Nothing Personal

Poisons and People

I always get into trouble. Somehow my instincts always cause me to do the wrong things. For instance, helping-the-injured was an instinct before I was the person injuring them. But being through the heavy assassin training kinda alters your instincts. In this case, someone putting their hand on my shoulder would normally trigger turning around to see who it is. In my case it was more like a 'grab-wrist-of-stranger-and-twist-their-arm-up-their-back' instinct.

So there I was, walking through the crowded corridors towards what I would guess is the main hall when bam! I felt a hand clamp over my shoulder. Now, as I sit here outside of the principles office, I realize that I can only truly blame the academy for training me like this. I instantly went into defense mode, twisting the poor guys arm up his back. My actions were definitely too hostile, I've never seen a persons expression go from friendly to terrified as fast as his did.

So instantly I darted away, concealing my face within the hood of my jacket...only to be caught for running in the passages by a stocky blonde wearing a badge that read 'hall monitor' and was now sitting on a couch outside of the principles office alongside other offenders. I sighed and removed my hoodie, shoving it into my backpack. The other two people outside of the office were obviously older than I judging by their height, slight stubble and arrogance.

The first boy (whom I had nicknamed Blondie in my mind) walked into the tiny reception area smoking a cigarette and plopped his feet with their chunky leather boots onto the tiny table, flipping boredly through a magazine he'd nicked from a teachers desk. I know that lil' bit of information because he announced it to the receptionist, who curled her lip up in disgust and smiled apologetically in my direction.

The other blonde held a striking resemblance to the first one, leading me to believe that they were twins. They had the same golden hair (though Blondie looked as though he had never seen a comb in his life) and the same startlingly blue eyes. He had waltzed in, lipstick stain on his collar (meaning that he was probably caught engaging in PDA) and had started dropping pick up lines on the girl sitting in the corner, reading. No, not me this time. In the other corner was a brunette, her hair caught neatly out of her face by an up style braid. She wore black jeans similar to mine and a plain white top and was sitting curled up in a couch in the corner, peering through her glasses at a book with only red binding.

The words were written in gold on the spine but were too far away for me to understand. I couldn't quite place her presence in this room, she didn't appear to be a trouble maker - but then again nor do I, never judge a book by its cover - and she looked too comfortable to be in trouble. She kept glancing in my direction, then the second I met her glance her eyes fluttered away, resting on a random object such as the hideous painting that hung on the wall behind me or the beige mat with an even more beige stain on it.

"Hey babe, this seat taken." Blondie said, getting out of his singular chair. It took me a while to realize he was talking to me. I raised my eyebrow. "No, but neither will mine if you sit down." I couldn't help but say. Lipstick-stain shirt smiles at that and the girl in the corner giggled a bit. Blondie didn't seem fazed. "Ooo, feisty. So, what are you here for?" He said with a wink, plopping himself next to me on the couch and lighting up a cigarette. I made a point of moving to the absolute edge of the couch before answering the question honestly and with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Twisted an annoying guys arm up his back when he wouldn't stop hitting on me."

Okay, so maybe my idea of honesty isn't exactly, well, honest. I am a professional liar. But hey, that shut him up PLUS freed up the couch. "Jonas Clark, the principal will see you now." The receptionist called out. I briefly noted that other than "Can I help you?", that's practically the only thing she seems to say. Blondie rose, rolling his eyes and putting out his cigarette by smashing the tip against the table. He nodded, seemingly towards lipstick-stain shirt then he strolled lazily into the principals office, then kicked the door closed behind him."Don't be fooled by my brother." Lipstick-stain shirt said suddenly, smiling at me. I realized he had a slight accent, whereas his brother didn't. "He's intelligent in some way, I'm sure of it."