I wake up to the feel of soft fleece. Before I open my eyes, I recollect what happened last night.
I found out Jason Shore is my new spy partner, we snuck onto a ship, and I fell asleep among a bunch of containers...wait...then how am I feeling fleece?
I open my eyes. There’s a faded blue blanket draped overtop of me. When I sit up further, I notice Jason sitting on the concrete floor with his back resting against a metal box.
“Hey,” I say groggily, trying to ignore the pinch in my neck from the uncomfortable position I slept in, “What are you doing here?” my mind starts to kick into full gear and I suddenly panic, ignoring my sore muscles “Where you followed?” I look up and over a crate, trying to look for any signs of an enemy.
“Calm down,” Jason held his hands up, “I wasn’t followed. It’s two in the morning.”
“Oh,” I relax against the back of the container, “Why are you here so early? I’d think you’d be sleeping.”
“Why would you think that?” Jason snaps back, “Cause I’m a pop star?” he uses halfhearted jazz hands for effect.
I don’t speak my mind because he’s right. I don’t want to hurt his feelings but I’m not overly please that he’s my partner.
“I decided,” Jason changes the subject, pulling a paper bag full of food from beside him and takes an apple out, “I’ll bring you food once early in the morning so they won’t follow me, then I can still get to bed and they won’t suspect me.”
I reach up and take the elastic out of my hair, shaking out my ponytail, “That’s smart, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be careless. They’ll be guards,” I reach into my backpack and pull out a brush, running it through my hair a few times. Being a spy means running around and running around means knotted hair. I normally wouldn’t care because Keith doesn’t. But for some reason, with Jason here, I feel the need to look presentable. I think that the fact that he’s internationally known freaks me out a little bit. Maybe his popularity gives me the feeling that he’s more judgmental because he gets everything he wants.
“Guards? On a cargo ship in the middle of the Atlantic ocean?” he scoffs, “Please, get real.”
“No, you get real!” I finish brushing my hair and return the bush to my backpack, “You’re a spy now. You need to suspect someone is watching you all the time, even at night. I’ve learned that when you think no one is watching you is when someone usually is; it’s just your mind trying to sooth your fears.”
“Your paranoid,” he comments.
“I am not paranoid,” he starts to protest but I cut him off, “If anything, they’ll have more guards with you on board. If anything happens to you in their care, the court will blame them. Your manager will sue them or something. They want to protect their financial state. I’d think you'd know, it’s all about the money for some people,” I add a cold glare to my last statement.
“Whoa!” Jason throws his hands up in surrender, “I think you need to hear the whole story before you start accusing me of things,” he narrows his eyes and speaks in a low voice,
“And I know you’d be surprised at some of the things that are part of my history.”
“All right then,” I cross my arms, “Maybe you should share then. After all, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together on this ship and then in Rio.”
“Nah,” he stands up, “Let’s do that another time.”
Irritated, I throw the blanket off me and stand up so I look him in the eye, “Training then.
YOU ARE READING
Common Ground
Teen FictionAria works for the WTUA or Worldwide Teen Undercover Agency. She and her partner Keith are known as the best team in the whole agency but how can you be the best when you only have half of the team? On an assignment in Brazil, Keith is captured, le...
