigilant at Chiswick?”
    â€œAn administration should always be vigilant.”
    I took a breath and tried to slow things down. “Right. So one last question.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œDo you change the system every single year? In the name of vigilance?”
    He sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re implying, Miss Baird—”
    â€œI’m not implying anything,” I said.
    â€œThe purpose of your story is to educate students about the new system.”
    â€œRespectfully, sir, I disagree. The purpose of any story is the story.” That had sounded better in my head, but I hoped he got the gist.
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œIt means that I follow where the story takes me.”
    He pressed his hands onto the top of the desk. “Look, Miss Baird. There is no story here. It’s a simple system update. That’s it.”
    He stood and ushered me out the door, practically slamming it shut behind me.
    â€œOh,