Hello, all! This is my first ever story on fanfic. It's probably not going to be all that good so I'd love it if you give me constructive criticism. CONSTRUCTIVE! No flames please.

Alex's thoughts: 'Word'

Speech: "Word"

Alex had been absent from school for the last couple of weeks, and it was his first day back after his latest mission from Bangkok. He had been absent several times before that, but it wasn't because he randomly decided to play truant, no, it was because he was a teenage spy for MI6, as much as he loathe to admit it, as they had time after time manipulated and blackmailed him into going on dangerous missions which nearly got him killed.

"Shit!"

Alex Rider raced towards his classroom just as he heard the bell ring. First day back in ages and he was late!

The door swung open and he skidded in, panting. The whole class looked up at him in interest, and began murmuring amongst themselves. He could hear several snippets of their conversations:

"…heard he was in juvie for knifing some poor bloke on the streets…"

"…nah, he definitely got caught doing crystal meth…"

"…I don't know, but there's definitely something wrong with him…"

"QUIET! We'll let the man speak for himself. Where were you Rider?"

That was Professor Hughes: fair but strict.

"Bad case of the flu"

Hughes sighed, "Very well Rider, sit down."

Alex sat down at the back of the classroom, next to Tom, his best friend and the only one in the school who actually knew about his spying. As Hughes turned towards the smartboard and began drawing diagrams of atoms, Tom chucked a scrunched up piece of paper at him. Alex unfolded it and saw a picture of a magnifying glass followed by a rather obstinate question mark.

Alex glanced at Tom, rolled his eyes, and nodded.

40 agonizingly boring minutes went by and the bell finally rang. Time for gym.

He walked over to where the other male students (PE was split between the boys and girls) were gathered around a very muscular (and scary) Mr. Tate.

"Alright people, today we are going to play a bit of basketball, and since we don't have any bibs, we're going to play skins versus shirts. Alright, on the left: we'll have the skins, and on the right: shirts. And no swapping sides! I'll be watching you..."

Since he was on the left, Alex realised that he didn't want to take off his shirt, as that would reveal his bullet wound, so he decided to say something.

"Can I swap sides?"

"No!"

"Can I swap sides... please?"

"No!"

"But I'd really like to-"

"For the last time Rider, NO!"

"Fine..."

Everyone was staring at Alex, as he dared to speak up to the "scary" Mr. Tate.

Alex mentally rolled his eyes. 'Please, I've faced far worse than Mr. Tate. I mean, it's not like he wants to kill me, right?'

He took off his shirt and the whole class stared open-mouthed at his chest, as a bulled wound was inches off his heart.

He mentally sighed. 'looks like I've just given the rumour mill a bit of a push.'

The whistle blew, and everyone got into position. As much as they'd like to continuously ogle his chest, they didn't have a death wish, and weren't as "brave" as Alex in that respect.

Reluctantly the class started running.

-----------------------------------------

Later on that day, Alex returned home from school.

"Hey Alex, how was school?"

Jack's voice was heard through the silence of an otherwise empty house.

Alex replied, "It was all right, but everyone kept talking about me, and then they saw my bullet wound. I honestly shudder to think what they're saying about me now."

"It'll be alright Alex! Soon you'll just be yesterday's news"

"I hope so…"

------------------------------

The phone rang, interrupting his rather interesting dream about ponies and apple cider, and waking him up… at six 'o' clock in the morning.

"Yes?" Alex answered rather rudely: he liked his sleep damnit!

"Is this Alex Rider?" He heard a voice come in from the receive. 'That sounds slightly familiar...'

"Yes it is. Now can you please state what you want, and leave me alone so I can SLEEP?"

"We want you to come in this afternoon."

"What?"

"At Royal And General Bank"

"You mean-" //1//

"Yes. That."

"No! You screwed up my life, even nearly causing me to end it several times and you still have the nerve to ask me to go on another mission?!"

"Alex-"

Alex sensed that the other person (Blunt, as he now realised) was about to say something else, and frankly, he didn't want to hear it, so he hung up and collapsed on the bed, drifting back to sleep, knowing that he'd have to go in later anyway: they'd find a way to make him; they always did, but that previous sense of satisfaction was good and in his drowsy he didn't really care about what the day would bring.

//1// It's six 'o' clock in the morning. No one can function properly at that hour.