“Sorry,” I said. “That was out of line.” Elliot and I had disliked each other practically since we were babies in Academy day care. I had a very clear memory of three-year-old Elliot shoving Play-Doh up his nose, a memory I made a habit to remind him of every time the opportunity presented itself. Which, as it turned out, happened quite a lot. In my defense, he tossed around the story of that unfortunate field trip where I wet my pants like it was confetti, so he had it coming. I wasn’t sure why we didn’t get along, but I had a feeling that it was because my mom was the commander in chief, and he was just another Academy kid. Or maybe he really did have the personality of a constipated toad. The jury was still out.

Elliot forced a grin, showing off two rows of perfect white teeth. “It’s fine. The only reason someone would miss you would be if your mom required it, Fitz.”

I swallowed down what I wanted to say and raised an eyebrow at him, curious despite myself. “So you think you’re ready to move up to level six?” I asked. The very idea made my chest tight. At that level, you actually time traveled. Not to anything major, of course, but you were put on a Glitch platform and sent to a deserted field somewhere in the past to get used to the whole experience.

The rare gene that allowed a select few to Glitch couldn’t be activated at will. Thank goodness. It lay dormant, hidden inside the very DNA of a Glitcher until it was triggered by a Glitch platform in ways I still didn’t completely understand. I wasn’t sure how I’d handle that step when it came, but I’d have to find a way. If it ever came, I thought ruefully, and I hoped that thought hadn’t shown on my face. The last thing I needed was to give Elliot Mason ammunition, thank you very much.

The Glitch gene was so rare that I wasn’t in danger of getting kicked out of the Academy, especially with my mom being who she was, but that didn’t mean I’d get to be a Glitcher. Only about 20 percent of the Academy students made it that far. The mental strain broke some, and others opted out of the program due to the overwhelming stress and pressure of it all and chose to work on campus in some other role. They weren’t considered failures, just reassignments. You could label it however you wanted to, but if the daughter of the first ever female commander in chief didn’t make it through, I would be a big fat failure.