Once Again an Assasin

Chapter One: Hot chocolate doesn't always answer your problems

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"Mmm..." I moan, as the hot yet sweet liquid travels down my throat. Sara laughs, "I'm starting to think that you like that hot chocolate too much."

I stare at her seriously, my eyes not once leaving her's.

"And...?"

"You do know that we're high school right? It's embarrassing to have a best friend that acts like some hyper six year old on caffeine," she says, playfully rolling her eyes.

I stick my tongue out at her. "Proves my point," she mutters. Before I can reply with a witty comment of my own, Sara's phone rings. "Hello?" she greets bringing her phone up to her ear. "Hi babe... You mean now?... Okay, see you at 7. Love yah." She stuffs the phone back in her bag, then gives me an apologetic look.

"Go, go," I say, shooing her away. Her face brightens, and she stands up walking towards the exit. "Remember to use protection!" I yell, a sly grin on my face. I could feel an embarrassed glare peirce my back, but without looking at Sara, I wave her away. Chuckling, I place a 10 dollar bill on the table, and leave the coffee shop myself.

Walking alone on the quiet street, I suddenly hear a coin drop on the rocky pavement. I instinctively turn my head towards the sound to see an attractive teenager about my age smirking at me. Oh no. I release eye contact from him, turning away. I start walking in the other direction increasing pace with each step, next thing I know, I'm running. I know I'm too slow (thanks to these damn heels) when an arm pins me to the ground with a loud thud! I lay on my back as the boy pushes me harder, so that my shoulder hit the pavement painfully. Thankfully, I knew this trick well.

I grabbed the boy's shoulder, pushing it forward. I twist my body then place my leg over his chest so that he had no chance of escape. The boy grins stupidly. He was as handsome as I remembered. The same dark brown hair with caramel highlights and warm chocolatey eyes. I scanned his outfit, black fit v-neck shirt and skinny jeans. Figures.

I couldn't help noticing other tiny features. Thanks to my leg, a bit of his shirt was pulled up, revealing a six pack that didn't seem to be there before. He had light grey bags circling his brown eyes and a small scar near his eyebrow, but it was to be expected considering what he did as a job. Despite all that, he still had the exact same grin plastered on his face.

"Like what you see?" He asks, smirking.

"Shut up asshole, what does Wren want?" I snap, putting my hands on my hips. He smiles at me amused by my words. "Wren is dead, Oscar took over years ago."

"Oscar!? that strick prick?"

He raises an eyebrow, "Yeah, it seems that Wren took a liking of him." I decide to change the subject.

"How's the agency?" I ask, rapidly tapping my foot on the floor.

"Not that bad," He replies, motioning with his hands.

"Ooh, That bad huh?" I tease, a sliver of pity in my tone.

"Yeah," He admits, running a hand through his hair.

Hope fluttering in his eyes, he continues, "We are in need of some more agents or assasins."

"No-!" I start, but he cuts me off.

"Wait, before you say anything come with me. Oscar wants to talk with you." I roll my eyes and follow him knowing that he wouldn't stop bugging me until I do.

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"Kristina!" Oscar greets happily as we enter his office.