Delta: A Spy Novel

Chapter Two

Hey, y'all! Here's chapter 2... sorry it took so long, but I was away. So... um, please keep reading, and tell your friends about it! And please please please vote, it would mean so much! i really want to see more than 4 votes for this story by next week, please! Thanks so much, and comment! I don't have any comments and it makes me so sad... please comment, guys, even if it's to tell me that this sucks. Really. I mean it. Just don't be too harsh... but i can take critique, i promise. Thanks so much!!

<3 vb123321

P.S. pic of Josh --------------------->

Chapter Two

♥            Astrid         ♥

            Airplanes in general are boring. Unless you’re flying them yourself. Which I wasn’t, as I sat slumped in a seat on a plane flying for France. France! Of all the countries I could be sent to…I wasn’t really the Paris sort of girl; personally I didn’t care about the big city stuff. And did France even have French fries? I hadn’t thought to ask anyone before I left.

            Pity.

            I glanced across the aisle to where Josh was sitting, his head back and eyes closed, earphones snaking out of his ears. Most likely asleep. As a typical teenage boy, he spent every minute he could asleep. As I should have been. I sighed, staring blankly out the window. The movie in front of me had long since ended, and it had been boring anyway. The flight attendant assumed that since my passport was French that I would enjoy watching a movie in that language.

            I was fluent in the French language, and my passport was French as part of my cover, but that wasn’t the point. And people always claim they can spot an American in a crowd? Yeah right. I must have looked the stereotype picture of a teenage American girl so bored it had to be illegal. But maybe that’s just me.

            It seemed to take hours – okay, it actually was hours – to finally land in Marseilles. I knew next to nothing about France, but I could tell by the way that the sun was shining that I definitely wanted to get to one of those famous southern beaches. But of course, my first trip to France would be work.

            I stepped out of the plane, Josh right behind me. According to our passports, we were cousins or something, visiting France to see relatives. I personally was very glad that Pierre was not a relative. I mean, you can’t date your cousin, can you?

            Josh shoved me in the back as we grabbed our bags. “We take a taxi to that hotel right outside of town, remember?” he said.

            I rolled my eyes. “Josh: two things. (A) I’m not stupid, and (b) does the word photographic memory mean anything to you?”

            He grinned, making his blue-green eyes sparkle. A blonde French girl standing behind us gave a little gasp, running her eyes over him. I thought about rolling my eyes again but decided not too. Not worth it, I thought, looking at the girl’s decidedly slutty outfit. Just another French chick. I had the feeling we were going to be meeting a fair number of them.