SO IT’S TIME TO START YOUR NERDS SECRET AGENT ATHLETIC EXAMINATION. NOW, I REALIZE THAT YOU MAY NOT BE STRONG, FAST, AND AGILE. IN FACT, ONE LOOK AT YOU TELLS ME YOU ARE WEAK, SLOW, AND … WELL, LET’S JUST SAY I HAVE MY DOUBTS YOU COULD LEAP A FENCE. THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO PROVE ME WRONG.

SO, FOR YOUR FIRST CHALLENGE I WANT YOU TO PLACE A BOOK ON YOUR HEAD AND RUN AROUND THE BLOCK.

YES, REALLY.

HERE ARE SOME POINTERS. FIRST, STRETCH YOUR BACK, THIGH, HAMSTRING, AND CALF MUSCLES. THIS WAY YOU WON’T GET A CRAMP AND FALL INTO THE STREET. SECOND, BREATHE IN THROUGH YOUR NOSE AND OUT THROUGH YOUR MOUTH. BREATHING IS IMPORTANT FOR MOST ACTIVITIES. ASK A DEAD PERSON. THEY’VE LEARNED THE HARD WAY. THIRD, RUN AT YOUR OWN PACE. IF YOU CAN FIND THE RIGHT STRIDE, YOU COULD PROBABLY RUN TO CHINA! REALLY. NO, NOT REALLY, BUT THE RIGHT STRIDE WILL TAKE YOU PRETTY FAR. FOURTH, WEAR THE RIGHT SHOES. SNEAKERS ARE BEST. SNOWSHOES ARE NOT. NEITHER ARE COWBOY BOOTS, HIGH HEELS, CLOWN SHOES, BALLET SLIPPERS, OR FUZZY SLIPPERS.

OK, THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW. THE SENSORS WILL RECORD YOUR TIME, AND WHEN YOU GET BACK WE’LL SEE HOW YOU DID.

MAYBE YOU NEED A FEW MORE

PRACTICE ROUNDS. IN THE MEANTIME,

HOW ABOUT A SHOWER? YOU STINK.

Flinch had never met anyone like Principal Dove. Her eyes were as big as dinner plates, and she had a dainty nose and a mouth that seemed to always be open in a perfect circle. When she moved, her whole body shook as if she were ruffling invisible feathers. Flinch felt the impulse to toss her some bread crumbs.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” she said, shaking her head in disapproval. She leaned over her desk and eyeballed each of the NERDS, finally landing on Flinch as if he were some peculiar animal at the zoo. He was already jumpy from the morning’s semi-successful mission in Paris, and the massive sugar shock from the Heart Attack Bar was still taking a toll on his nerves. Her scolding smile didn’t help.

“Late on the first day?” she asked.

Flinch looked to Pufferfish. Her real name was Ruby Peet, and as the team’s official leader, she usually called the shots and did the talking. That’s how Flinch liked it. The others were quick with their thoughts. He was quick with his feet.

“We missed the bus,” Ruby lied.

“All five of you?” Ms. Dove said, her smile widening. “Well, that must be quite a story. What happened?”

“Oh, um—it’s just one of those mornings,” Jackson said, flashing his biggest grin. Even with his braces he had a charming smile, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

“Now, you wouldn’t be trying to pull my leg, would you?” Dove said with a giggle.

The children looked at one another. It was clear to Flinch that none of them knew what to say, and despite the principal’s smile, the tension in the room was building by the minute. What were they supposed to tell her—that they were spies? That they had little robots inside their bodies that gave them superpowers? That they had flown to Paris that morning and stopped a lunatic from destroying the city, yet managed to create nearly a billion dollars in damage in the process?

Back at Nathan Hale Elementary the team occasionally encountered a teacher who asked questions about the sudden and frequent disappearances of the children, but somehow Agent Brand and Ms. Holiday made it all go away. Then again, back at the elementary school they were taught by Mr. Pheiffer, who spent most of his time talking about his tan. A tornado could have swept through his class and he wouldn’t have batted an eyelid. Their old principal, Dehaven, could be difficult, but he enjoyed bullying his staff a lot more than he did the children. So for the most part, the members of NERDS came and went as they pleased.

It appeared as if all that was going to change.

“It seems a rather odd coincidence that all five of you missed the bus this morning,” the new principal said. “It boggles the mind.”

“Actually, the odds of such a thing happening are really not that far out of the realm of possibility,” Duncan said. “If you consider the distance of the bus stop to our neighborhood as well as the average speed in morning traffic—”

Ms. Dove put her finger to her mouth. “Shhhhhhhhh!”

She stared at the children for a long moment with a smile on her face, as if what she read in their eyes was amusing. Flinch knew that she couldn’t read their minds, but he covered his ears just in case that was how the woman accessed his thoughts.

His blood sugar was still out of whack. Something sweet would calm him down, so he reached into his pocket and took out a Chocolate Coconut Bomb Bar he’d grabbed when he got back to the Playground. He tore it open and chomped down with delight. Yum! It was like heaven inside his mouth, and he was starting to feel better when, suddenly, with a hand faster than lightning, Ms. Dove snatched the treat from his hand and tossed it into the wastebasket next to her desk. Flinch shrank back in horror. His treat was covered in paper clips, dust balls, and a few thumbtacks. It took every ounce of self-control not to shriek.

“Mr. Escala, our school has a ‘no junk food’ policy,” she said. “There is no junk food of any kind anywhere on my campus. No candy bar or soda machines. No sugary treats at lunch. Not a single drop of chocolate milk in the cafeteria. Little birds need healthy food to fly.”

“Uh-oh,” Matilda said.

And that’s when Flinch’s shriek escaped. No candy machines? No soda pop? What kind of a madhouse was this woman running? Someone had to be alerted. When he finally stopped screaming, he reached for his phone. He had the president’s number on speed dial—he would help! But before Flinch could hit the number, Matilda reached over and gave the knob on his harness a twist. The harness captured some of his energy and he managed to calm down a little.

“Children, I know the first day in a new nest can be confusing,” Principal Dove said.

“Nest?” Ruby asked.

“There are so many new and strange birds in the air, and I like to keep a careful eye on the hatchlings.”

“Hatchlings?” Duncan asked. “Are you talking about us?”

“Some birdies need a lot more attention than others. Some birdies need to be placed under the strong, watchful wing of a mama bird. I’m thinking that you five might need that wing hovering over you, keeping you safe and watching every move you make.”

“Does she think we’re really birds?” Flinch whispered.

“I think so,” Jackson replied.

“It all depends on you and what kind of birdies you are. Are you the kind that can fly free, or the kind that need to be in a cage?” Ms. Dove asked the group.

“Um … we’re free birds?” Pufferfish said.

Ms. Dove clapped her hands. “I’m as happy as a hummingbird. I’d hate for you to leave the nest not knowing how to fly.”

She handed each of the children a piece of paper.

Flinch looked down at his. “What’s this?”

“They are your new class schedules. I took a quick look at your files and noticed that all five of you have the same classes at the same time. That’s not good for little birdies, especially ones that need to stretch out and meet other members of our flock. So I made some changes.”

Flinch looked at Pufferfish again. This time the team leader wasn’t so calm. Her hand swelled to the size of a small pumpkin. She was allergic to logistical nightmares. Keeping the NERDS together in one class made it easy to reach them quickly. What would they do now?