I am so not Sydney Bristow. I could not even pass as Sydney Bristow's teenage sister. I am, at best, that nerdy, clumsy Marshall guy who rigs up all the computer gadgets and spy gear for Sydney and her spy pals.

This is a depressing thing to find out about yourself.

Sydney and I could not be more different if we tried. Consider the evidence: Sydney knows at least a hundred freakishly complex foreign languages. Whether traveling to the Ukraine or Uzbekistan, she's conversing like a pro. I, meanwhile, got a C plus on my last French test. Not good. And why did I sign up for a boring old language like French in the first place? Why didn't I sign up for one of Cop-a-Feel High's more exotic offerings, like Russian or Chinese?

Further proof that I am no Sydney: I am the world's biggest klutz. I can barely walk five feet without tripping. There's no way I could rappel down the side of some eighty-story building on a wire, or jump out of a plane and tackle a bad guy. And Sydney is always defusing some nuclear bomb—hello, I at chemistry. Not to mention the way she's always kicking some guy's beneath the strobe lights of a dance club. I'm not even old enough to get into dance clubs. I suppose I could weasel a fake ID, like the one Chanhee has, but no one would believe it. I'm so short and scrawny I can barely pass for sixteen—which is my actual age. There's no way anyone would believe I was twenty-one. Tiffany Hwang, maybe, but not me.

Come to think of it, Tiffany would make a terrific secret agent. She's sly, she's a great liar, she's a primo athlete, and she's got killer good looks. Great, just great. As if I needed noe more reason to feel inferior to Tiffany. Now not only am I jealous of her awesome body and her surpreme confidence, I'm green with jealousy over her super spy potential, too.

Things only get worse the next morning before school. It's pouring rain outside, so Mom drops us off on her way into work. This means we get there twenty minutes early. Usually, I like getting there early because it gives me time to catch up with Inyoung before homeroom. But since our fight at Pike's Pizza yesterday, I don't know where things stand.

I catch sight of Inyoung as soon as Chanhee and I get out of the car. She's standing by herself under the awning over the front door, playing with her cell phone. I give her a tentative wave as we approach. She waves back. I turn to Chanhee. "I'm going to go talk..."

I don't get a chanhe to finish my sentence. "I'll give you some privacy," Chanhee says, heading into the school.

"Hey," I say, sidling up to Inyoung.

"Hi." She tucks her cell phone in her pocket.

We stand there in silence for a minute, and then I take the plunge. "Look, I'm really sorry about what happened at Pike's. I never meant to hurt your feelings. Chunji and I were supposed to go to the arcade for a little while, and then Tiffany strong-armed her way into our afternoon. It definitely wasn't planned. I would never, ever, ever ditch you for Tiffany Hwang. She big time. She's not my best friend—she's not even a friend at all."

"I'm sorry too." Inyoung gives me a crooked smile. "I know you better than that. I was PMSing big time and I kinda overreacted." We share a brief hug. "So what was it like being on a date with Lee Sungyeol?" she squeals.

Suddenly, I feel shy. "Well, it wasn't exactly a date."

"It sure looked like one," she says, grinning. "Go you!"

"It was pretty exciting." I fill her in on all the details and Inyoung listens intently. It's so great having my best friend back. Even though our fight was brief, it felt awful.

I lean over and give her an impromptu hug. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

"Yay, you made up!" Chanhee says, coming up behind us. He's holding a small plastic baggie with a Pop Tart inside.

"Hey, where'd you get that?" I ask. Last time I checked we didn't have any Pop Tarts at my house.

"I found it," Chanhee says. "It was in my locker, along with a note that said, 'Eat me.'"

He opens it up and prepares to take a bite. I feel a rush of panic coming over me. If there's one thing I've learned from all my spy training, it's that you don't eat suspicious food! It could be poisoned. "Chanhee, no!" i shriek, grabbing hold of his arm. I pull as hard as I can, trying to fling the Pop Tarts out of his hands. I yank with such force that Chanhee goes toppling over. He stumbles forward a few feet, trying to regain his balance, and steps into the faculty parking lot, his body inches away from a moving car.

The driver honks the horn and Chanhee lea[s backward into the safety of the front lawn. He quickly rejoins Inyoung and me under the awning, but it's too late. He's soaking wet. The Pop Tart lies crumbled on the ground. Thank God for small favors.

"What was that?" Inyoung asks, her eyes wide. "You practically threw him in front of a moving car!"

"I was trying to, um, help." I try to explain.

Chanhee is staring at me with a horrified expression on his face, but he doesn't say anything.

"Yikes, don't ever try to help me," Inyoung says, shaking her head in disbelief. "You might get me killed instead."

"I wanted to protect Chunji," I say defensively. "It's not a good idea to eat suspicious food."

"Suspicious food?" Inyoung asks. "It was a Pop tart. There's no nutritional value, but other than that it's pretty harmless."

"We don't know who left it. It could be some kind of prank. Remember when you drank Gatorade spiked with Ex-Lax?"

It's a good save. Now Inyoung takes my side.

"You're right," she says, the light bulb going off in her head. "Don't eat weird stuff," she lectures Chanhee. "You never know who's tampered with it."

"I know who left it," Chanhee says, regaining his composure. "It was Tiffany."

"Yuck." Inyoung groans. "In that case, don't touch it with a ten-foot pole. Tiffany once spiked my Gatorade with pooping pills," she tells Chanhee. "That girl is evil."

Chanhee's not convinced. "Tiffany's a really sweet girl," he says. "I seriously doubt she would do something like that."

Before I can object, the first bell rings, so we head into the school. I'm kind of glad for the distraction. Chanhee seems pretty sold on Tiffany and I don't know if I want to badmouth her anymore. It's just not my style. Chanhee goes upstairs to his homeroom and Inyoung and I head toward our lockers.

"Heejoon, I have to be honest here. There's something I don't get," Inyoung says, eyeing me suspiciously. "Right before you pushed Chunji into the parking lot, you did something really weird."

My pulse quickens. "I did?"

"Yeah." She stop in her tracks and looks at me dead in the eyes. "You called him Chanhee."

- - -

Hahaha. I'll keep it really short 'cause I'm watching Gag Concert. Hihi.