Princess

“What do you mean?” Her eyebrows drew together in apparent confusion as Calloway struggled to follow my babble of incoherent, panicked words.

“There’s this idiotic guy, Dylan Fuller, he’s here, at SITT and everything, a year older than me. I just overheard him telling Principal Lee about something, um, insignificant.” I coughed, remembering the reason that he’d even mentioned his father, about our date, before recovering and saying, “It turns at that Fuller is the son of the- well, you know who and Lee is in cahoots with them. Lee listens to them and fears them enough to do as Fuller said.”

“Therefore...?”

I stared incredulously at her calm exterior, her lack of emotions and impatience that had crept in her tone without me noticing and collapsed onto my bed, throat swelled up with accusations and hurt that I couldn’t form into words. Staring at her for a few moments, I swallowed and finally croaked, “You already knew, didn’t you?”

She pursed her lips. “There is no need to adopt that tone of distaste with me, Kristen.”

“Oh shut the bloody hell up.” My hands covered my face while I mumbled, “How long for you guys known? Was this so-called safe house meant to be a suicide mission for me?”

“We knew the moment we sent you here. It was not meant to be a suicide mission.” Her tone softened as she continued, “Despite your worst assumptions, I don’t hold this against you. This is the continuation of your mission, a test if you may. We needed to know if you would be able to discover that your school had Mafia conenctions... You passed it with flying colours.”

All along, they knew.

…a test…flying colours. I laughed bitterly, choked up with anger and still the hurt, unable to fade away despite how I willed myself to. My life in danger because of a freaking test, due to a stupid mission that I had messed up…the irony didn’t escape me. Instead, it wound its icy claws around me choking me, smothering me until I could barely breathe.

“How in the world did you figure it out, anyway? You’re an outstanding agent but even our best with multitudes of experience would never have figured it out so efficiently. Unless you’ve had contact with Dylan Fuller…?” Her eyes bore into mine, collected and detached as always.

Bound by contract as well as duty, I spat, answering her question although every fibre in my being urged me to do the opposite to dare to defy her and even, horror of horrors, leave right now, “He’s the one that claims he’s my boyfriend. The’ innocent’ civilian you said you’d harm.”

I ignored whatever kind of measured reaction Calloway would doubtlessly show and concentrated on my anger, allowing it to bubble within me until it boiled over and turned into resentment. I had to stay with Calloway and the screwed up system of bull until I was legally adult and there was no guarantee that I would still be alive to enjoy the freedom that I had yet to taste all my life.

I resented that and hated them for it.

“How interesting…to think that he was drawn to you without you doing anything special, how on earth did he…” She paused, considering before adding, “How exactly did you discover his identity?”

“I already told you, I overheard him speaking to Lee.”

“What was the conversation about?”

I felt colour rushing to my cheeks; anger drained and resent had already made its presence felt; now it was embarrassment’s turn. “He asked Lee for days off. I think it’s cause he wants us to we go on a date.”

A raised eyebrow and a quick intake of breath was all the emotion that Calloway betrayed before her professional skills came into play and whatever feelings she had felt and shown became muted and cool as always. I suppose you could say that hiding your emotions well enough made you into a monster of apathy, or at least that’s the way it appeared.

Perhaps it was because of this, Calloway never felt like a mother figure to me although officially at least, I was her child. I flinched at the word and amended- no, not child, which was too affectionate a word. The cold, unfeeling idea of ‘ward’ probably functioned as the best word for the barely existent relationship between Calloway and me.

She sent me here, to a death trap and waited for me to find my own way out. What kind of mother would do something like that to her child?

“I have a piece of advice for you, Kristen.”

Kristen. Why wouldn’t she stop using my name? I’d grown numb enough to Christina to ignore whatever insults that were barked at me under that false name but using the name that my real parents had given me struck me as a low blow.

Simply because I knew that if they were alive, they wouldn’t approved of what I was doing now.

Shrugging off the feelings, I raised my eyebrows at her waiting for her to enlighten me.
“Since the Fuller son-”

“Dylan.” I blinked, surprised that I had interrupted her tirade for something as insignificant as a name.

Calloway gazed imperiously at me and continued as though she hadn’t been interrupted. “Since the Fuller son is so infatuated with you, you might as well use it to your full advantage.”

Was she actually suggesting… The shock rendered me wordless. I’d knew all along that we could use and should use whatever we possessed to enable us to carry out our missions but abilities didn’t include… “I don’t understand.”

“You’re a smart girl, who do you think you are trying to fool?”

Myself, I wanted to reply but I didn’t, gazing at her emotionless face while she suggested that I do something so cruel to someone who was doubtless a moron but didn’t actually do anything to harm me (though he freaked me out and did annoy me) aside from the son of Fuller.

“Stop taking the moral high ground, Kristen, consider it.”

I flinched again, the mere mention of my name felt like ripping off a fresh wound and apply salt liberally on it. My parents would have been ashamed hearing this.

But I was going to do it anyway, wasn’t I? There was no other option.

I nodded once while a rare smile appeared on Calloway’s face, pleased with my agreement. It was the first time I’d ever made her proud enough to smile at me but it felt empty, hollow like a Coke bottle emptied. All that was left was the residue of bubbles.
***
I grabbed a plate off the table and filled it with disgusting school muck while lunch (was Lee too busy attending to Dylan’s other request that he neglected the one about food), no, dinner ladies glared menacingly at us.

“Christina!”

Although I’ve only known that voice for a few days, I could already recognize it and fear it because it belonged to the Moron. (And of course my streak of good luck of avoiding him would end on the day I didn’t want it to.)Hoping that the evil dinner ladies’ presence could turn him away, I inched closer to one of them.

Nonetheless the power of Oblivion enabled him to ignore the sudden silence that had engulfed the cafeteria as he sauntered towards me. I’d already lost count of how many times he’d managed to silence an entire roomful of teens and I was not appreciating that.

The dinner ladies glanced at each other, surprise flitting through their faces (since they had never before seen such quiet) before shrugging as though it didn’t matter anyway and ambling off, since their purpose-keeping the cafeteria quiet-had already been fulfilled.
I whimpered internally, there was more at stake than embarrassment here, glancing at the retreating backs of the dinner ladies.

By the time I was starting to muse over other choices (such as running away…), it was too late. The Moron had already reached me and was picking up a plate as well.

“Don’t tell anyone yet but I’ve heard rumors that we’re having a rare day off this Saturday. Principal must be in quite a good mood…” He smiled before bafflement over unrecognizable vegetables and various meats appeared on his face. If I had not been mistaken, a flash of annoyance had flitted through his features as well.

I stared at him, a few moments too long for it to be natural before catching myself and forcing a grin on my face while pretending to be studying the dishes. He’d lied so naturally. I would have never guessed it but he was a born actor, able to hide his thoughts through his veil of Moronic Goodness.

Dylan Fuller was no idiot. He had just been pretending to be one.

“C’mon, don’t tell me that you don’t know what that means.” He nudged me and I nearly dropped the plate, not from embarrassment but from shock. He was going to tell me about it now? But I hadn’t even prepared myself…Calloway’s instructions resounded in my mind and I quickly recovered, trying to look blank. “You really don’t know? You promised me a date and since we have Saturday free…”

Suddenly the cafeteria erupted into chatter but it seemed less important, the mortification I had gone through thanks to rumours seemed childish.

Instead, my mission came to mind and I concentrated on what I had learnt from training as well as prior experience. “Fine, fine, but honestly there’re other ways to get a girl to go on date aside from embarrassing her, you know.”

“You mean that was embarrassing? That was a shame. I thought you’ll enjoy it.” There was a twinkle in his eye which I wouldn’t have seen before, because I would’ve written his comment off as a Moronic one. But I could observe clearly now.

“You think it was funny, don’t you?” I gathered my plate and walked off, knowing that he would follow me and searched the room for a relatively quiet spot.

Finding one, I sat down and just like I thought he would, he did the same. “You can’t blame me.”

“Blame you? For what?”

“For thinking that it was funny, it’s something that I thought would work and it worked.” He shrugged.

A chill ran down my spine, how his words were reminiscent of his father’s only that his had managed to scare me while Dylan’s had the opposite effect, and I shoved a spoonful of mystery stew into my mouth so that I could have something else to think about.

“You’re acting weird.”

I swallowed, eyes darting about the cafeteria. Knowing that I was acting suspicious and definitely strange but having no other option, I smiled as though I had no idea what he was talking about and asked, “What do you mean?”

“You’re…jumpy and kind of…nicer to me than normal.” He scooped up a piece of meat and grimaced at it, before allowing his attention wander around the cafeteria. I noticed that he didn’t eat it.

Both of us having a conversation while not looking at each other suggested that something off was happening and I couldn’t allow that so I forced out a laugh and said, finally gazing at him, “What? You’d rather prefer that I act mean towards you?”

Dylan’s smile widened and he gestured towards someone. Following his line of vision, I saw Luke and Tia together. Remembering the question that she had asked me earlier, if I was Luke’s girlfriend or not, I flushed slightly, embarrassed at the memory… Why did I try to be Oprah, acting as though I was an expert on relationships?

Even while trailing behind Luke as they entered, it was plain (at least plain to me) that Tia liked Luke a lot more than she would’ve preferred to. From her body, it seemed that she was trying to refrain but it didn’t appear like it was working. In fact, it looked awkward.
I pursed my lips at this thought. Who was I to judge someone else for their feelings when I couldn’t even control mine?

Thinking this, I turned back towards Dylan, only to find him studying me with what looked suspiciously like a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What? Stop looking at me like that.” Colour rushed towards my cheeks. What if I had revealed something while he was staring at me? Something about how I really didn’t want to pretend that I liked him just to gather information?

“I wouldn’t mind if you acted ‘mean’ to me, as long as it means something,” he said, his attention returning to Luke and Tia.

Chagrin coursed through my entire being and I winced internally, understanding the meaning that he had left unsaid. Perhaps it had been to spare my feelings (that I sucked at hiding them, that is), but it only served to humiliate and destroy whatever semblance I had been tried so hard to pull.

With Dylan’s face turned towards Luke and Tia, watching their progress, he causally added in such a way that I couldn’t have told that he was continuing the conversation until he spoke. “You’re pretending to do something you don’t feel and it’s so easy to tell.”

I gulped down the glass of water, clutching the glass so hard that it cracked slightly but ignored Dylan’s startled glance when he heard.

This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. I hadn’t felt so many conflicting emotions, not since Dad’s…

No. It was better to leave certain things unmentioned sometimes.

“I don’t feel so good.” I stood up, deposited the leftovers and rushed out of the cafeteria before Dylan could take another look at me and tell me exactly what I felt.
***
I really didn’t know how this was going to work.

I knew that I was supposed to like Dylan but it clearly didn’t work, not when my sudden turnabout was so obvious to Dylan. I just had to find my own way to do things while avoiding Dylan as much as possible after our date…which I needed to ensure became a disaster.

I just had to find the information I needed to complete my mission without alerting Dylan.

This was just going to be crap.
****
I smiled brightly at Luke while he thought over the question I had just asked. It had been nothing difficult, simply some background information about Dylan Fuller which Luke was now mulling over as though it was an arithmetic question.

When he finally said something, it wasn’t the information that I wanted, “I’ve known him for quite a while and I don’t think I’ve seen him lose his cool around someone as many times as he has around you.”

Sputtering, I said, “I-I really don’t need to know that, Luke. That wasn’t even what I asked for!”

Perplexed, Luke simply stared at me. “You asked for stuff about him, so I told you.”
“But I don’t want to know his dating info!” I sat down roughly next to Luke. “I want to know about his family.”

“His family…?” Luke repeated, cocking an eyebrow.

Turning scarlet, I realized how I must’ve have sounded. “No! Not like that either. God, what is wrong with you today?”

“You’re not making any sense, that’s all.” Luke paused. “And although you say you don’t want to know, I still have emphasis this, it’s not just because I’ve known Dylan for many years, trust me. When a guy loses his cool around a girl so much, resulting in some pretty terrible singing of a David Archuleta song, it usually means he thinks she’s worth something to him.”

Baring my teeth at him for telling me something so obvious, I sighed. “Look, if you don’t want to tell me about his family, you can just say so. You don’t need to add extra mortification into the daily dosage.” I sighed, glancing at Luke. “It’s just…he doesn’t ever tell me stuff about his family…and you know…family is kind of a big deal for me…”

Luke didn’t even look as though he was considering it… Why on earth did he have to so loyal to the Fullers?

“Look, my parents are really very strict, okay? How did you think I ended up here?” I paused and sighed. “It’s not that I mind Dylan’s family being hidden from me, it’s… my parents…they…”

“Ah. That could be a problem.” His eyebrows drew together in deep concentration and my hopes soared before they came crashing down on earth when the creases on Luke’s face smoothened out as he found a solution. “You could just not tell them, you know.”

I gave up and changed the subject. If Luke was so keen on making things awkward for me (and I could tell that he was having fun too), I could do the same. “How’s Tia?”

He blinked at the sudden change. “She’s okay. I don’t know.”

“How can you not know? She’s your fiancé.”

Luke turned scarlet at the word. Finally, I found something bemusing to tease him with.
“I know that things are hard for you guys but you need to work them out.”

He stared at me as though I’d suddenly grown two heads. Then, I realized what I said (and how I really shouldn’t keep saying these kinds of things if I wanted to keep up my image) and how ironic it was that I was spouting things as such when I clearly didn’t use my own advice.

“I don’t know what you think you know about Tia and me but you’re clearly deluded.” His expression didn’t turn as dark as that day but his eyes were stormier than usual.

“Am I? I’ve heard from Tia some stuff. I know quite a bit about your relationship.”

And the fact that Dylan’s father was the head of the Mafia put a whole new perspective on why they needed to obey him. It would not do to piss of a guy with powers and connections such as him. It was true that I’d heard that he was a man who valued family values (yet, his son was in SITT, so maybe it wasn’t true) but I doubted that Luke would be considered part of the family, not without Fuller blood coursing through his veins.

So what better way to tie Luke to the family than to marry his goddaughter, Tia, off to him in order to tie Luke to the family and instill loyalty?

It was devious and very intelligent. I would’ve admired him for the plan if it wasn’t for the fact that Tia was miserable and Luke sucked when he was around her or when he had to talk about her.

“You guys can’t avoid each other forever, especially not with the ‘till death do us part’ thing coming up sooner than you would’ve thought.”

Luke glared at me. “Stay out of my business.”

“I can’t. I’m already involved in it.” In more ways than one.

Luke’s expression softened. “I get that you guys probably have that girly sympathy shit working but you should really stay out of it. My problem is with Tia, not with you.”

I shook my head at him. “Your problem isn’t with Tia, it’s with Dylan’s father.”

“Stop being obstinate! I don’t need you to analyze me.”
“I’m not trying to-”
“Of course you are. You don’t see it yourself, Christina? The way you go around and analyze people…of course, you’re usually right about people but it’s like a defense mechanism for you. You hide behind a shell, comforted in the fact that you know everything about everyone without actually having to have a conversation with them, like a normal human.”
“Don’t make this about me.”
“It already is.”
“No, it’s about you and Tia. How you’re scared shitless of her because you do like her, probably more than you want to.”

Luke didn’t have a smartass reply to this. I’d really thought that I managed to shut him down this time and triumphant in the fact that I’d won and he had not, I turned around, all prepared to make my dramatic exit.

But he said something else entirely from ‘You’re right’. Instead, he said, quite loudly, “So are you. You’re scared shitless of Dylan because you-”

I didn’t bother listening to him because I knew that he was just going to throw back my words…and worst of all?

I was starting to be afraid that he was right.