Albert knocked on Mr. Reagan’s office door twenty minutes before lunch time. He did some stretches before he arrived at the internship to run some more memos to people, and it turned out it helped. The soreness from last week finally started to go away, and he got the stack done much faster.

“Come in,” he heard Mr. Reagan say.

Albert opened the door. “Finished that stack. Can I do another before lunch?”

Mr. Reagan smiled. “Actually, you’ve done them all. I’m quite impressed.”

“Oh.” Albert tried hard not to look relieved. “Excellent. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Mr. Reagan motioned toward the seat. “Sit, Albert. Take it easy. You worked hard, you deserve a break.”

It didn’t take too long to convince Albert. He sat, taking in Mr. Reagan’s office for the first time. There was a bookshelf full of all sorts of books on politics as well as acting. A desktop computer took up most of the space on his desk, but there was a rather large jar of jelly beans, which Mr. Reagan opened and offered to him.

“Thank you,” Albert said, taking three.

Mr. Reagan placed the lid back on as Albert sorted through his random pickings of jelly beans before popping them into his mouth, his least favorite flavor to his favorite. He glanced around Mr. Reagan’s office while he chewed. They were high enough up that he noticed they were level with some other tall buildings in the city. He could make out the wall surrounding the city, and his thoughts briefly turned to Abe.

His final flavor, blueberry was in his mouth when Mr. Reagan cleared his throat. “You know, I have this saying that you can tell a lot about a person’s character by how they eat jelly beans.”

Albert stopped chewing and turned his attention to Mr. Reagan, who had apparently been watching him the entire time. Albert blinked, frantically analyzing how he ate his jelly beans and whether or not it incriminated him before the logical side won out and he resumed chewing. He swallowed, a slight frown on his face. “Seriously?”

Mr. Reagan shrugged. “Sure.”

“That… makes absolutely no sense whatsoever,” Albert said.

Mr. Reagan laughed. “Fair enough.”

Despite what Albert said, he still felt self-conscious. “Have you figured out the inner workings of my psychology now?” Albert asked, trying to make light of the situation.

Ron chuckled as he sat down at his desk. “So, Albert. Presley High, huh?”

“Yeah, going into my sophomore year in the fall.”

“Must be quite the genius to get into Presley.”

“I’d like to be a musician one day,” Albert said.

Mr. Reagan took a small handful of jelly beans for himself and randomly popped them into his mouth. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I think there is a lot of beauty and order to music.” Albert didn’t feel like he was lying in order to make sure Mr. Reagan didn’t find him suspicious. Yes, he loved math and science, but he often found music just as mathematical.

Mr. Reagan nodded, then stood up. “Why don’t we go for a walk? It’s always good to stretch the legs before lunch.”

Albert nodded as he stood. Technically he already did stretch his legs, but he wouldn’t argue. “What about you, Mr. Reagan? Did you always want to work in the S.E.A.?”

Mr. Reagan opened the door for Albert as they both walked out. “Me? No. Never thought I was a good fit. I’m an actor myself. After a time I began thinking I could help out politically, and I put my acting career on hold.”

“Do you miss it at all?” Albert asked.

Mr. Reagan laughed. “Missing it means I never use it. In this line of work, I still do from time to time.”

Albert wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was it some sort of veiled threat? Or was he just paranoid? “Are we-” Every muscle in Albert’s body froze. Down the hall he saw Adolf headed his way, talking with his own junior official. Albert fought the panic that would certainly trigger the chip if he wasn’t careful. He tried to act natural and forced himself to keep walking. Maybe Adolf would completely ignore him, but it was too late. The second he thought it, Adolf glanced up and caught Albert’s eye. Albert forced his emotions to shut down as Adolf’s eyes narrowed. They passed each other, and Mr. Reagan glanced at Adolf. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Albert said.

“Do you know him?”

“Yeah.” Albert forced his brain to think straight. There was no denying Adolf knew Albert was here now. Certainly Adolf wouldn’t try bullying him here in a place full of officials.

Mr. Reagan placed a hand on Albert’s shoulder to slow their walking. “Are you okay? Who is he?”

Albert wasn’t sure how to explain it. And there was too much of Adolf tied up with Marie. He didn’t want to talk about Marie with Mr. Reagan. It would bring more questions he simply didn’t want to answer.

“Let’s just say he’s the kind of kid who not only hates jelly beans, but convinces everyone else to hate them too. And if you resist, he will beat you up for it.”

Mr. Reagan glanced at Adolf’s retreating form. “Ah,” was all he said. He checked his watch. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt if you left for lunch a bit early, so you wouldn’t have to run into him in the lunch line. I’ll see you in about an hour, okay?”

Albert nodded and headed toward the elevators.

“Oh, and Albert?” He turned as Mr. Reagan stepped closer to him. “You let me know if you experience any bullying from that kid. Bullying is not tolerated here at the S.E.A.”

Albert nodded again, feeling his mouth go dry. He wanted to believe it, but Adolf always seemed to escape punishment, even for the cruelest of behaviors.

He rode the elevator to the cafeteria, his mind a blur the entire time. He tried to rationalize with himself that things would be okay, but every time he tried, he remembered what it was like to get beaten. The pain, the instinctual fear, the need to escape, the helplessness. And in the end, Adolf got away with it all.

The elevator doors opened and he walked into the cafeteria area. He took a deep, steadying breath, then let it out slowly. There was no point worrying about a future he couldn’t control. Whatever Adolf did, he simply needed to focus on the here and now.

Albert got in line for lunch. His nose was weirded out by all the smells that individually smelled amazing but shouldn’t go together. He could smell the sweet butter rolls and the cake on top of the spaghetti and meatballs. He went down the line and was about to sit down when he saw Agatha waiting at the coffee station with her tray of food, looking like she was waiting for something. Albert had the feeling Agatha had suspicions about him and his real purpose here. Maybe he needed to actively befriend her so she wouldn’t be suspicious.

“Good afternoon, Agatha,” Albert said.

Agatha turned, giving him a smile. “Albert! Hello!”

“Are you waiting for someone?” Albert asked, glancing around for Anne or someone else.

“In a way. They ran out of cream, so I’m waiting for them to bring some over. Ah! Here he comes!”

Albert watched as a college-aged man walked over to Agatha and Albert with a container of cream.

“Sorry about the wait,” the man said.

“Oh, no worries,” Agatha said as she set her tray of food down before taking the container. “I appreciate your help.” Agatha picked out a coffee cup and began pouring the cream into it. Albert was about to ask something else when it dawned on him that Agatha hadn’t put any coffee or tea in her cup yet. It was swiftly filling up with cream. Albert and the man exchanged glances, but neither one of them said anything. Agatha placed the container of cream on the table before smiling at the man. “Thank you again.”

The man opened his mouth, looking hesitant at what he was about to say. “You know, people usually put a bit of cream in their coffee or tea.”

“Ah, yes,” Agatha said, picking up her cup. “I too sometimes enjoy my cream to have a slight taste of tea to it as well.”

The man gave a short nod. “I shall make sure our cream is always in stock.”

Agatha smiled. “You are a dear. Thank you.”

The man left. Agatha took a small sip of her cream and licked her top lip before looking at Albert as though daring him to judge her. Albert cleared his throat.

“Shall we sit down?” he asked.

“Absolutely!” Agatha said as she gathered her tray and Albert glanced around at the tables. “Ah, there is your friend. Billy, was it? He seems like quite the popular kid.”

Albert noticed that the table where Billy was sitting had four other teenagers at it, including Anne from last week.

“Yeah,” Albert said. He had a sneaky suspicion that since Poe was usually eating with security, a lot more people were more likely to sit with them now.

“Now, Albert. Your junior official you’re internshiping with, that’s Mr. Reagan, yes?” Agatha said.

Albert tried not to let it weird him out that Agatha already knew things about him. Was she being nosey? He needed to recruit some people to the underground, but he wasn’t sure if Agatha stumbling upon the secret would be the best way. She might tell the wrong people.

“Yes, Mr. Reagan. He’s the junior official over communications,” Albert said, trying to be as willing to give her information as possible.

“The junior official under Mr. McCarthy, correct?” Agatha asked.

“Oh,” Albert said, realizing he hadn’t thought of that. It triggered not so distant memories of his interview for the internship. He remembered Mr. McCarthy’s face, the suspicion, the paranoia, knowing that Mr. McCarthy knew exactly what Albert had been up to, but was waiting for one wrong move. The same feeling he had every time he stepped into the S.E.A, just more diluted. “I guess so. I didn’t realize.”

Agatha nodded as she set her tray down by Anne. Albert opened his mouth to ask Agatha a question, since he didn’t just want to talk about himself, but Anne turned to them with a huge smile.

“Did you hear the news?” she asked, her voice bubbling in excitement.

“What news?” Agatha asked.

Billy had a huge smile on his face. “Walt wants to produce my play at the grand theater.”

Albert had a rush of a hundred different emotions filter through his mind. “What?” he asked again, just to make sure.

“Walt. Walt Disney? He read the first draft of my play Romeo and Juliet that I finished for school this last year and wants to help produce it at the grand theater. He loved it!”

“That’s incredible!” Albert said.

“An absolutely incredible opportunity!” Agatha said.

“Right! I’m pretty sure he’s the youngest ever!” Anne said. “He’s going to have to remember all of us little folk when he gets famous.”

Billy waved his hand in front of him. “Oh please. Walt wants to do it, not that it’s actually happened. We have to wait for the people at the grand theater to approve it.”

“Well, the fact that the grand theater is even considering you is still an accomplishment,” Albert said. “Good for you!”

Billy smiled, and Albert tried to detect any sign that Billy was afraid of this sudden change. Did he suspect an ulterior motive to Walt’s praise? Was Walt trying to lead Billy into a false sense of security? Or was this genuine? Billy looked truthfully thrilled as he talked to some of the other teens at the table, and Albert felt a wave of exhaustion as the hundreds of emotions shut his brain down. It was probably for the best. He wasn’t in the mood to start singing right now.