I swat his hand away and storm off toward my room.
Well… our room because I am definitely stuck with West now, whether I like it or not.
Later that night, as everybody is going to bed, West comes into the room, grabs his covers and pillows off his bed and leaves the room. A few hours later, I find him asleep on the couch.
I don’t know what’s worse—rooming with West or him thinking I’m so bad that he’d rather sleep on the couch than be in the same room with me.
Tuesday, August 11
Not my type.
I get dressed and ready for training. Last night, I was told that we go for a run at five o’clock every single morning. I don’t bother with a shower because I know I’ll need one when I get back. I leave my hair down, even though I usually wear it up when I work-out. Part of me wants to rebel against the guys. They were rude to me about leaving my hair down yesterday. So, I leave it down as a kind of ‘screw you’ to them.
As for my clothes, I wear what I always do. I have a lot of athletic clothes, since I spend so much time training. I wear a hot pink sports bra, an oversized t-shirt, some black athletic leggings, and my favorite running shoes. I love running, and I have one specific brand of shoes I really like.
When I step out of my room, all the guys are standing there, waiting for me. I check the time and see that I’m five minutes early.
“At least we have something cute to look at while we run,” Alek comments, his eyes slowly scanning my outfit.
I have a sudden urge to cover myself with my hands, but I don’t. Instead, I roll my eyes.
West looks at me dismissively. “She’s not my type.”
Ouch.
Not that I want to be West’s type, but he didn’t have to say it like that.
“Knock it off, guys,” Kal says.
It surprises me that Kal sort of stands up for me, especially after what happened on the plane yesterday. I kind of just assumed he was in the ‘I hate Roxy’ club.
“Let’s just go running,” Ian suggests.
West walks to the door first, his footsteps heavy on the floor. I feel bad for whoever is living below us. I’m sure a five am wakeup call from a heavy-footed neighbor is not a good way to wake up. I don’t dare say a word to West about it, not wanting him to glare at me anymore.
Alek motions me to go in front of him. I’m not sure how I feel about walking ahead of him, but I do it anyway. I glance over my shoulder and see him checking me out from behind. I roll my eyes again, turning my attention forward just as I run into West’s chest.
West has a very hard body. He doesn’t even budge as I run into him and I have to grab onto his bicep to keep myself from falling over.
“Sorry,” I say, once I steady myself. I drop my hand from him like it’s on fire.
I hear the guys laugh from behind me, but West doesn’t comment. He just hits the button to call the elevator. I’m honestly surprised we aren’t taking the steps.
None of the guys say one word as we get onto the elevator and not one word the entire ride down. The quiet is almost awkward. Every time I glance at Alek, he is looking at me. Not at my face, but he’s looking at my butt. I’m annoyed, but when I look at West, I notice he is watching me, too. I want to smart off to him and say something like ‘I thought I wasn’t your type.’ But the elevator doors open up before I can do anything stupid like that.
We go for a run on the beach, which is nice. The sun is just starting to rise, turning the sky a beautiful bright orange color as it slips over the horizon. The water sparkles where the sun hits it, making me wish that I were out there swimming. I love running, but there is something so magical about swimming in the ocean.
I run at the pace I always do, and I notice I pull ahead of West slightly. When he sees that I pull ahead, he runs faster, trying to stay ahead. So, I push myself to run faster, and we do this back and forth until I am sprinting. I know that I will tire soon, but I don’t want West to win, not today. I notice he pulls back a little, but I keep up my pace for a little bit longer, trying to pull more ahead. Just as I start to slow down, something rams into my back and I go tumbling down, getting a mouth full of sand. A heavy body pins me down, pulling my hair in the process.
“Ow, get off my hair!” I yell.
“That’s why you don’t try to look pretty when we’re training,” West growls in my ear. “Welcome to The Royals, Princess.”
He finally gets up, so I roll over onto my back. The guys are crowded around me, smirking. I kick West’s legs and he tumbles over, crushing me once more.
“I think she likes you, West,” Alek says.
I narrow my eyes, looking at West. “Get off me.”
“With pleasure, Princess.” He pushes himself up, climbing off of me. He brushes the sand off of himself and takes off running again, leaving me there.
I swallow back the knot in my throat, refusing to acknowledge how much their words hurt me.
I look up and spot Kal standing there still. He holds out a hand to help me up, and I accept it.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he says, taking off after the rest of the guys.
I will not cry.
I won’t.
I freaking refuse.
And the tear rolling down my face? That’s just allergies. I wipe it away, refusing to acknowledge it as I run after the guys. I catch up with them easily, but this time I just pace behind them.
I don’t know what it’s going to take for these guys to accept me as one of the team, but if they think they can bully me into quitting, then they’re idiots. I am stubborn. And the more they fight me, the more determined I am to stick around. I may have lost the fight today, but I will win the war.
I glance out at the water as we run. The sun is now up fully and it’s hot. I wish I would’ve brought an elastic band to pull my hair up.
Why do I always let my stubbornness get the best of me? I should’ve just worn my hair up this morning. Wearing it down didn’t prove anything, in fact it just further solidified West’s point. Plus, I’m sweating underneath my long locks.
Ian, who is pacing beside me, looks over at me. He studies me, like maybe he’s trying to figure me out.
Ian, I have learned, is the hacker of the group—a really good one at that. He can hack ‘literally anything,’ so Alek says. All I know is Ian sat down at the computer almost as soon as we got to the condo yesterday and he was still sitting there when I went to bed. I know he must be good to be one of The Royals. That’s the thing about Royals—they’re all incredible. Which makes me wonder, why am I here? I’m not really incredible at anything. I’m a mediocre fighter, a mediocre hacker, a mediocre student. I’ve never stood out in my life, yet I’m here.
Maybe my parents have just gotten to me. Maybe I’m better than what I think I am. After a lifetime of being told I suck, I’m bound to start believing it at some point, right? But the more I think about it, the more I think that whoever voted for me made a huge mistake and now they’re stuck with me. Or maybe they wrote down the wrong name. But nobody else is named Roxy at Spy School, not even close.
No, I was chosen. And I was chosen by one of the four men that I am currently running with, and I will figure out who voted for me. I have to.
But the more I think about it, the more confused I feel.
It could possibly be Ian. He’s the only one who hasn’t been cruel to me. But he also hasn’t been overly friendly. Not that he’s overly friendly with the guys either. He laughs at their jokes and comments every so often, but he’s mostly just a quiet guy.
It wasn’t West. I know that. He hates me. And Alek... I suppose he could’ve voted for me because he thinks I’m attractive, but even he isn’t stupid enough to vote for somebody just because of the way they look.
No, it must be somebody else.
That leaves Kal, which brings me right back around to Ian. Because there is no way Kal voted for me.
I have no idea which of these guys it
was. But it’s bound to come out at some point. Unfortunately for me, I’ve never been that patient. I just want to know now.
West, who is in the front, picks up the pace and the rest of us follow him.
Maybe we really are just a bunch of soldiers, mindlessly following our ‘leader.’
I’ll show them all.
After we finish with our run, I have exactly enough time to put my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head before we head to start our training. I am wet with sweat from our run, but I feel exhilarated. I’m excited to get back to training.
This is what I love to do. Spy School may be the life I was born into, but I love it. I can’t imagine my life being any other way.
Well… that’s not true. I could imagine me actually getting along with my teammates.
West smirks when he sees that I put my hair up, I jut my chin in his direction.
Alek chuckles. “I like stubborn women.”
I turn to the tall blond guy. “Well, I don’t like Russian men, so that’s too bad.”
The smile falls from his face and I hear Ian and Kal snicker.
“If Alek is done flirting with Princess, we have training.” West narrows his eyes at Alek’s hand, which is resting on the small of my back. I was two seconds away from shrugging his hand off, but now that I know it annoys West, I think I’ll let him keep it there.
We walk from our condo and take the stairs down to the third floor, where the training facility is. And I do mean the entire floor.
The wall that looks over the ocean is glass, so the view is incredible. There are concrete poles in the room for support. The floor is the same tile that is in our condo, and there are padded mats on the floor for us to do our training. There are also weights, treadmills, and other various exercise equipment. I’m glad I know this is here, now. It’ll be nice to blow off a little steam when I’m feeling angry.
We meet a guy who is standing by the window. He turns when he hears us coming. He’s probably in his late thirties. He has thick brown hair that has a few streaks of gray in it. He’s tall, like all Spy School agents seem to be, and he’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest. He studies us, like he’s trying to size us up. I’m glad when he doesn’t look at me any longer than he does the others.
“I am Hank, and I will be training you during your time here. I need you guys to group up into teams of two. Whoever is left will be my partner.”
I watch as Alek and West team up. Ian and Kal also team up, leaving me on my own.
I look at Hank. He doesn’t react or comment on the fact that I am the only one without a team. He just walks over to me, and we get started.
Hank is an excellent trainer and teacher, which doesn’t surprise me. Everybody at Spy School is amazing, but since he is training Royals, he’s even better than the teacher I trained with at Spy School. Not that Jasmine French isn’t amazing—she is. But Hank steps it up a notch. He doesn’t just teach me how to do the steps. When I put into practice what he teaches, he shows me exactly what I did wrong, and he explains why it’s wrong. I feel like I’m going to come out of this one lesson and be a better agent than I was when I came in here. So that is a good thing.
After about an hour of training, Hank surprises me and everybody else when he says we’re all switching partners. He says it’s not good to get complacent training with the same person all the time. The guys try to argue over who is going to be ‘stuck’ with me, so Hank decides for them.
“Tall Russian guy, you’re with the one called Princess,” Hank says.
“Roxy,” I correct.
“Roxy.” Hank smiles to let me know he’s sorry.
Alek groans. “Why do I have to be stuck with her?”
“Since when do teenage boys complain about being paired up with beautiful women?” Hank asks, shaking his head. “Just train with Roxy. If I hear anybody complain about their partner, I’ll make you run a marathon tomorrow while the rest of us train.”
Everybody shuts up after that. Nobody wants to skip a day of training to run a marathon. Even though I love running, the thought of skipping a day of training makes me cringe. Training is my favorite part of the day.
Alek stands before me, his blond hair wet with sweat. I’m sure I’m not any less sweaty. He isn’t wearing a shirt and I try to ignore how nice his chest looks. I won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking that I’m checking him out. No matter how attractive Alek is, he’s still the enemy.
“I like your hair up. I can see your face now. You’re kind of beautiful,” Alek says, making my jaw drop.
He thinks I’m beautiful?
“Uh, thanks.” I rub at the sweat on my forehead. “Are we going to stand here and braid each other’s hair, or are we going to fight?”
He laughs. “You asked for it, Roxy.”
I knew The Royals were good, but I think I underestimated just how good Alek would be. He attacks without mercy. He doesn’t hold back, and I don’t want him to. But training with him is really bad for my ego.
I thought I was a decent agent. I thought I could keep up with most of my peers. But all Alek does is prove just how very wrong I was.
Alek is incredible. Like, I look like a freshman going up against a senior when I train with him. And he smirks, like he knows he’s good. No matter how many times I swing at him, he blocks it. He knocks my arm back with ease, like he’s not even challenged at all. And he’s probably not. But me... it takes every ounce of strength to take him on. I’m barely able to keep up with him. I’m constantly one wrong move away from being on the floor.
After about ten minutes of sparring, my legs are actually shaking. I just can’t keep up with Alek. But I don’t give up because I know that is what he wants. He wants to beat me down in front of everybody, and I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Because I am so tired, I don’t see him move his leg. He knocks my feet right from underneath me and I tumble to the floor. Alek pins me down with ease, and I know I can’t get away from him now. He’s too strong. I try to fight against his hold, but he doesn’t budge, not even a little.
I hate how he smirks at me as he holds me down.
Finally, I let my arms fall at my side, my body relaxing.
“You might think you’re good enough to play with The Royals, but you are nothing.” He looks me right in the eyes as he says it. “You’re not good enough.”
His words feel worse than a slap across the face.
He gets up, loosening his hold on me, but I lie there for a few more seconds. The guys are laughing at me, even Ian, who I thought was indifferent about me. I can’t deny his words, because he did defeat me. But I’m not giving in to him. I will show him. I will show all of them.
I’m not the weak ‘Princess’ they think I am.
I get up and stand in front of Alek, ready for round two.
He snorts. “You really want to go again?”
I nod.
“Whatever you say, Princess.”
Great.
I guess Alek is calling me ‘Princess’ now too.
For the rest of our training session, I am knocked down about ten more times. But it doesn’t matter how many times he knocks me down. I am going to get back up again, and I am going to keep fighting. That’s just who I am.
You should leave.
I get a long shower after training. My body is sore after being knocked to the ground over and over again. Normally, I would put on a dress to wear, only because it’s comfortable. But since the guys insist on calling me ‘Princess,’ I skip the dress and put on a pair of shorts and t-shirt instead. It’s hot outside and I just don’t want to put on a pair of jeans right now.
We all have to take other classes than just training. I was learning Korean, but West decided that everybody should learn French, so now I am taking French classes on my computer. A teacher from Spy School is taking two hours out of her day Monday through Friday to help teach me, and I have to study on my own. I have to be fluent by December, so s
ays West. I know he only says it to be a pain, but I am not going to fail.
After we all finish our classes, it’s already getting late. Alek, West, and Kal decide they want to go out for the night. Ian can’t be bothered to leave his computer for more than a few hours, and I wasn’t invited. Actually, they went out of their way to tell me that I wasn’t invited, like they expected me to beg them to let me go or something. Trust me, the last thing I want to do is spend my free time with guys who despise me.
I watch as Alek, West, and Kal leave the condo. They say bye to Ian and conveniently ignore me. I try not to be bothered as I sit down on the oversize chair with my laptop. My French teacher sent me some kind of flash card game to play in my spare time. It’s kind of pathetic that this has become my life now. I’m sitting in the living room with Ian. He’s doing something on his laptop, though I’m not sure what. He doesn’t really talk much. Every once in a while, he will look over at me from his computer screen, but his face remains neutral. Part of me wants to say something to him. Maybe he’s waiting for me to say something first, but I don’t know what to say.
“I like your shirt,” I finally say, breaking the silence.
He’s wearing a shirt that says, ‘Disney killed Star Wars.’ I don’t really have an opinion on the franchise myself, but maybe if I start a conversation, we can bond over something.
“Thanks.” He looks down at his shirt, as if to see what he’s wearing, and then he looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “You like Star Wars?”
I shrug. “Yeah. When I was little, my dad and I both got strep throat and had to stay in bed for a week. He stayed in my room because my mom didn’t want to get sick, so we watched all six movies together. It was the best week of my life.”
He stops typing, now giving me his full attention. “The best week of your life was when you had strep throat?”
I probably shouldn’t have told him that last part. I want to connect with my teammates, but I don’t want to get into anything personal. So, I just shrug, not giving an answer either way.
The Unwanted Spy Page 3
