How to Raise an Assassin

CHAPTER 3: I FINALLY MAKE A FRIEND

Yes, I know the chapter title sounds pathetic, but hear me out.

Rumors spread across my prep school, Crown's Academy for Future Leaders (CA). People suspected my family was a part of the Reapers, and no one wanted to be friends with a kid whose family were gang members. I wouldn't blame them. I didn't even want to be involved with my family.

Ashton was the exception to this rule.

Ash wasn't exactly eye candy. In fact, his name matched his dark skin—dry to the point of looking like ash. He wasn't the strongest looking guy in the classroom as he walked into my seventh grade Spanish class. His eyes were pale brown, like the inside of bark torn from the trunk of a tree.

Yet, his hair was black, and shiny, styled like Elvis Presley. He had a smile that could make dead flowers bloom; and his voice sounded mature and confident like a competent leader.

After the teacher introduced him to the class, he sat at the only empty seat in the room—the one next to me.

Today was conversation day, my least favorite day. It usually ended up with me awkwardly trying to find a partner to pair up with to practice Spanish conversation on a particular topic. As I said before, people viewed me as the plague so I kind of had it rough finding anyone to chat with.

But with Ash being new, he had no clue who I was. "Hola, puedo hablar contigo?" He sounded like a Texan trying to speak Spanish. I chuckled at how he said "con-TIN-go."

I turned my chair towards him. "Por supuesto."

The topic was food. I found out he was a huge fan of ice cream, which we debated whether it actually counted as food or not. His favorite flavor was rocky road. I had to ask him what rocky road even consisted of.

"Tiene almendras con chocolate, helado de chocolate, y..." he paused thinking. "I don't know how to say marshmallow in Spanish."

"Malvavisco," I said thinking that was a horrid flavor. I'll stick to pistachio.

A former student of CA stopped by the classroom and the Spanish teacher started to chat with the guy. Meanwhile, the rest of the class used this time to chat and gossip in English.

"The name's Ashton in case you forgot, but you can call me Ash." He pointed to his skin. "You can't miss me."

At least he owned up to it. "My name is Zaslay, but you can call me Zay."

"Zaslay," he repeated in that deep voice of his. "Epic name. Sounds like a superhero's name."

I almost coughed up my lungs. "Far from it."

"So tell me Zay," he folded his hands and leaned closer. "Do these kids strike you as..."

He searched around the classroom. Most of the gossip was about us. Eyes glanced in our direction. Dangerous accusations were thrown in the air, mostly revolving around Ash dying.

"Assholes?" I completed.

Ash smiled. "Looks like we're on the same page."

I sat back impressed that I found another person who wasn't blind at this school. "What made you transfer here?"

"My dad," he said. "He just got a new job. He said I couldn't go to the local public school anymore, so he sent me here thinking I'd be safer."

"A new job, huh? What does he do?"

Ash leaned in a bit excited. "He's the new Mayor of Chicago."

I've heard a lot about the new mayor of Chicago from my father's rants. Mayor Dayton ran on an anti-corruption campaign, guaranteeing to clear out the politicians in the city that were controlled by the international corporations or powerful organizations.