I feel an arm go around my shoulders, and I know without looking that it is Killian.
“Why do you look so sad all a sudden?” Killian raises an eyebrow at me.
I frown. “It’s because I realize that I’m, like, the girl version of you.”
He laughs, grabbing on my arm and pulling me into the classroom with him.
The first half of my day passes in a blur.
In most schools, teachers will go easy on you for the first day and slowly ease their way into the lessons. At Spy School, that’s not at all the case. They expect you to come to class already knowing your stuff. Three teachers give us a pop quiz, and it’s just now lunch.
After lunch, we have training. Seniors get a two-hour long session to end their day, and I am quite all right with that. I didn’t get to go running this morning and my legs are feeling tense.
I decide to eat a very light lunch before training. Once I have my food, a smoothie and a protein bar, I am left with the awkwardness of finding somewhere to sit down.
Since I was homeschooled my whole life, I’ve never had to do this before. Do I walk up to a table and ask if I can sit with them? Or do I just try to sit on my own? Do I wait for somebody to ask me?
Eh. I’m nineteen. I’m too old for the insecure high school stuff, so I take a deep breath and walk toward a table. I am just going to sit down, and I won’t bother asking.
I spot a girl with pink hair sitting by herself at the edge of the cafeteria. I’m not sure what it is about her that draws me to her, but I want to know this girl. Maybe it’s because she’s brave enough to dye her hair pink. Or maybe it’s because she’s sitting all by herself. I can relate to being a loner.
I’m not sure if I would have been a loner had I actually gone to high school, but I am a loner now. Maybe I am a loner by force and not by choice, but it doesn’t change the fact that because of how I was raised, I prefer to be alone.
When I sit down, I don’t say anything to the pink haired girl. She looks at me, her jaw agape.
“You probably shouldn’t sit here.” The girl’s voice is low, but I can hear the warning in it.
“Why not?” I raise an eyebrow, curious as to why she would be warning me not to sit by her.
“Because I’m fat.” She taps her fingers against the table, and I can tell that she’s anxious.
I look at the girl, trying to figure out what she’s talking about. She’s not fat—at all. I mean, she’s curvy, but if anything, I am envious of her curves.
“You are not fat.” I shake my head at her. “Not at all.”
“Easy for a skinny girl to say.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “What are you? One hundred pounds?”
I roll my eyes. “Try adding forty pounds to that.”
Her mouth falls open again and she pushes her glasses up her face. “No way. That’s what I weigh.”
I smirk. “Told you you’re not fat.”
“Yeah, well, you’re tall. Five eight?” She asks.
I nod.
“I’m four eleven.”
Wow. She is short. Not that there is anything wrong with that, I just know a lot of girls at Spy School are tall.
“I like your hair,” I say, trying to put the whole awkward conversation we just had behind us.
“I like your face.”
I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes.
She likes my face?
She laughs. “Sorry. What I meant to say is you look like a freaking movie star, do you want to be friends?”
I have definitely never been told that I look like a movie star, and I will absolutely take that as a compliment. “Yes, I would love to be friends. I’m Brooklyn Taylor.”
“Hello, Brooklyn Taylor. I am Ellie Campbell.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I offer her a grin. “So... what generation are you?”
Spy School is ninety nine percent legacies. I am fourth generation Spy School, but for my cover, I am only second generation. It makes the lie easier that way, because then it makes sense for just a few people to know my family.
“I’m first generation.” Her eyes are full of pride, and she sits up straighter. I can tell she’s proud of her accomplishment, as she should be.
“Wow. You must be a genius.” I am very impressed.
She shrugs. “I’ve been told I am. Really, I’m just good with hacking, and languages, and math, and...”
I laugh. “At everything?”
“Everything except physical training.” She lowers her head, shaking it. “No matter how hard I try, I don’t seem to be getting any better. We’re seniors, now. Shouldn’t I be good at this by now?”
“I can’t hack,” I admit. “My parents got me lessons when I was a kid, and I somehow ended up crashing the internet for my entire town. I still have no clue how I did it, but it took them days to get the internet back up. After that, I was banned from the computer.”
True story about me, and not Brooklyn Taylor. Though, maybe I shouldn’t have told her that.
Ellie laughs so hard that she snorts, which makes me start laughing. I end up laughing so hard that my stomach hurts. I realize then that Ellie Campbell and I are going to be great friends. I like her.
Stronger than you look.
“Meet your mentor, Luke Scott.”
My physical education teacher, Jasmine French, introduces me to an athletic boy. He has blond hair, brown eyes, and pretty much looks like your average ‘boy next door.’ Well, if said boy next door was buff as hell. Seriously, this boy is hot. And I definitely don’t mind him training me.
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” Luke has a southern accent.
“Hi. I’m Brooklyn Taylor,” I tell him.
“Luke, I need you to help Brooklyn, at least for today. I want to see where she stands physically so we can find her an equal partner.” Jasmine offers me a warm smile. “Luke is an excellent helper. He will go easy on you.”
Do I look like I need somebody to go easy on me?
I’ve already passed all the physical requirements to graduate from Spy School. I train every single day. I even trained on Christmas day last year, though maybe it was mostly to get away from my mom and dad, but still. I work hard.
“You ready?” Luke asks.
I don’t bother responding. I just get into position.
He makes the move to attack me. I’m actually surprised that he knows exactly what I want him to do even though we haven’t had a conversation. We start to spar with one another, going back and forth with offense and defense. I can see the surprised look on Luke’s face when I am able to keep up with him. He probably thought I was some weak girl he was going to be stuck training, but now he looks as if he is actually working to keep up. I see a bead of sweat on his forehead.
Luke is a good gym buddy. I like him because he puts up a good fight. He makes me work to have a victory, and I don’t win every single time, which is bad for my ego, but good for training. Still, I hold my own against somebody who is a good sixty pounds heavier than me, maybe more.
It isn’t until I hear somebody cheer my name that I realize we’ve got a crowd around us. I don’t know why people are so interested in watching us train, but I do my best to ignore them and focus on Luke.
Luke, on the other hand, seems distracted by everybody around us, so I rush in to make my final move. I take him by surprise, knocking his feet right out from under him and I pin him to the ground. There is a gasp of surprise as I told him down.
“You win,” Luke whimpers.
I let go of him. I am completely out of breath, I am sweaty, but I feel good. I feel really good.
“Brooklyn, marry me. Seriously.” Killian comes in front of me, kneeling. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I roll my eyes. “We’re not getting married. And if you don’t get off the floor, I will maim you.”
He smirks. “It’s even hot when you turn me down. Please, baby, hurt me.”
Oh, dear goodness.
A f
ew of my class mates snicker.
I back away from him and hold out a hand to help Luke up. He is still lying on the floor, breathing heavily. He accepts my hand, and I pull him up.
“Damn, girl. You’re stronger than you look.” Luke shakes his head, like he’s still not able to believe that I just beat him.
Luke and I train together until school comes to an end. By the time I head to grab a shower, I am sweaty and worn out. My legs and arms feel a little bit like noodles, and I know I’m going to be feeling that tomorrow. But that was so worth it. It feels good to be challenged. I hope Luke can be my partner again tomorrow.
I get a quick shower, thinking about how nice it’s going to be to grab some food. That protein shake just isn’t cutting it anymore, and I could go for some carbs. But then I remember that I have detention and my entire mood sours.
Uh. Stupid Killian.
More like, stupid me. I know I shouldn’t have flirted with my history teacher, but he’s hot. I hope he doesn’t give me detention every single time I flirt with him or else I’ll be in there every day.
I grin. That does have possibilities. I imagine him telling me how I’ve been a bad girl and him spanking me, but all my fantasies do is prove I’ve been reading way too many dirty books.
I throw my wet hair into a bun on top of my head, get dressed, and head toward detention. I have a smile on my face as I think about my fantasy playing out, but then I hear footsteps run up behind me.
“Brook, let’s walk together.” Killian puts his arm around me, which reminds me that Killian asked for detention, too. Meaning Jaxon and I won’t be alone.
“It’s your fault I’m in detention,” I inform Killian.
He laughs. “Yeah, right. If you would’ve just agreed to hang out with me, we’d be in my dorm room right now, probably with you bent over my bed.”
I snort. “In your dreams, Killian.”
“Oh, trust me, you will be. I’ll think about you all night.”
I cringe, realizing exactly what he’s saying.
I stop walking and turn to him. “How old are you?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Eighteen, why? How old are you?”
At least he is eighteen. “I’m seventeen.” It’s amazing how easily the lie rolls off my tongue. I’ve been undercover my whole life, so lying is second nature to me, even though I hate doing it.
“I don’t mind that you’re younger. I usually prefer older girls though.”
His comment makes me laugh, and we start walking again. If only he knew that I was really nineteen.
Killian Young and I may end up being friends after all.
Boyfriend.
Since I arrived at Spy School, I’ve been on the lookout.
Michael Sinclair was vague on my assignment, but I think he was vague because he doesn’t know what’s going on. But the gist is, somebody has infiltrated Spy School—maybe a student or maybe a teacher. I have to figure out who it is. And despite the fact that I told Michael Sinclair that it’s not a lot to go on, he just said he ‘believes in me.’ When the director of Spy School asks you to do something, you just do it.
Killian opens the door for me when we arrive at Jaxon’s classroom for our afternoon detention. He’s standing at his desk when we walk in, and I grin.
We walk to the front of the classroom and sit down. When we do, Jaxon walks over toward us. He crosses his arms over his chest.
“You both know why you’re here, right?”
I nod.
“Because I really want to have sex with Brooklyn, but she keeps turning me down,” Killian says.
I snort out a laugh.
Jaxon rolls his eyes, but looks at me. “Brooklyn, you know why you’re here.”
I grin. “Because I’ve been a naughty girl. You should probably spank me.”
Killian laughs hard beside me.
Jaxon narrows his eyes. “Miss Taylor—”
“Brooklyn,” I correct him. If he starts calling me Miss Taylor, I will probably not notice when he calls on me during class.
“Brooklyn,” he says. “You are a beautiful girl, but you are too young for me. Perhaps it would be better if you focused your attention elsewhere.”
Killian raises his hand. “I like attention, especially when it's from a hot girl.”
Jaxon glares at Killian. “I was thinking more on school.” He turns back to me. “Don’t you want to become a good agent?”
Oh, the irony of his statement.
I lean forward on my desk. “Jaxon, have you seen my transcript? My grades are stellar. My extra circular activities really aren’t any of your business.” I raise an eyebrow. “Unless you want them to be your business.”
Jaxon steps back. I can see that he is trying to look stern, but he has a smirk on his face. “You and my younger brother would get along excellently.”
“Is he as hot as you?” I ask.
Jaxon shakes his head, ignoring my question. He walks to his desk and sits down, opening his computer.
I guess that’s the end of that conversation.
Detention is supposed to be a punishment. Kind of stupid if you ask me.
“Your family was undercover before you came here, right?” Killian asks.
I turn to him and nod. “In Italy.”
It makes sense that my cover story says I spent 3 years in Italy before coming here. I have a slight Italian accent, and I am fluent in the language. My family was undercover in Italy from the time I was about six until I was seventeen.
“Do you have an Italian boyfriend waiting for you?” He focuses his gaze on me while he waits for an answer.
“I don’t do relationships. Or boyfriends.” The thought of being in a relationship with somebody makes me physically sick.
He tilts his head to the side. “I thought all girls wanted a boyfriend.”
I shake my head.
“Wait, so you have never had a boyfriend?”
I lower my head, frowning.
I have had a boyfriend before. Once. But he wasn’t ‘really’ my boyfriend. It was for an assignment. Unless you count Jules, which I don’t. I told him going into our summer that it was just a fling, nothing more. He is the one who decided to propose.
“Why do you look sad all a sudden? Did you have a boyfriend die or something?” Killian furrows his brows.
When he says that, my chest hurts.
I clear my throat, looking away from Killian. “Uh, Jaxon. Can I go to the bathroom?”
Jaxon looks at me, as if he’s about to tell me no. But his face softens when he sees whatever expression is on my face. “Sure, go.”
I get up and basically run from the room. I don’t cry until I get to the bathroom.
I haven’t cried over this in so long, but the way Killian said that...
Did you have a boyfriend die?
The one and only time I’ve been in a relationship, it wasn’t because I wanted a boyfriend. I didn’t even like the guy at first. It was just an assignment. But over time, I did grow to care for him. I never loved him in the way a girl is supposed to love her boyfriend. But he was my friend.
I take deep breaths, trying to expel him from my thoughts. Now is not the time to take a trip down memory lane.
It takes a good five minutes to get my emotions under control, but even when I walk back to Jaxon’s classroom my eyes are still red and puffy. When I open the door, I’m surprised to see that Killian isn’t in the room anymore.
“Brooklyn, are you okay?” Jaxon asks, walking toward me.
I nod. “I’m fine.”
“If you ever need to talk, I am here.” He puts a hand on my shoulder.
I don’t need to talk. I need a distraction. “Can I go now?”
He takes a step back. “Okay. I’ll see you in class tomorrow. Have a good evening.”
I grab my stuff and leave the classroom.
Attending Spy School might be harder than I thought it was going to be.
Distraction.
I need a
distraction. But seeing as Jaxon doesn’t want to be my distraction...
There is always Killian. Something tells me that he could be a good distraction. And he’s not that much younger than me. He’s eighteen. And he is cute. Maybe he and I could be friends.
Sex is how I deal with things emotionally. I know that it’s not exactly healthy for my mental state, but I’m damaged in more ways than I care to admit. I just want to not feel anything emotionally for a little while.
I get up from my bed and walk out of my dorm room, heading straight to Killian’s room.
Earlier, he told me which room he was in, just in case I want to ‘stop by.’ I know he was just joking, but I’m about to take him up on his offer.
When I get to his dorm, I don’t bother knocking. I just walk inside. He is on his bed, doing his homework. He looks up and smiles when he sees me.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I need you to distract me.” I walk over to his bed, pushing his homework to the side.
His eyes widen as I press my lips against his. It takes him a few seconds to get over the shock of what is happening before he reacts. Killian kisses me back, but I’m the one in charge, which is the way I like it. I straddle his lap, grinding against him while our mouths move in sync against each other.
I pull back, just a little, so I can undo the button on his pants.
He smirks. “I knew you wanted me.”
“Shut up.” I pull his cock free. “Please tell me you have a condom.”
He reaches over, grabbing one from his nightstand. I should be concerned by the number of condoms he has in his drawer, but right now, I don’t care. I just need a release.
I open the condom, sliding it over the length of him. As soon as it’s on, I push my panties to the side and lower myself onto him. He moans as I ride against him.
This is what I needed.
I move against him so he hits just the right spot. I know that if we continue like this, it won’t take me long to come. But I can tell by the look on Killian’s face that he isn’t going to last long, so I move my finger over my clit and begin to play with myself while I ride him. I come seconds before he does. He cries out my name during his release.
The Undercover Life (Spy Academy Book 1) Page 2
