My Spy Life Book 2 A High School Life

It's not a date, it's a hangout

This is getting creepy. The dreams... Or visions... Or dream... Whatever. It's getting worst and worst by the nights. Are they dreams, or visions? Whatever. It's almost the end of winter break, so I was hoping to have a restful day. I was now at my desk, writing in my agenda, when someone knocks on my door.

"It's open," I called out, writing my birthday. Royce walks hesitantly. "What up?" I ask, not looking up.

"When are we having that date again?" He ask shyly. I turn my page back to this month and look.

"At around next week," I said. "Maybe Friday." I then stop myself. "Did you say 'Date'?" I ask slowly.

I got up, face Royce and stalk up to him. I put one hand in his hair and on his side neck. I pull his head near to mine... Then... Slap my hand, that was on his shoulders, over his mouth. I look at him straight in his eyes.

"It's not a date. It's a hangout," I hiss.

"Mpphmph," he muffle behind my hand.

"Oh. Right," I mumble, moving my hand away.

"Thank you. And I thought you were going to kiss me," he said, then chuckle nervously. I narrow my eyes.

Then, like a crazy stalker, Jake poke his head in the room. Royce and I quickly parted, both blushing.

"Sure, it's a 'date'," he said, then made a kiss face.

"Hey jerk. Run along now," I snap at Jake. Jake made a pouty face. "Like whatever loser lammo wannabe," I sang. They both look at each other and quietly left. "I win!" I cheered, closing my door.

I then flop on my back on my bed. Great. Layla got that weird old song stuck in my head! Whatever. This time, I actually had a nice dream. But when I woke up, I was in a bathtub, with bubbles and rose flower (my favourite flower) and candles lite all over. All I know, this is not my bathroom, not at Chicago nor spy base nor New York.