Just Undercover

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Extreme Hoe Make Over

Ok, I’ve gone through interrogations, lying detectors, met criminals, unarmed bombs, mastered multiple languages and much more but I can tell you right now that nothing is as stressful and painful as getting your eyebrows and upper lips waxed at the same time.

Carol plucked, waxed, exfoliated, and moisturized to the high heavens until she felt satisfied with the condition of my skin. And that was just the beginning. My split ends were stressing her out, so my hair was promptly cut and dyed from dark brown to a dirty blonde.

While Carol worked on my hair, she had two assistants, looking at my clothes with equal disdain. They measured me and wrote notes furiously in their little notepads.

“You know I don’t have to look like Malibu Barbie, right?” I asked her, my stomach grumbling. We had landed very early in the morning, and I didn’t get the chance to eat any breakfast.

“Only because I’m out of time,” she muttered, hairpins in her mouth as she curled my hair. I honestly didn’t mind the scalp massage I received before dyeing my hair. But now, four hours into the hair treatment, I was pretty much over the whole situation.

Malibu was a definite upgrade from the middle of nowhere Idaho, but this is not what I had in mind when I thought of an agent going undercover. Was my aunt testing me because this was starting to border on torture?

Finally, Carol deemed my hair acceptable and relinquished me from her manicured grip. She ushered me back into my room, where the two assistants were waiting. My, previously empty and pristine room, was now littered with bags from designer boutiques.

“We ran her measurements and got enough clothes to last her through the semester along with some bags and accessories that should help,” assistant one with the septum nose piercing announced upon our entrance.

“The school uniforms have also been altered to her measurements and are hung in the closet,” assistant two with the pink pixie cut informed opening the spacious closet by the balcony.

“Can we please take a moment of silence to appreciate what an amazing job I did. I think I can feel my eyes water,” Carol fanned herself as she presented me. I honestly can’t tell you whether she was sarcastic or not.

The assistants began putting away the clothes from the shopping bags, so I started slowly backing out of the room, trying my best to make as little noise as possible, but Carol stopped me in my tracks.

“Put this on first, and then you can scurry away,” she said shoving clothes into my arms. As quickly as possible, I put on the ripped mom jeans, crop top, and weird Jesus looking sandals she had handed me.

“Charlee!” my brother called me from downstairs, and I could not escape the room faster. I wasn't used to hearing that name though.

“I’m coming!” I glanced at the mirror one last time before heading down to meet my brother, who was finishing up his breakfast.

“Hey, how come you got to eat pancakes?” I complained.

“Because I didn’t take two hours to get my hair done,”

“It took four hours to complete this extreme hoe makeover. I deserve pancakes after all that!” I remarked, glancing down at my clothes.

“You look quite nice,” George shrugged his shoulders, causing me to roll my eyes.

“Of course you think that. You’re a guy. A guy who does not begin to understand the pain behind mascara wands poking dangerously close to your eyeballs,” I retorted heading towards the fridge in search of food.

However, before I could begin scavenging for anything, George pulled me away, muttering something about how the smell of hairspray was making him dizzy.

“You’ll eat when we get to the drop-in location,” cutting me off before I could complain. I stayed quiet at both the promise of food and the beginning of something important finally happening.

I followed George out to his polished convertible and hastily strapped on the seatbelt. Just because he was undercover, didn’t change George’s crappy driving skills. I kept myself busy on the highway looking at the gleaming blue ocean waves lapping against the shore to my right and the prominent mountains that loomed on the other side.

It wasn’t long before George pulled out of the picturesque highway and onto the streets of Malibu. I watched as people in fashionable clothing walking their equally stylish dogs along the road holding cups of coffee or colorful shakes. They held reusable bags full of organic groceries and got into their polished convertibles and smart cars.

“Starbucks is the drop-in location,” I questioned, slightly disappointed as my brother parked in front of the coffee house. The Jeep parked next to us made it difficult for me to get out of the car since it parked over the line and encroaching into my brother’s parking space.

George didn’t answer me and instead walked into Starbucks, locking the car behind him. The shop seemed busy, and there weren’t any empty tables around. But George didn’t seem to be looking for an empty table. Instead headed for a table in the far right corner of the shop where a group of people sipping their coffee congregated.

“You’re late,” a tall Asian girl in a white dress commented upon seeing my brother.

“Yeah, well someone took longer than expected to get ready,” he retorted, looking over at me and everyone at the table turned to look at me too.

There were more girls than guys in the group. Only two, not including brother, in comparison to the five other girls I counted. A slim, tan girl with inky black her scooted over and made room for my brother and me to sit along the bench in front of the table.

“Mina and Colton aren’t here, but since there are at least two team leaders now we can get started,” the tall girl who had berated my brother spoke up.

“My name is Amber and from now on this Starbucks will be the drop-in location; meaning that if we have any information to give you it will be here. Even if we aren’t present rest assured you would find the information here,” she explained.

“You’ll get a tour of headquarters later and the safe house, in the event of an emergency, is George’s house,” she nodded her head in my brother’s direction. A girl whose pale purple hair was in a top knot raised her hand promptly.

“Yes, Lavender?” Amber asked, and I couldn’t help but smile at the appropriate name matching the owner’s hair color.

“Is it wise to disclose this information here, in the middle of an open place?” she asked, looking around at the busy coffee shop.

“Always the hackers worried about being bugged,” Amber smiled in an amused but kind way.

“The coffee shop is too loud, even if someone planted a microphone or bug, they would be hard-pressed to hear anything over the noises of the store,” Amber explained and indeed it was hard enough to hear her over the noise of other customers chattering, baristas shouting out names, coffee machines whirring, and the continuous traffic outside.

“Plus remember, this is only the drop-in spot. The purpose is to quickly and efficiently share information as discreetly as possible. That being said, you have fifteen minutes left to eat before we assign you to your partners,” my brother interjected, eyeing me cautiously. I could tell whatever was coming, he was nervous about it.

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