Shadow Girl (Ongoing)

Chapter 1

I can't breathe.

I struggle to remove the iron-grip hands that started choking me in the middle of my sleep. I knew this day would come. I've been found out. I'm caught. And now they're going to kill me.

I wake gasping in alarm when I realize it was just another bad dream. It's 4:30 am and I'm wide awake. My dream should stop me from doing what I'm about to do, because even though it was just a dream, it could easily become a reality. I should stop, but I don't.

I've been collecting this data for weeks, and it was a matter of compiling it before I could send it to Simmons, the FBI representative who pays me for my hardwork, and earn a reward.

Once this information goes through, I'll have taken down one of the biggest gaming companies in New York, Gametopia. 

I compile it and hit send, then crawl back into bed for a half hour of sleep before I have to be ready for school.

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"There's this new thing, it's called make up. You should try it sometime," says Samantha. My (probably only) friend.

"That bad?" I ask, as I slam my locker, and touch my face.

"You know I like to tease you. But for real, your eye bags are halfway down your cheeks. Did you stay up studying or something?" She asks.

"Uh, no. I had a bad dream and didn't get much sleep because of it," I answered semi-truthfully. Samantha doesn't know that I'm a teenager working with the FBI Intelligence team to capture high-profile criminals by hacking into suspicious company systems and finding out if all of their money is accounted for.

"Oh. Do you wanna talk about it?"

Yes, I do actually.

I want you to know that it will be announced later today that Gametopia is going to announce the dissolution of their company and it's because I uncovered that the company has been secretly endorsing illegal drug importation to increase their profits.

"Nah, don't want to be late for class," I say instead.

In AP calc, I sit in the back. Partly because the subject is so easy it bores me, and partly because it's the seat nearest to the door, and you never know when you might need an escape.

"Hey, Nathalie," says Daniel, my kind-of-but-not-really friend.

"Hey, Daniel."

He takes the seat beside me and pulls out his notes. "So are you gonna do it?" He inquires, looking at me.

Our math teacher has asked us if we were able to tutor some of his students and we'd be exempt from homework for the rest of the semester. The problem was, the students that needed tutoring were Nate Donavan and his basketball teammates. 

Don't get me wrong, the boys are lovely to look at. Pleasing to the eye, even. But that's pretty much it. I'm not interested in getting to know any of them. 

Despite these opinions, something is stopped me from flatly saying no so I asked the teacher for time to consider his offer.

I stayed back after class to talk to the teacher. He looked hopeful as I approached him.

"Have you made a decision on my offer, Ms. Parker?"

"Yes. I'll do it. No homework sounds pretty cool," homework was also a boring waste of time.

"Excellent! I'll assign you to Mr. Donavan. You're doing a great thing by helping your fellow classmate. Not everyone is as gifted as you." He says in his usual formal tone.

I walk out feeling giddy and nervous. How will I handle this? I had no idea how Nate will receive this. I've rarely ever spoken to him. He looks (and acts) like the typical jock who only cares about sports, so I'm not sure he'll be pleased. 

Next is English literature. A slightly more interesting class than math but still a waste of my time. Even though I basically work full time with the FBI, I'm required to keep up a normal teenager appearance to avoid suspicion and that requires attending high school.

I sit in my usual spot, second to last row, and pull out my copy of Hamlet.

"Psst."

Someone thinks they're being subtle in class. People can be so dramatic sometimes.

"Pssst."

I notice the sound is coming from right behind me. I turn around to find Nate, whom I last checked did not take English Lit, leaning over his desk toward me.

"What?" I whisper back. The teacher is too busy reading everyone else to sleep to notice our commotion in the back.

Nate smiles in response. Suddenly, I want to turn back around and burry my nose in my book. I don't think I have the strength to return his gaze without blushing. Why oh why did he have to have piercing blue eyes?!

"Hi." He says simply.

I blink at him. What is he doing?

When I don't respond, he continues, "Ok so I just heard you were my new calculus tutor and just wanted to thank you in person cuz seriously I am so lost in that class and just wanted to say that I really appreciate-."

The teacher loudly clears her throat. "Can I help you Mr. Donavan? Are you interested in retaking this class?"

"As much as I love your class Mrs. Hopkin, I just came by to return something to Nathalie. I'll be on my way now," he says smoothly, "I'll see you later, Nathalie," he says before he walks out of class as if this was the most natural thing to do.

I don't fail to notice the repeated glares I get from some of my classmates, the girls especially, after Nate leaves.

Oh boy. What have I signed up for?