Undercover: A Romance

Chapter Ten

For the next two weeks I went through the motions of going to school and socializing. I never talked to one student for longer than a class period and I dodged everyone in between classes. Amanda was a different story though. I sat with her and Leslie and Adam at lunch and we laughed and carried on. Inside I knew that getting close to them was a bad thing, but I knew that I had to at least make them seem like my best friends so I wouldn't blow my cover. If I treated EVERY student in the school like children, they would think I'm either arrogant or a bitch, or both. This would cause problems for me in the end. So I allowed myself to become "friends" with the three kids.

Amanda had it in her head that I was her new "bestie" and Leslie was in agreement because I was "Totally awesome", as she put it. Amanda talked to me every chance she got. She'd find me in the hallways and talk to me. She'd talk to me when she had the chance during classes. I had never had a best friend before, but I had seen enough movies to know that best friends talked all the time. To me, Amanda was annoying. In my opinion she talked way to much. I had never encountered one who could talk as much as her. Don't get me wrong. I like the girl. But sometimes her lungs needed to shrivel a bit.

In the classes Amanda wasn't in I kept to myself. By now most of the students knew I liked not being bothered. I guess that the air around me put me in the catagory of being unapproachable. The only person who would have the nerves to approach me in these classes was Austin. I found out that he's funny. I had to give him credit. He's extremely cute. But he was to young for me. Plus I had my eyes on someone else...

Mr. Matthews and I continued our ritual of speaking lightly during the day until we reached seventh period. During seventh period we let loose with each other. We cracked jokes most of the time. Occasionally we would have a serious conversation with each other. Thankfully he never strayed onto a topic where I would have to lie to him. So I never did. I answered all of his questions truthfully and I was happy to do so. I could tell that he was one hundred percent honest with me too. The feelings inside me continued to grow. He made me feel warm inside. When I was near him I felt as if I was supposed to be there with him. But when I left I felt odd. Halfway empty, if you would.

I wanted to quickly finish the mission so I could tell him the truth. I knew that I would not be able to tell him my occupation unless we were planning to get married. But I at least wanted to tell him my real name. I knew that he would be mad though. He'd be angry that I hadn't had the decency to tell him my real name or age. He'd feel as if I lied to him about everything when in truth I only lied about my name and age. I was warned from an early age about what would happen if I got romantically involved with someone during a mission who wasn't CIA. Everytime I thought about how I was told it would play out, my heart sunk. For the first time in my life I was afraid.

I had been captured, held at gun point, shot, tortured by foreigners, but I was never afraid. I knew there would be two possible outcomes. One: I would die. I was taught from an early age that I could die early. But I believe in God and I prayed every night. Granted I'm not a saint, but at least I try to be a good Christian. The second outcome is that I, or someone else, would get me out of the predicament. Those were two concrete outcomes. But with Mr. Matthews, I had no idea what to expect. That's what made me afraid.

I had another problem to worry about however. My Italian teacher, Remmy, was still a mystery. The agency did not like that I had an unknown possible threat in my midst. They felt as if I couldn't keep my eyes on him and James at the same time. I knew something was off about him. I don't know if it was his slightly Arab accent or the fact that each time I tried to get to know him in class (by talking to him in Italian so no other student knew what I was saying) he completely shut down and asked about me instead. Something was off about him. I warned the agency to keep a close eye on him at all times. But I focused on the mission at hand.

It was a Monday afternoon when an agent finally showed up at my door. John had finally found the right person for this. Her name is Camilla Vanderbelt. She was at least two inches shorter than me with straight blonde hair and dull blue eyes. Her complextion was pale but she had a light pink tint to her cheeks. She was a pretty girl. She looked no more than fifteen, but I soon found out she was nineteen. She was sweet but had a hardness to her which came from being an agent. Her voice was soft but forceful, as if she was a born leader. We made plans for our mission as the night went on and we made very good acquaintances.