The Other Side

Three Teenagers. One Spy: Chapter 11

 It was ten o’clock at night and what was I doing? Sleeping? Writing in my diary? Nope, you guessed wrong. I was sitting half asleep in Malcolm’s office for no reason. None. He barely acknowledged I was there. Well, if you count typing furiously on his keypad, acknowledging my presence then . . . You’re weird.

    “Can I go now?” I asked him, my eyes threatening to close. I know, I know. It’s only ten. But I had done some training and learning and I was seriously poofed out. 

    Morris shook his head and started typing again. Occasionally he would sigh and his eyes would go big.

    I glanced at the clock subtly at first. But when it struck twelve I couldn’t help it, I stared it down. If looks could burn into things that clock would be done for.

    Just as my eyes drooped I heard someone shout-slash-squeal (more squeal), “Malcolm!”

    My eyes shot open and I saw a tall girl run to give Morris a hug. She looked as if she had just stepped out of ‘’Mazement Magazine’ with her jet-black long hair (might I say, it totally looked genuine!) and her perfect face that was without a blemish. Her clothes were perfect and showed off her long legs. She was wow.

    And here I was with my Gothic clothing, my died shoulder length black hair and my groggy looking face.

    “Hello, sis! Amy, how long has it been?” She said to me.

    Oh, this was my cover sister.  Now it made a little more sense.

    I tried to remember her name. Abi, I was sure. Letting instinct take over, I smiled “Abi! How is France this time of season?” I said, making every word up.

    “She’s good,” ‘Abi’ said, turning to Morris. He nodded and I stood up, walking over to them.

    “This is Lori,” Morris grinned – does he ever smile? – “this is Tansy May.”

    Her face dropped and her big blue eyes filled with excitement, “The Tansy May?”

   “The one and only.” Morris replied.

    “Huh?” was all I could muster. There I was next to a gorgeous Lori and a mysterious Morris and I was the object of conversation.

    “You’re Rona’s daughter, right?” She asked me.

    I smiled; my mom must have been awesome, “Uh-huh. I am.” I said with an innocent nod.

    “So?” Lori began, turning back to Morris with a smile, “When does the mission start?”

    He laughed, “Two days. For now, you share a room. I had someone put another bed in. Get to know each other, you are sisters.”

    Lori smiled brightly, “Okay! I’ll start. I’m 18 in August, how about you?”

    “18 in November,” I said. The ‘cover’ was right. She was older than me.

    “And I’m,” a voice I knew too well interrupted, “19 next year. I win!”

    We both turned towards the office door. Lori threw herself on the couch and I crossed my arms, “What are you doing up?”

    Dylan chuckled waving his arms in the air, “Well, I was sleeping, but some mental people were squealing and talking. So I woke up.”

    I rolled my eyes, Lori laughed, “and I wonder who those mental people are.”