Classified

Chapter 1 - "First, I'd like you to meet Carter."

The only testament to decoration was the target sheet on the fridge. The center of the had been ripped to shreds by bullets and on the upper right hand corner were the words 'Suck it' in sharpie, with an illegible signature from his brother James below.

After downing a cup of coffee, Donovan snatched up his bag and crossed over to Link's apartment. Inside Monica was pouring herself coffee while Link sat at the counter. His leg bounced in a frantic rhythm as he stared at his phone. His glasses laid discarded beside him.

"You ready?" Donovan asked.

Not bothering to look up, Link picked up his glasses and retrieved his backpack from the ground. Before he managed to make it to Donovan, his mother scurried around the counter and caught his arm. Only then did Link break his focus in the phone. She cupped his face and kissed his cheek.

"It's going to be okay," she said.

Though Link nodded, he looked anything but reassured. There was a wrinkle in his brow and his lips were pinched together. As the pair left the apartment, Monica called out good luck to them.

In the car, Link began spouting out details that the phone was conveying to him.

"It says," he said, "that Hamilton Prep is one of the most prestigious private high schools in the U.S. catering to America's elite."

Donovan knew this. He also knew the layout of the school, the security measures, the defensiveness of the grounds and the fact that in an exclusive school the chances of not running into Mason Douglas - The First Son and Link's half brother - was nearly impossible.

Link continued to rattle off information like it would cover up the one piece that actually meant anything.

When the Mercedes pulled through the security gate onto the school grounds, Link looked up. The gray stone building was stately, looking of old money and history. Manicured lawns spread out on all sides, encased by a tall, stone fence. Atop the fence were security cameras at distinct intervals, taking in everything.

Donovan swung the car into a parking spot and cut the engine. Beyond the car, doors were slammed and friends called out to. The shouts and laughter held the ring of camaraderie that had been honed over the years. Beside him, Link's leg bounced again. His hair stood up at odd angles and his glasses obstructed his face.

"How are you doing?" Donovan asked.

Link adjusted his glasses, a nervous tell Donovan was accustomed to.

"What is the likelihood that I have any classes with Mason?"

Donovan knew that Link was well aware of the odds and also knew that's not why he asked.

"There is no way to avoid him. I'm sorry."

Link nodded, still surveying the school. Taking the lead, Donovan opened his door and stepped out. Link paused for a second then followed. In silence, they joined the flow of students converging on the school. Standing side by side they appeared as strange bookends, the light skinned, lanky, purposefully rumpled boy and the neat athlete with a dark complexion and handsome face.

As they walked, Donovan's mind was flooded with hundreds of new faces, each having their own unique quality that he picked up on. Beyond this he took in body language, analyzing simple gestures, expressions, and postures to get the underlining meanings they conveyed.

The bell rang as they cut through the crowd, Donovan directing their path. As they headed towards their first period, he felt the gazes of girls that latched onto him. Heads turned as eyes glowed with curiosity and interest. Fighting a wave of weariness, he dropped his customary blank mask into place.