About ten minutes later, Logan and I walked out of the room. Scott and David were sitting on the chairs walking, eating M&M's.
"Hey, Sky." David called out.
"Yeah." I said, walking over to the chairs.
"Me and Scott where talking, then we started to wonder." David said, hogging the bowl of pretzels in his lap.
"Here it comes." Logan laughed, sitting at the bar on the bar stool.
"When you kissed us, who was the best kisser?" David finished. I laughed and grabbed a handful of M&M's.
"I forgot. Maybe I should just kiss you again." I said while sitting down on the chair next to David. I popped a couple M&M's in my mouth.
"Really?" Scott asked. I rolled my eyes.
"No." Logan started to laugh hard.
"Oh, come on, Sky." Scott whined.
"Okay, fine. The best kisser was-"
"Hello! Miss Jackson here. I want to check up on you!" Miss Jackson's face popped up on the TV. Scott and David sighed in frustration, throwing their heads back. I looked over at Logan while he was laughing.
"We're doing fine." I replied.
"Yeah, having a great time." Logan replied.
"Great! I'll call back once your jet lands in Russia. Bye bye!" Miss Jackson face went off the screen, and I looked back at Scott and David.
"Okay, who's the best kisser?" David asked quickly. I laughed again.
"How about this. I'll tell Logan, who the best kisser is, and if I die, then he'll tell you." I smiled.
"No!" Scott and David yelled. I got up from my chair and walked over to Logan. I put my left hand on his shoulder and leaned into his ear.
"Pretend I'm saying a name, and act surprised." I whispered. I back up and took my hand off from his shoulder.
"Really? He's the best kisser?" Logan asked. I nodded.
"Who?!" David and Scott asked.
"I never thought he was the best kisser."
"Who?!"
YOU ARE READING
Teenage Assassin
Teen FictionSkylar King is a girl with a double life. During the day, she is your average teenage girl, then at night, she becomes an assassin. Her life was going pretty well, until a British agent from her school becomes partners with her to save the world fro...
