We walk towards the main quad where my "big birthday bash" is supposed to take place (I swear, Joanne is such a dork) and when we get there, I stand there for a couple of long seconds in shock.
The Institute, the most serious crime-fighting, world benefitting and protecting, kick ass organization ever, now looks like a freaking frat party.
Tiki torches light the pathways and there are red cups all over the place. A bunch of guys I don't even recognize are making hot dogs while shameless girls flirt at them while twirling their hair. Not with them, at them. Everybody's talking to somebody as if the next day they didn't have to go learn how to paralyze a man using their little finger or make sure their surveillance team and equipment overheard if some cocky politician was going to go poking around for a war or pass a law to further screw over the poor. I've never seen the large, college-like, marble Institute like this. It always seemed untouchable, big, not in the sense of size although it was enormous but in the sense that when you're there, you feel its presence, its knowledge, its age and how amazing it is that you can be a part of something so huge. I mean, it's the Institute, for the love of God. It's truly impressive with its stain glass windows depicting every renowned scientist and author, from Newton and Locke to Hawking and Hemingway and its enormous glass dome, perfect for star gazing when you don't want to climb the gajillion steps to get to the top of the observatory.
This place means the world to me, as does what we do and the people I have met. Which is why I decide to let these teenage astrophysicists, former paid assassins, computer technicians, and human rights activists, be teenagers for a change. It doesn't feel so much as my party but as well-deserved break for everybody.
"Hey, there she is!" James calls out, beaming out his huge smile that would make girls go mad if he wasn't so incredibly shy and busy with developing a computer program to faster scan people's body language and minds to know at the point of a rendezvous if they mean to shake your hand or punch you in the throat. James Puertos is one the brightest computer technicians at the I and he's Mason's age. "It's the birthday girl!
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" My colleagues all raise their glasses at me and shout congratulations as I walk down the main path smiling sheepishly with Mason close behind me.
"Get out of my way, best girlfriend coming through," I hear a bossy voice cutting through everybody else's and out of the saturated bubble of people pops out the infamous and short (we're talking 5'1 here) Alison Bray with Joanne practically toppling on top of her. Alison is one of our top notch interrogators here at the I in criminal cases and my other savior when I showed up at the Institute, my first and only roommate ever, and Joanne Mills is by far the best medic under the age of 21 I have ever seen.
"Best girlfriend, my a- oh hi sweetie!" Joanne catches herself and smiles sheepishly.
"Nice save Jo," I chuckle. "Hey guys, great party."
"Really? You like it? We spent so much time organizing it and we got your favorites, red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting and-"
"O-M-G Bridget Walls!!"
No. No. No. I recognize the phony, nasally voice cutting through the words of my favorite people in the world. What is she doing here?
"Hi... Stephanie." I say through gritted teeth as she enthusiastically gives me a hug and air kisses.
Stephanie Michaels. My arch nemesis here at the I since the moment I arrived. We were in the same year together after I unexpectedly arrived. She had graduated top of her class from Diamond Prep but soon found that in our year she was ranking number two.
Oops.
Anyway, she proceeded to make my life miserable, hiding my clothes while I was in the shower and putting them out in the hall of the guys' dorms, spreading rumors, and overall trying her best to obliterate me whenever we had to spar in our Physicals. Of course, all her attempts failed seeing as I had friends who could get me my clothes, confirm she was full of crap, and overall teach me how to kick her bony ass to the moon (which funnily enough is what Sergeant Williams said after our final spar). Now she just seethes silently and tries to get everybody to see what an "unexperienced, desperate, weak little street urchin" I am with very little success in her division of Interrogation (same as Alison) and my division of Crimes Against Humanity seeing as the head coordinator, Rosa Garcia, was the one who brought me in and got me to discover my full potential.
"Happy birthday sweetheart!" she smiles through her perfect teeth and her violently red lips. That along with her wavy long black hair and shocking green eyes pretty much gets her what she wants whenever she says the word.
"Thanks... What are you doing here?" I ask rather bluntly.
"It's not like I'd miss this special day! Or the party of the year..." she smiles over to Alison and Joanne, who blush and James who nervously looks away, murmuring under his breath what appears to be the many digits of pi. They still don't recognize her sinister side but that's alright because after the quick glance, Stephanie can't keep her eyes off Mason. He seems to have that quality on girls with his feathery dark blond hair that curls to a point at the nape of his neck and hazel eyes that seem so full and warm with sadness hidden behind and his lanky torso and muscular arms which Stephanie can't seem to keep her red talons off of. Girls always have this behavior when I'm around, as if they're saying "I'm claiming this one, what are you gonna do about it?"
I just smile politely (or grimace as I have been told) and then actually smile when Mason shuts it down as if saying "Sorry, no time, see you later." As if they didn't know that we basically just had each other.
"Bridge, let's go check out the food, I'm starved," he actually says, putting his hand on my elbow and steering me away from Stephanie. "Find us in our spot you guys!" he calls to Alison, James and Joanne, to which they nod enthusiastically.
"Have a good night!" I can't resist calling back to Stephanie as she stands there fuming and watching her prey of the century walk off with another girl, even if it is his best friend.
I chuckle as we walk away and Mason just looks at me. "What's so funny?"
"Her. She's so upset you left her and didn't fall for her oh-so-popular flirting technique."
"Oh, is that what she was doing?" he raises an eyebrow.
"What are you, blind or deaf to the ways of women?"
"Probably both, seeing as your charm and sparkling personality hasn't enveloped me yet."
"I'll try harder. Let's go find the food."
YOU ARE READING
Remade
Teen FictionShe was originally just some foster kid taking a chance on the streets. She faced the daily dangers and learned how tough and cruel the world and its inhabitants are. But she was given a new chance. She was taken in and began working at the Institut...
