Spies in Saddles [Book One]

Chapter One: My Best Friend Wasn't Actually Joking All Those Times

Hola!! So I’m writing this book for my best friend for Christmas (shhh she doesn’t know) but I decided to put it up here to help give me incentive for writing. I think you guys will like it anyway, if you understand what’s going on. I try to make it very plain though.

You see, this is sort of an inside-joke between me and her (I think you’ll understand once you start reading) and she’s the narrator in this book. I’m someone else, I think you’ll figure out who, and basically this takes place at my school and stuff, but I changed names and places, etc, so don’t worry about privacy stuff cuz no one will ever know. Hopefully. I mean, it’s not bad or anything but they’d be a bit weirded out lol. So yeah I hope it’s not confusing but I think it’ll be fun. Maybe I could actually make a legit series out of it haha.

Well, here’s the first chapter, so enjoy! Please vote/comment, tell me what you think please!!! Gracias <3 vb123321

Chapter One

My Best Friend Wasn’t Actually Lying All Those Times

Most books start off by saying “It all started on a normal day,” so I won’t begin that way, but basically, it did. I mean, normal for me, which might not be normal for everyone else, as I go to an all-girl Catholic high school that wears saddle shoes. But when it all started, I was sitting in my second-period algebra two class, staring at the chalkboard and struggling to make sense of what my teacher was saying.

The class was half-sophomores, like me, and half-juniors, but everyone looked as bored and lost as I felt. One of my best friends, Kate, sat behind me and was jabbing her pencil into my back every other second to amuse herself. Molly sat on the opposite side of the classroom – stupid alphabetical order – and she looked a little sulky, probably because she had gotten a hundred on the quiz but Kasey had gotten a hundred and one. Our teacher had been droning on for what felt like hours, and yet it was only 8:12.

As taking notes was basically a failed attempt at that stage, I slid my notebook to one side to look at the Austin Mahone picture on my binder, beaming at it and then pulling out my agenda to glance at the countdown to his concert. Finally it was October!

“And so when x-squared is here, what is the answer? Um – Natalie?”

Jumping, I quickly put my eyes back on the board, swearing at Mr. D inwardly. He always called on random people, generally those that weren’t paying attention. Scanning the chalk numbers, I tried to figure out what they represented but had no clue. Kate was whispering something behind me, but as I highly doubted she knew the answer, I didn’t try to repeat it.

Thirty-six y minus two, Molly mouthed at me – how the heck did she just know that? – and I had opened my mouth to answer when a knock sounded on the door. Mr. D peered myopically in its direction, calling, “Come in,” and as it swung open we all turned in our seats to look at the tall man in a suit that stood there. He looked around thirty years old, with dark hair and a pronounced jaw line.

“Sorry to disturb,” he said, his voice smooth and polite as he glanced around the classroom. He didn’t offer an explanation for his entrance as he walked to the front, our heads following him as Mr. D looked a little confused. Seeing this, the man said, “I just need to see one of your students for a second.”

Did he really feel it was necessary to come all the way in? Still, an interruption to this class was always great, so I crossed my fingers and hoped it would be me. An easy smile hovered around the man’s mouth, his hands casually thrust deep in his pockets as he said, “Can I borrow Molly Vandenberg?”

I glanced at Molly, ready to see her smirk at me because she got to leave class, but instead she had gone very still – and still for Molly is pretty weird. Her face looked a bit whiter than its usual tan color, and she didn’t look at me. Mr. D shrugged and said, “Sure,” with a bored expression. “Molly, just make sure you get the homework from a friend.”