Who Am I?

Chapter 1

Mr. Hosini Black stepped of the black limousine in a crisp white shirt and his blackberry glued to his ear. He was around 28, with a slender figure and pale white skin. His eyes were stone black and complemented his jet black hair. His lips were always summoned into a thin line when he wasn't talking. And it was difficult for anybody, around his periphery, to not feel intimidated by him. Which is why he was the perfect choice for the head of the NSA (National Security Agency). Three hefty bodyguards followed closely behind as he walked towards the door of the National Library.  

I slowly strained my head to get a good look at him from behind the bushes. I was dressed in a sleek black jumpsuit. My long back hair had been neatly done into a ponytail. I saw him suddenly stop and turn. With a flick of his hands he told his bodyguards not to follow. He started walking away from them, and come towards the bushes where I was hidden. But confident that he hasn't seen me, I stayed there. He stood right next to me, his face turned back and whispered urgently into his blackberry

"Shipments delayed."

"Somalia."

"Red."

His conversation made no sense at all. But at the same time I knew it must've been something of high secrecy, because of his sudden need to complete privacy. I couldn't catch the rest of his conversation as he had walked away and entered the Library.

Just then I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. I turned back and saw the shocked face of Jack. Jack Peterson.

"What a surprise, Selma" his shocked face breaking in a smirk

"Jack." I responded with cold eyes and a thin ice hard voice.

"I'm not the one hiding behind bushes Selma. Don't give me that voice. "

"It's none of your business." I got up and left.

My job was done anyway.

~~**~~

My black pumps klink-klonked on the white shiny marble floor. My straight jet black hair which was left open reached my waist. I was dresses in shorts and a pink tube top that flaunted my curves. I had a tiny black sling bag, that was thrown over my shoulders. It was something I couldn't do without. And something I let nobody touch. Ever. A purse was simply inconvenient. I preferred having both my arms free.

I ignored all the stares and wolf-whistles and walked towards my locker.  

I quickly grabbed my books and was about to leave when my best friend Ella bounced in front of me.  

She was the complete opposite of me. She had curly, bouncy blonde hair that reached her shoulders. Round blue eyes, and perfectly shaped lips. She was a happy-go-lucky sort of person and her life was an open book. To me atleast.

She enveloped me into a giant hug. I was getting used to this, I guess. I hugged her back awkwardly.

"Selma! Can't I even get a proper hug?" She pouted.

"Umm, sure" I said apprehensively.

"Fine, forget it." She said giving me a warm smile.

She immediately started chattering about something, the school play I think. Even though she was a bit too talkative for my taste, I genuinely liked her. She had always been there for me and had ignored and adjusted to my wired and mysterious ways.

"Oh, what were you doing behind the bushes of the Library now?" She asked amusedly.

I didn't want to snap at her of all people so I was mentally conjuring up some excuse when it hit me