Chapter 24
High school sucks. I'll say it loud and clear. HIGH SCHOOL SUCKS! The classes Ariana have are boring as hell (my tutoring sessions were so much better). I had to sit through a forty-five minute lecture on "How to Act when a Substitute Teacher is in the room." You'd think high school students, especially at an academy as prestigious as Lancaster, would know by now how to act when a substitute teacher was in the room but no. Apparently, they had a bad note from the substitute teacher they'd had yesterday. What is this, Kindergarten?! They're freaking seniors in freaking high school!
By the time lunch rolled around, I was exhausted. Ready to go back to the White House. Seniors are allowed to go off campus for lunch. Ariana, Claire, and another girl they introduced to me as Kristen (Pink Hair from earlier) wanted to go to a cafe they enjoyed for lunch. Being Ariana's bodyguard, I had no choice but to go. Ariana hid her eyes with sunglasses and her hair with a hood like a superstar walking around Los Angeles...or the First Daughter walking around Washington DC.
"I mean do you see her outfit? All black? What is she, goth?" Claire hissed in a low tone.
She didn't need to whisper. I knew she was talking about me by the way she kept glancing over her shoulder at me in her peripheral. I don't care honestly. This is my uniform. She's a spoiled brat who cries when her nail breaks, just like Ariana's old self. No wonder they got along so well. Ariana shrugged. I skirted around a group of Japanese tourists, talking in rapid-fire Japanese I understood clearly.
"Claire, lay off. She's not goth. I told you earlier in chem, it's her uniform. She wears it over protective gear." Ariana said, confirming my suspicions.
Claire scowled.
"Okay, what crawled up your ass and died today, Ari? You're different. Very different."
Ariana shrugged again, looking down at the group while Kristen dragged her and Claire into the cafe. It was a small place with barely anyone in there. A guy sat in a booth, typing furiously on his laptop and sipping a large cup of coffee. A woman sat in a corner booth, reading a book with an untouched muffin on the table in front of her. Nobody else was in the cafe besides the employees. I kept my sunglasses on and pulled my hair out of it's ponytail, concealing my comms unit. A Miranda Lambert song filtered through the tinny speakers. I placed my hands on my hips, scanning the cafe and standing close to the girls while they ordered. The girl at the cash register squealed when Ariana took off her glasses and hood.
"OMG! OMG! OMG! I LOVE YOU, ARIANA!" she said, jumping up and down.
Ariana smiled as Kristen and Claire speared the girl with their eyes. The girl's red curls bounced as she jumped up and down excitedly. Jeez. Calm your tits, girl. Ariana's not, like, a superstar or anything...unless you count being the president's daughter as superstar quality...never mind. I stepped closer to the girls, watching the employee. Her brown eyes sparkled with joy and giddiness as she had Ariana sign her green apron and take a picture with her. Hm. Just like in the hospital. I read the girl's name tag. Maryelise.
After taking their orders and giving them to the girls (not charging Ariana), Kristen, Claire, and Ariana filed into a booth and started to eat. I stood by the front counter, leaning against the glass display case that held delicious looking cakes and pies. Maryelise washed the counter, glancing at Ariana's table ever so often. I watched her carefully. Sure, she's probably just an excited fan but looks can be deceiving. For all I know, she could be a Russian spy sent to infiltrate the government. I smirked. Her? A Russian spy? Yeah right. She's not the spy type. Too bubbly.
The front door's bell tinkled happily. I turned my head to face the door. A familiar person stood by the door, a slow, sexy smile pulling at the corners of his lips. I blushed, looking down at my feet and cursing the attractive individual. Damn him. He walked over to me, his shoes soon finding their way into my vision. I looked up and put on a completely fake smile. My ex-boyfriend, Tanner. His hair was still the sandy blonde I remembered from when we broke up a few months before I was assigned to the McGallen's. His blue eyes twinkled. He towered above me, but I could take him in a fight any day. I've taken on men who are six foot eleven and bulky with muscle. I always win. Always.
"Hello, Ember. Didn't expect to see you here." he said, raising an eyebrow.
I placed my hands on my hips and tried to act casual. I still had a burning hatred for him. Why did we break up? Well, one, he slept with his slutty friend, Mara, in the Hamptons during Spring Break. Two, he lied to me twice, denying that he slept with Mara and saying over and over that he loved me. And, three, he's just an asshole in general. He was never my type. We didn't date very long. Three weeks at most. Garret always warns me about dating civilians. Don't tell them anything. Any boy you meet could be a possible hit, especially if all he's trying to do is get you in bed with him. I'm careful. I know what to tell and what not to. I'm a big girl.
"Well, you know, I was just walking around when I saw this place. I thought you moved to Canada with your dad?" I lied, smiling politely.
He shook his head, smiling his signature smile. If I didn't hate his guts I'd say he was sexy. Fortunately, I do and I also know he's nothing but a lazy-assed, class-A douchebag. I feel sorry for any girl who he dates. Yes, I feel sorry for me too. It was a waste of three weeks dating him. Three weeks I will never get back...
"I decided to stay here. So, are you trying to go for a new look or something?" he asked, his eyes taking their precious time raking over me.
I bit my tongue to keep from retorting. I clenched my fists to keep from hitting him straight-up. I wonder how Laptop Guy, Book Lady, Maryelise, Kristen, Claire, and Ariana would react if I pulled a James Bond on him...
"I'm working, thank you very much." I answered, restraining myself from performing a badass karate move straight out of a spy movie.
"Really? Where do you work, might I ask?" he said, raising an eyebrow.
He asks too many questions.
"I work for the State Department. As an intern." I answered, using the regulated answer I learned back when I was training.
He didn't seem to buy it.
"Why don't I believe you?" he asked.
"Because you're an asshole, Trey." I retorted.
Trey smirked. I crossed my arms over my chest. He looked down at my chest.
"My eyes are up here!" I said, annoyed, grabbing his chin and bringing his eyes back to my face.
He smirked and walked over to Maryelise, turning around to order but glancing at me occasionally. I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore when his eyes were on me. Honestly, what is his deal? We broke up such a long time ago and now he just seems oh-so interested in me. Something's strange about him. He's different. Even his clothes (jeans, a cotton t-shirt, and tan jacket) are different. He hated tan jackets when we dated. Hated them. Now he just so happens to be wearing one. I'll ask Simon to run his name later.
I turned to look at Ariana's table to see the girls, mercifully, packing up their napkins and throwing them away. Ariana motioned for me to follow as she linked arms with her friend again and concealed her identity. I ignored Trey as I stalked away, feeling his eyes dig into my back like daggers. Oh boy. I have a feeling I'm going to be seeing him a bit more often. I'm not looking forward to it. At all. Welcome to my screwed-up love life.
YOU ARE READING
Presidents, Spies, and Boys, Oh My!
Teen FictionWhat if you one day fell in love with a boy you weren't supposed to? What if that boy was your employers son? Seventeen year old Ember Rhinehart has been raised to become a CIA operative. Training ever since she could walk, she knows sixteen langua...