1 Six months ago, after my friends and I nearly got ourselves killed in a secret treasure vault hidden in an abandoned amusement park, I thought things would go back to normal. I'd return to being plain old Gina Sparks, freckle-­faced and fact-­loving journalist--­the girl with a notebook in her hand and a pencil in her hair bun. My three best friends--­Elena Hernández, Edgar Fein­garten, and Kevin Robinson--­would settle back into their normal routines. I figured the treasure-­hunting excitement was over. Man, was I wrong. Really, the only thing that returned to normal was middle school lunch. The French fries were still soggy, the milk was still fresh from the cows at Feingarten Family Farms, and--­of course--­Sophina Burkhart still couldn't leave us alone. "GEEKs!" Sophina called, though not in the mean way she used to do before she and Kevin became sixth-­grade class co-­presidents. I looked up from jotting notes in the leather-­bound journal I always carry with me. I'd pretty much gotten used to the GEEKs label, but, well, it was kind of unfortunate that Sophina had figured out that putting the first letter of my name together with Elena's, Edgar's, and Kevin's spelled out GEEK. Sophina sauntered over to our table, followed by her typical pack of minions--­Kyesha Killman, Bella Ronelli-­Compelli, and Mandy Sykes. Sophina's usually straight, shoulder-­length blond hair had been curled on the ends and bounced with every step, and her lips glittered with pink gloss. She eyeballed us. "I must admit, you all clean up pretty well. Not as well as me, of course, but still . . ." Sophina patted down one of Edgar's loopy red curls and smoothed the collar of Kevin's polo shirt. I reflexively ran my hands down the front of my brand-­new sweater, which my mom had given me as a special surprise that morning. "At least you look better than usual." Her eyes flicked over Elena, who wore a red hoodie with a cartoonish Albert Einstein on the front. "Well, most of you." Elena scowled and tugged on her braid, which was a sure sign she was about to launch a French fry at Sophina's head. "Stay focused," she whispered to herself. "Bam­boozle­land. After lunch." She loosened the grip on her braid. But her other hand twitched near the pile of fries on her lunch tray. "Anyway," Sophina said, "I just wanted to stop by and tell you that when we get to Bam­boozle­land for the ground-­breaking ceremony, you'd better not trip on the stage or anything. I don't need you GEEKs ruining my big moment. I heard Annalise Richardson from Channel 6 News will be there, so I figure I'll get a live interview." She flipped the ends of her perfectly styled hair and gave her best beauty-­queen smile. "It will be my time to shine! Toodles!" Sophina gave a tiny finger-­wave and pranced off, her minions trailing behind her. FACT #1: The special ground-­breaking ceremony was to celebrate the soon-­to-­be redone and reopened Bam­boozle­land amusement park. FACT #2: Bam­boozle­land was only getting reopened because we (the GEEKs) had saved Elmwood by finding the Van Houten fortune. So . . . FACT #3: The GEEKs were being honored during the ceremony. But . . . FACT #4: Sophina was also being honored, even though she hadn't actually helped find the treasure. All she'd done was call the police to come investigate, hoping to get us in trouble. The Elmwood chief of police--­who happened to be Elena's dad--­found us in the secret treasure vault, sitting on a bad guy. As soon as Sophina was out of sight, Elena groaned and said, "Oh, sweet Einstein! That girl drives me crazy!" Edgar shrugged. "At least she's nicer than she used to be. Thanks to her endorsement on the morning announcements, drama club's up to four members." Kevin nodded. "Yeah, and she's not a bad sixth-­grade co-­president. My approval rating is higher than ever." He patted the tight curls of his high-­top fade. "I know a lot of that is because we hunted down the Van Houten fortune, but it's also thanks to Sophina's support for my schoolwide calculator initiative. Ninety-­five-­point-­two-­four percent of sixth graders now believe we're doing a good job, and Gunner Bradley only disapproves because I wouldn't give him my strawberry Jell-­O cup yesterday." "Fine," Elena said. "You guys win. Sophina's not as annoying as she used to be." She crossed her arms. "But she's still annoying." I kept quiet, but I knew none of us really had anything to complain about. It wasn't just Kevin who was doing great. Edgar was pretty much a shoo-­in to get the lead role in Oliver!, the first play scheduled for the newly renovated Elmwood Theater. Elena had started a YouTube channel where she shared crazy science experiments, and she'd topped fifty thousand subscribers after launching a video series called Cool and Sometimes Dangerous Science Stuff You'll Never Learn in School. And me? Well, thanks to my blog posts chronicling the GEEKs' search for the Van Houten fortune, I'd won the New England Youth Journalist of the Year award. That had given me a spot in the exclusive New England Journalism Mentorship Program, which included an all-­expenses-­paid two-­day trip to New York City in July, where I would get to shadow a journalist from the New York Times. Incredible, right? I was still pinching myself. But even with all that, I wouldn't have minded things going back to at least a little bit of normal. Sure, all the attention had benefits--­it was way more fun going to school now that everyone liked us. But I was used to seeing my name in print, not my picture. As a journalist hunting for scoops, I found it tough to blend in and observe when everyone recognized me. But a return to normal would have to wait, because right then the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. The cafeteria filled with the noise of sneakers stampeding across the tile floor, trash being tossed into garbage bins, and excited voices calling out things like "Field trip time!" and "Bam­boozle­land, here we come!" As we left the cafeteria, classmates gave us fist bumps and friendly "Hey, GEEKs!" as they headed for the school buses that would take us to Bam­boozle­land. Gunner Bradley zoomed up and threw an arm across Kevin's shoulders. "Dude, this field trip gets me out of math class. Any day without fractions is a day I approve!" Kevin looked so happy, he didn't seem to mind Gunner's poor view of math. As Gunner zipped away and bounded onto one of the buses, Kevin beamed. "One hundred percent sixth-­grade approval rating!" Edgar thrust his arms into the air in celebration. "As Shakespeare never wrote but should have--­'tis a fine day for thou to be a GEEK!" And, at that moment, it seemed like Edgar was right. But we would soon learn how quickly things could change. Excerpted from The Treasure Test (Hide and Geek #2) by T. P. Jagger All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.