Model in Disguise

16. Learning New Things

Dedicated to: StrippedTissueBox

Thank you for your honest comments! I appreciate them. I love reading criticism, although maybe not at first. But hearing your thoughts on the story help me fill some gaps I didn’t know I’d left open. So thanks! :)

                Not proofread, point out mistakes.

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      September 6th
      Agent R. Harris gets closer to the Cherubim.

        16: Learning New Things
         Date: September 6th

I replay the scene again and again in my mind, and suddenly I’m annoyed. The mission wasn’t supposed to happen this way. All we had to do was be students at the school and get our hands on whatever information we could find.

      And now there’s another image I need to uphold.

      I wrench open the door to the school, lost in thought. It’s Alex’s voice that brings me back to reality. “Rachel,” he says, and I pause.

      “What?” I ask, removing my hand from the doorknob. I turn to face him, and when I do I see him only a foot away.

      He stares at me. A few seconds pass before he says, “Don’t.”

      “Don’t what?” I say. I spit out the last word like it’s some kind of poison. I don’t know why I do it, but I do. And I don’t know why I’m looking at him so coldly, but I am. Alex’s one word sentences don’t appeal to me at the moment.

      Now Alex carries himself in a serious way – much different than his usual carefree style. “Don’t pretend that you’re mad because of what I did.”

      My mouth drops open. Pretend? I open my mouth to retort something but he continues on anyway.

      “Because you’re not. You’re mad because of what Adrian did,” he says. I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re mad because we almost got caught. You’re mad because I’m the one that saved us, not you.”

      “What do you know about me?” I demand. “Nothing! You know nothing about me. You don’t know who I am. Don’t tell me how I feel.”

      Alex stands there watching me for a moment. Then he takes two steps closer, and our faces are only inches apart as his green eyes search mine. I am breathing heavily, but I can’t tell if it’s because of my anger or because of how close our bodies are.

      We stand there for a little while longer.

      Then Alex says, “Someone has to. Because I don’t think you know who you are either.”

      And then he steps back and walks around me and into the auditorium.

            .          .          .

“Hello class,” drawls the male teacher in front of the classroom. “My name is Mr. Howard, and I will be your Algebra 2 Trigonometry teacher. I must inform you that the policies in this school strictly forbid any bullying, violence, cheating—”

      The teacher pauses and looks up from the paper he’s reading, his narrowed eyes scrutinizing the students. Then he throws the paper into the air and leans back against the desk. His face becomes viewable now, and just about every girl sits up straighter in their desk.

      Mr. Howard is a man with a chiseled jaw, brown eyes and dark hair. There is slight stubble on his jaw and he looks to be in his late twenties. His pale skin tone contrasts with the dark chalkboard behind him and the light above his head causes his hair to shine.