Dedicated to: Amazing2000
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September 1st
Agent R. Harris and Agent A. Nichols encounter their next and final partner.
Ch. 9: Amateur Agent
Date: September 1st
The first thing I seem to have learned about Smile Academy is that everyone here looks the same.
Not literally; it's more in the figurative sense. Every teen here is good-looking and confident and completely clueless to the world around them. They laugh, play-fight, pose for pictures. But none of them are aware that they're in the presence of two trained agents.
As I observe how careless these teens are, I convince myself that it shouldn't be too hard to point out our last partner.
But I then realize that really, it should be extremely hard. If this new partner is a Special Operations operative they should be able to blend into their surroundings so well that I don't know who they are at first glance.
But I'm willing myself not to miss them the second time.
I maneuver my way around campus with Adrian in tow, our hands intertwined securely. My palms are sweaty at the contact with his and my heart beats irregularly inside my chest but I don't dare take my hand away. I have an image to uphold with Adrian, regardless of what I'm feeling.
If I were to look at the two of us from someone else's point of view there is a specific picture that I should see. Two attractive teens, a couple, new to the school and testing out the waters of Smile Academy.
And I can tell we're portraying this image perfectly because the students camping around the premises are turning their heads to stare at us as we walk past. It's awkward. But I pretend I don't notice.
It does help that I've learned exactly how to portray myself as Rachel Williams. I've learned the walk, the talk, the hair flips, and even the dreaded laugh.
Wardrobe is an important factor as well.
In Whitehaven, New York, research shows that the fall usually comes with lots of leaves and wind. That being said, I was required to prepare myself for the abundance of leaves that I'd have to dodge while I was walking - especially if I was wearing pumps.
The warmth of Adrian's hand is the only thing that keeps me from glaring back at the meddling eyes of the students of Smile Academy.
As if they've never seen two seventeen-year-olds before.
“Adrian . . .” I pause, my eyes secretly scanning over the school's campus. “Should we be drawing attention to ourselves?”
“No idea,” he responds, “but it makes things a lot easier.” Adrian stops us both and turns to me. I smile up at him slightly, letting my green eyes connect with his and drink in the emotion within them - supposedly. In reality I want to tear myself away from the good-looking boy in front of me. But I don't. Because I can't.
We're stopped right next to a shrub that lines the separation of grass and the entrance road. The school buildings are approximately five hundred meters away from where we stand. Behind me there are at least one hundred and forty seven students enjoying themselves near the entrance, I notice. I come to the conclusion of thirty-two blondes, fifteen redheads, and a hundred brunettes.
Wait, no. Twenty-eight of those brunettes have highlights.
Adrian then leans in to brush his lips against my cheek, and I allow a blush to rise and redden my face. “Blue hat,” Adrian whispers. I take in the heat from Adrian's face next to mine. It irritates me.
“Possibly,” I say, grabbing his hand and bringing him with me as I walk further away from the aforementioned person. I glance back at he girl to my right in a blue hat with long black hair whose body is relaxed, but somehow still alert to its surroundings. Pretending to bend over and fix my foot inside my heel, I let my senses examine her.
Then I notice that her phone is bulging out from her jacket pocket. It's not her. “A possibility, yes, but not quite.”
A few more minutes pass as Adrian and I embrace the grounds of Smile. We stroll across the grounds and I breathe in the scent of fresh rain that surrounds the area. Turning my head to the right, I look out at the plethora of stores and malls that reside near the campus. My ears listen to the chatter of the teenagers lounging on the grass.
Someone is playing football.
“I've got it!” they yell, stumbling backwards over the manicured grass.
And as I'm looking to my right, something bumps into me on my left. I'm pushed into Adrian a little, then, but my feet stay firmly on the ground. My head swivels to see who has just bumped into me.
Suddenly I'm staring into apologetic green eyes a few shades lighter than my own. The boy has blond hair and nicely shaped eyes that compliment his light skin tone. He's gorgeous, of course. But I don't pay much attention to the fact.
What I pay attention to is that he just bumped into me.
“Sorry,” he says immediately, sparing Adrian and me a quick glance. I eye him skeptically as he searches the ground for the fallen football.
I then clutch Adrian's hand tightly, forcing myself not to react as we turn away and continue searching for our partner.
But then I stop abruptly.
Tilting my head to the side, I slowly turn back to my left. The boy is staring back at me.
One corner of my lips lifts up into a small smirk, and I start towards his figure.
“I don't get caught off guard that easily,” I explain, my tone fierce as per usual. I don't bother hiding my voice behind a fake one as I tell him why I caught him. “And there's no football anywhere on these grounds.”
This is when the boy cracks a smile. “Alex Peterson,” he says, holding out a hand for me or Adrian to shake. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
I raise an eyebrow at him.
When he notices that neither of us are going to shake his hand, he doesn't take it back. Instead his grin widens and he reaches forward to pick up my hand himself.
I gawk at him. Is he really forcing me to shake his hand?
The boy's hand grasping mine brings tingles through my arm. It wakes me up a bit, and I blink down at our hands, entranced for a moment.
His hand is incredibly soft.
“Hey,” Adrian's hard voice says, stepping forward to rip our hands apart. He replaces my hand with his. “Nice to meet you, I'm Adrian.”
I purse my lips. Adrian is possessive? That's new . . .
But Alex's bright green eyes tell me that he completely missed the tone of Adrian's voice. “Great! You guys did a pretty good job of finding me.” His eyes make contact with mine. “Although you seeing me five minutes earlier would have been much more appreciated.”
This time both of my eyebrows raise, as if asking, “Are you serious?”
The agent then breaks into laughter, his eyes filled with humor. “I'm joking!”
As Alex smiles a lazy smile, irritation enters my expression. Why is this kid so happy? Isn't that a bit unprofessional of him? Special Operations operatives are supposed to be focused and serious. And obviously this guy isn't.
This is the agent they sent me?
I send Alex a last withering look and turn sharply, heading back to my luggage.
All at once I feel my mood drop. I don’t want another partner if he’s going to be an amateur that messes us up. This is my first mission and I have expectations to live up to.
If I really have to, I’ll work with him – I mean, he’s better than Kyle, right? But even so, I probably won’t rely on him for much.
The last thing I need is someone getting in my way.
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Well. Someone has an attitude problem, huh?
What do you guys think of Alex's happy-go-lucky attitude?
Smile Academy on the side! COMMENT and vote, guys! Commenters get dedications! :)
' AwesomelyBlaze