My Geek of a Fake Boyfriend Works for the CIA?

Chapter 7

Guess whaaat? My Geek of a Fake Boyfriend Works for the CIA? is #212 on the what's hot list! WOOOOOT! I LOVE YOU GUYS! I really didn't expect it to be this popular... but maybe people have this thing for agent guys/tough chicks/creepy stalker letters? Eh, who can blame 'em. So, since this is all SOOO wonderful, I'm uploading again! (Also because as of the moment I have nothing better to do. But you don't need to know that. Hehe.) Read on.

 Chapter 7-

~Ainsley's POV~

 I hauled my equipment out of the janitor closet, scowling when I saw Geek stroll down the hall towards me. I lifted my chin and waltzed out the entrance doors, relieved to see that people were already driving away in buses and getting into their cars.

 I walked down the steps and crossed to the parking lot, setting my paint, rag, and paintbrush on the ground. I had JUST straightened up when someone's hands covered my eyes and everything went black.

 "Peek-a-boo." I turned around, grinning, and leapt into his arms.

 "KYLE! YOU'RE BACK!" I shouted happily, wrapping my legs around his torso. He hugged me back and laughed.

 "Yeah, France was a blast. Those French babes..." I smacked him on the arm.

 "Please tell me you didn't actually seduce one." I gave him a Look. His grin only stretched wider.

 "Nope. I found out they just can't handle this," he motioned to his body and I rolled my eyes, wiggling out of his grasp and sliding down until I stood on my feet again.

 "Oh sure, sure, that's the reason. Face it, Palmer. They're just not into you." He gave me a horrified face and glanced down at his body in disbelief.

 "You've gotta be kidding me! I was the hottest guy on the streets!"

 "Which isn't saying anything..." I muttered under my breath. He glared at me and crossed his arms, his lower lip jutting out.

 "Just kidding!" I said brightly.

 "You better be. Now, what's this about detention?" Kyle asked, eyeing the painting equipment next to my feet.

 I shrugged. "I punched a guy."

 "NICE!" he whooped. "Wait... why? Did he touch you? Was it that d-bag Landon?" he interrogated me mercilessly, his tone angry.

 "Calm down! Sheesh, Kyle. You know as well as I do that I can take care of myself." I smirked at him and he sighed in relentance.

 "That doesn't mean you should always have to. But seriously, was it that Landon guy?"

 "Nope." I said, popping the 'p'. I bent down and removed the lid of the white paint, throwing the rag over my shoulder again and dipping the brush into the creamy whiteness.

 "Holy crap. Ainsley, did you get in a fight?" Kyle asked, his eyes wide in excitement and disbelief. I grinned mischievously.

 "Maybe..." I waited until his jaw dropped slightly before laughing.

 "As if. I just punched some nerd who happens to be the new student." I shrugged and kneeled down, repainting the parking line with wide, strong strokes.

 "Why?"

 "He insulted me."

 "How?"

 "Jeez, Kyle! This isn't twenty questions." I said exasperatedly. He rolled his eyes and sat on the curb.