"Come on, slowpoke!" Max shouts. Jogging backwards a few feet ahead of me. I laugh, shaking my head as I continue jogging lightly. She sticks her tongue out to me so I quickly speed up, grabbing her and throwing her over my shoulder. She screams, kicking at me and beginning to laugh. "Ian, put me down!" She shouts.
"Nope. I'm carrying you all the way back to the hotel like a big baby," I reply triumphantly and she's still for a second before she shrugs. My eyebrows knit together. "What?"
"Nothing, I just know that your arms will give out before we get there," she says matter of factly.
"That sounds like a challenge."
"It is if you're making it one."
I scoff at her. When did Max start to act like suck a teenager? I still had three more years before I had to deal with that. Could she just act her age for a little bit older? For my sake?
I jog back to the hotel, holding onto Max the entire way. I must admit, my arms did get a little tired. But I wasn't about to give in and let Max win. So I carried her all the way up to our room and threw her on the bed. I smirk and her and put my arms up, flexing my muscles at her.
"You did pretty good for an old man," she teases. That stops me dead in my glory. Old man? I'm only 21.
This time she's smirking at me and I glare at her. I slowly reach down, tickling her right where she hated it: her armpits. She screams and tries to get away but I don't let her. "Take it back," I prompt.
"No!" I start tickling her harder, making her laugh even more. She puts up with it for about 5 more seconds. "Okay, okay!" She shouts and I let go of her. She sits up and crosses her arms, looking at me. To make her feel better, I bring my fingers up to my nose, sniff them, and act as if they were the worst things I've ever smelt in my life. She cracks a smile and the I feel accomplished.
"Go take a shower. Our first impression on Ashley can't be you smelling like a pig," I say and she laughs, getting up off of the bed and grabbing a towel out of the closet.
As she's going into the bathroom, she gets the last word. "You smell worse." I laugh as she closes the door. As soon as I hear the shower start, I get serious, knowing what I have to do.
I pull up my contact under 'Thomas' and press call. The number starts dialing as I put the phone to my ear. After a few rings, it connects.
"Ian, bro! How's vacay?" He asks excitedly over the phone. I roll my eyes with a small smile.
"I'm not on vacay. But I do need you to do something for me."
"Anything for my favorite manager. What's up?"
"I need you to look up the background information for Jacob Roy Moore. He's 22, lives in Miami, Florida."
"Woah. Did you pick up a file for real while down there?"
"You could say that. Thomas, I'm going to send you my login info and I want you to use my computer to do this so that it doesn't get traced back to you."
"This sound sketchy, man."
"Thomas, you'll be fine, trust me. I just don't know how dangerous this one is. But in the end, you may be helping save a life."
"Okay, fine, I'm convinced."
"Thank you, Thomas. Let me know if you find anything. And I mean anything. You never know what can help."
"Roger that, boss."
"I don't think you've ever thanked me before."
YOU ARE READING
Blind FateTeen Fiction
Ian Mitchell seemed to be average. He seemed to have himself and his life put together. Until him and his girlfriend were in a horrific car accident. He fell off the wagon, looking like he would never recover. When obstacles are put in his way, he's...