Chapter 2: Ashton
I walked into Lincoln High and headed to the front office. I handed the secretary my registration papers and looked around at my surroundings. It was an old school with somewhat cramped hallways, and medium sized rooms. The office itself was more of a closet really, with an oaken door leading to the principal's personal office. Several motivational posters were hung on the peeling walls. One that was on the principal’s door had the quote “I’m your princi-PAL!” which seemed a little childish for a high school, at least to me. A high, squeaky voice brought me back out of my thoughts.
“Tyler Rogers?” I heard the secretary say.
“Yeah, that’s me.” I said. My real name was actually Ashton Rivers, but The Head couldn’t go around using my real name, as Ashton Rivers was supposed to be dead. Whenever I went on these pick-up missions, I got used to agreeing that a random name was actually my own.
“Okay, so here is your schedule, and this is a map of the school. Do you need me to assign you a buddy for the day?”
“Um, no thanks. I’ll manage.” I couldn’t be following someone around all day, as they would ask questions when I kept slipping off to hidden places to have an actual conversation with The Head. Currently, I had an earpiece in my ear so I could relay everything that was happening to The Head, but I knew from experience that if I tried to have a conversation with him in the middle of english, I would get funny looks. I couldn’t have any more attention drawn to myself than I already had from being the new kid.
“Okay, so you have missed homeroom, but I will make sure you get counted in the attendance.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
As I walked out of the office, I pulled out my schedule.
“Math, Home Ec, English, Technology, Lunch, Science, Free, Spanish,” I said, under my breath as I relayed my schedule to The Head.
“You have math, home Ec, lunch, and science with the target,” his gruff voice replied in my ear.
“Okay. I will notify you when I have an eye on the target.”
“Do you have the photographs?”
“Yes I have them.” I said, referring to the pictures of the subject, Skylar Johnson. I had arrived at the math classroom, and sat in the back of the classroom just before the bell rang.
Looking around, I saw Skylar sitting near the front with another girl, who had beach blonde hair and blue eyes.
“I have visual on the subject,” I muttered under my breath.
YOU ARE READING
Saviors
Teen FictionEverybody always has that feeling that they are special. That they were meant for something more. They always wish that they had something extraordinary about them. What if you were extraordinary? What if there were others like you? What if you were...
