What’s the best thing to do to begin your Sunday morning? Most of you probably giving me this answer: Nothing than sleeping all day long or just lazying around.
But for me, a Sunday morning is the time I wake up very early, like 5 in the morning (No, it’s not true. I usually wake up at 7. But it’s still early in the morning right?), and I go straight to the gym in my house and practice my fighting skill. Boxing to be exact.
I slam the both of my fists to the punching bag relentlessly as beads of sweat rolling down the side of my face. Again and again my fists hit it hard. There's no mercy I give for the innocent punching bag hanging in front of me. In each punch, the strength and pace of my punch intensify.
Muscles inside my whole body, especially my arms muscles, burning, and both of my fists, my knuckles, aching. And I know for sure, after this I will find myself go back to sleep in attempt to get the sore away from my body.
“Sophie!” I whirl my body around, fists stop moving to hit the hard punching bag any further in mid-air. I search for the source of the voice as my eyes wander around the room the room, until my green eyes locked with his blue one.
Exhaustion and confusion mixed inside my body. The loud thumping of my heart and my fast breathing not even helping me to get myself calm down and try to think of the reason what makes him going down here. Because it's been a long time since the last time he saw me practicing. Probably for almost 5 months long ago. Because he knows I don't need him to keep an eye on me in case something bad would be happening. And it won't.
His body standing laid-back on the doorway with arms over his chest. But the look on his face telling me the other way around. His face is rigid as he holds his gaze to mine.
“Go get some shower. Mr. Warren will be coming soon.” The voice that was coming out from him making me think that this something about this coming of Mr. Warren would be one hell of a very serious thing. But, what's so important until he has to come here? And, what does it have to do with me anyway? I don't have anything to do about Mr. Warren and my father's job. So why did he told me to go to shower because Mr. Warren is going to come here?
For a moment, I lost in my own thoughts as I stare at the ground. Confusion made by his words make my eyebrows knit firmly in the middle of my forehead. I wake myself up from my little daze, just realizing it, and bring my face up to ask him questions. But unfortunately, he's already gone out of my sight.
Sighing, I grab my water bottle and sling my towel over my shoulder, still lost in thoughts. I begin to move my feet, only to feel the beginning of my body getting sore.
Damn, I've been doing this for three years yet the soreness after the practice still always coming for me after.
I step out of shower, feeling a bit refreshed from the exhausting practicing session I had earlier. I take my towel and rub my body dry from any excess water.
I step closer to the mirror, wrapping the almost-soaking-wet towel around my torso as I stare at the person on the other side of the mirror.
Is it really my reflection or is it someone else on the other side of the mirror? What if who the hell is it wanting to get out of the mirror and switch with me and I'll be stuck in the mirror until death? And no one would even realize if she's actually not me because we look alike?
I shake my head, trying to get the weird thoughts off of my mind, and switch the hairdryer on, and ruffle my hair. Minutes pass by, and my previously wet hair finally dries up. And, it turns out to be puffy. Like a lion hair!
With eyes wide open at my own ugly reflection, I cringe and grimace hard at myself. I gather my hair hurriedly and put it into a sloppy bun. And now, I look much better. Or you could say, adorable! (No judging please, because I AM adorable).
I walk to the closet, grab some undergarments, navy blue jumper, and a pair of black skinny jeans. I get into those right away and walk out of the closet. I take my phone with me and jog downstairs. I walk into the living room and take a seat on the couch, laying actually, and check my phone for any messages.
Woah, 38 messages and 4 missed calls from Claire. What happened to her?
I tap on her contact and dial her number, not even bother to look at all the messages she sent me before.
1st ring. 2nd ring. 3rd ring. 4th ring. 5th ri-
“Sophie!” I jerk on the sudden yell of hers and hold my phone away from my hurting ear, starting to hear ringing inside my ear. I wince a little and scowl. “What?! Can you please not yell?” I roll my eyes, feeling a little bit irritated by her yelling.
“I’m sorry. But Cody is in the ER!” She panics. By hearing her sounds, I can imagine her pacing back and forth in the hallway as she bites her lips or probably her nail. Now I feel bad for scolding her because of the yelling.
What happened to him for like the hundredth time? Why does he always have to make everyone worry about him?
“What happened?” I ask curiously.
“He was in the bathroom and got slipped. And his head slammed onto the sink.” Her voice sounds shaky as she explains me the incident.
“That’s what I know from his mother.” She sniffles, making a frown appears on my face. I wish I'm sitting by her side now and comfort her that he will be fine.
“I’m so sorry, Claire. I want to go there now, but I can’t. Dad’s chief is on his way to my house and also expecting me. I’ll come as soon as I can. Don’t worry about him, I’m sure he’ll be fine. You know how many times he had gone through this kind of shit, right?” I say reassuringly with a little smile on my face.
“Yeah, you're right." She laughs a little. She breathes in a deep breath and sigh."Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll see you soon.” Sighing, I end the call, with a frown coming back onto my face.
Well, let me tell you a bit about Cody.
Cody is my best friend and Claire’s boyfriend. That’s the explanation of the lot of worries she has toward him. And you could say, he’s the clumsiest of all my best friends and I.
Cody has been in so many accident in his life. From the mild ones to the severe ones. Too many to be counted. And the most unbelievable thing is, he's still alive until now. But I’m glad he's still alive and be my best friend.
My eyes getting heavier, my consciousness in the beginning of leaving my body. And I-
“Hey! Wake up! Mr. Warren is here.” He taps on my shoulder harshly for a few times, waking me up from my almost sleeping state.
Ah, such a bad timing, dad.
I almost fall asleep, and then get disturbed! What kind of person who could disturb a person’s sleep? A lot of people. For example: Teacher. They’re the worst for doing it. Not to mention the detention they always give after school, making things even worse than ever.
I pull myself to sit, stretching my arms as far as I can and a yawn comes through my wide open mouth. A so lady-like side of me.
I wait for them, dad and Mr. Warren, to come into the room, keeping my drowsy eyes gazing at the entrance of the living room. As they come walking into the living room, I get up from the couch and walk up to them, with a polite smile already planted on my face.
“Hello, Sophie.” Mr. Warren holds my hand and we shake our hands once in a firm grip. “Hello, Mr. Warren.”
Dad motions Mr. Warren to have a seat and he sits on the armchair, while dad sits next to me on the couch. I put both of my hands on my lap and look at him expectantly, still wondering on what do I have to do here?
“Okay.” He lets out a breath, his eyes on a stack of files on his lap. His hand flip over the files one by one, searching for the right file, maybe. He stops searching through the files and bring his face up to face the both of us with a severe seriousness, which also scares me shitless.
“I’m here because I want to tell you something very, very important.” His light blue eyes staring into my green ones intensely, but he also seems composed at the same time.
Going back to my own busy mind, I still can’t stop pondering about what he’s going to say to me about something that is so important. I mean, I’m no one important, so why say something important to no one important?
“Yes?” My head tilts to the side unconsciously, still staring back at him with curiosity. He breathes out through his nose and sit straighter in his seat. “I’ll tell you the point why am I here,” He pauses, still staring at my confused face with his rigid one.
Stop this and spill it out already!
“I want you to go undercover. Be a spy.” Perplexed, I stare at him wide-eyed as a grin replaces his previously serious look before. And keep stretching wide as seconds pass us by.
Wait, what?! Go undercover? Be a spy? But why me? Doesn’t I have to be in a secret agency first and pass a test or that kind of thing? And I’m nothing than just a high school girl who knows nothing about being a spy and shit. Honestly, I want to be one of the special agents, like dad, but it’s not like I have ay specialties in that department.
I turn my head and look at dad, searching for some answers from him. But, he just stares at me with the same confusion I'm having on my face. He shrugs, still look as bewildered as I am, and averted his gaze back to Mr. Warren, making me do the same thing.
“What? Me? Undercover?” I laugh awkwardly and shift a little in my seat. I avoid his gaze by looking down at my hand, fiddling with it, as an uncomfortable feeling nestle in the pit of my stomach.
“Mr. Warren, it’s an honor. But it’s impossible for me to do so. I don’t even know how to be one, or even to just act like one.” I state bluntly. The thought of this being a joke that Mr. Warren and dad make still running in my head.
“It’s okay, Sophie. I already have the right person to give you the training.” He says with the smile still glued onto his face, only fades a little as minutes pass by.
“And that is?” I raise my eyebrows questioningly.
“Your father, of course.” He gestures his hands toward my dad, grinning toward him. I turn to him and give him a look. He just shrugs once again and turn his attention back to Mr. Warren.
If Mr. Warren wants dad to be my trainer or that sort of thing, dad must already know at least one or two things about this, maybe all about this. But he’s definitely keep it as a secret to himself. Typical of him.
“Your dad is one of the first-class agent I have. Most of the cases, from the easiest ones to the rough ones, are solved by your father.” I nod. Not that I didn’t know about it.
“The reason why I want you to do this job is because our main target has a son. And their son is in the same age as you are.”
And well, Mr. Warren, that doesn’t explain the littlest thing of this huge thing, sir.
Sighing, I say, “Okay. So, what will I do?” though my mind is still confused as fuck it feels like something starting to go wrong like what happened in Spongebob's brain in one of its episode. So fucking messed up.
“You will be transferred to Harrington High School when the new school year start. There, you have to find important information as much as you can from this boy,” He slides a file smoothly across the table. I snatch the file and fold it open, looking at the picture fetched to the top left corner of the file.
I look at all the photos closely. He’s not bad, actually. He has a but perfectly built body, light brown hair, and a pair of blue eyes that I don’t know why I can’t stop staring at.
“His name is Matthew Williams.” He states. “We already have some evidence about his parents selling illegal drugs. But not enough convincing to arrest them yet. His parents has a medicine company and medical equipment company, so it’s going to be a bit of hard work.
“His parents have a lot of connection and spies near them, according to the agents I have sent before. So, you have to be very careful with Matthew.” I nod in understanding.
“Your father already taught you about some of his specialty, isn’t he?” He smiles. I nod my head once, smiling a little. “Yes.”
Because he is. He already taught me how to defense myself and hacking.
“Your father will teach you more of his ability. All of it. He will teach you how to use a gun, act naturally, use some of our equipment, sneak into places, and many other things.”
“And in this case, unfortunately, you should be a nerd, a girl with glasses and braces.”
What?! A nerdy girl?! Am I just got shitted by a bird on my freaking face because I’m feeling so unlucky right now. Because I’m not going to look like a real nerd. But who knows what agents can do, right? But still...
“What?!” I cringe and after a few seconds staring at my shocked expression, laughter comes out from him.
Why is he even laughing? This isn’t funny. At all.
“I’m joking. In this case, you will be wearing an eyeglasses. Dress like a nerd is unnecessary. You wear glasses because Matthew likes girls with glasses.”
And how the hell does he know that? Does he stalk on him or what because that is so fucking creepy.
And why does he, Matthew, attracted to girls that uses glasses? Doesn’t boy like him likes pretty girls at school. Like the popular one who looks like models straight out of the magazines or probably the slutty one who looks fake as fuck? Oh right. You can’t judge a book by its cover.
“I’m serious. All of his ex-girlfriends uses glasses.”
“How many exes he has?”
I’m asking because if he has a lot of exes, then it's going to be pretty hard for me. His exes would probably have a club called ‘Matthew’s Exes Club’ and their only mission is to terrorize any girl who get close to Matthew though she's going to join the club one day. And although they're probably just another school’s nerd.
But don’t underestimate nerds, because they has a freaking clever mind. Who knows, they could probably make a bomb out of anything in the kitchen.
“Oh.” I nod.
Then, Mr. Warren stands up from the armchair, with dad and I follow suit.
“Okay, Sophie. I’ll leave these files with you and good luck with the training.”