Spyincs

Chapter One - Packing

Tuesday, August 30th, 2011: 5:15 PM

“Dude, you’re messing up my hair!” I complained, ducking away from Erik’s broad hand. I hated when he ruffled my hair, and he knew it.

Erik merely grinned. “Sorry, Silvie, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

I glared daggers at him. “Of course you couldn’t,” I replied scathingly. “It’s just ‘in your nature to annoy me’, right?”

“Yup!” The smug look on his face didn’t disappear. I stuck my tongue out at him, and turned back to the tornado that was my room. “Real mature, Silvie,” Erik scoffed.

“When I’m with you, I don’t have to be mature,” I shot back, my violet eyes showing my annoyance.

Erik frowned slightly. “Touché…” he muttered, and he looked away.

There was an awkward pause as I tried to determine what on earth I was supposed to bring, and how I was supposed to find it in my room.

“You really need to clean your room,” Erik remarked, an amused note in his voice.

I chucked a shoe at his head. He deftly dodged out of the way, grinning all the while. I frowned at him, and then turned back to my room.

It had been one week since I had to break off my relationship with David, and, even though I knew that it was necessary, I wasn’t ready to forgive Erik yet. There was an irrational part of me that felt that all my misery was due to him, even though that wasn’t the case at all.

“Silvie, you need to get a move on, or we’ll be late,” Erik reminded me for the umpteenth time that day.

“Shut your face, Baker,” I snapped, and I chucked another shoe at him. I heard a grunt of pain, and then something large hit the ground. I glanced over my shoulder, and saw Erik curled up in the fetal position on my floor. I smirked; I had hit him right where it hurt the most. “That’s what you get,” I said smugly, and, again, turned back to my room.

I crossed to my closet and pulled the door open. I crouched down, and started rummaging through the crap that was piled in it, looking for my blue duffel bag. The list that Erik had given me the day before said to only bring a duffel bag full of my clothes, a backpack with my personal items, like electronics and other things like that, and a tote bag filled with other “feminine products”. I was going to stuff these bags to the brim with all my stuff; I wasn’t about to let anything sit in my room and gather dust.

“You know,” Erik piped up, finally recovering from my attack, “you could be suspended for doing that to your mentor, Silv.” He crossed my room to my bed and flopped down on it with a sigh.

I climbed out of the closet, having found my duffel bag, my largest backpack, and my biggest tote bag. I tossed the bags in front of my door, and prodded Erik in the stomach. The dark-haired sixteen-year-old looked at me, confused. “Feet off the bed,” I instructed, pinching his leg.

“Ow!” Erik complained. “Dude, you’re violent!” He kicked his legs off of my bed, rubbing his shin.

“I wonder why,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice. “It couldn’t be because I grew up having to deal with two younger twin brothers, and you, could it?” I stuck my tongue out at him, and starting moving about my room, picking up the stuff that I wanted and tossing them on the bed—on top of my “mentor”.

Erik looked at me, his dark brown eyes wide and innocent. “Whatever gave you that idea?” he asked, his tone confused. I raised another shoe—this time, a six-inch stiletto—threateningly at him. He winced, and then grinned. “It could also be your obsession with video games like Call of Duty and Halo,” he suggested. I just rolled my eyes, and continued to throw my clothes on him. “What am I, your clothes bin?” he complained.