Amber light fell onto the treetops as the sun set over the Black Hills, the clouds ever so slightly stretching with the wind. From his place on the top of the hill, Desmond watched them float lazily into the distance.
He wished he could float away, too: wherever they were going, it had to be better than here. They had run on the track all morning, and his muscles still burned from exertion. The trail was about one third of a mile long, and Desmond had lost count after the fifth lap. To make it even worse, his dad had pulled him aside for more running while everyone else had been dismissed for the day.
"'No son of mine is gonna grow up soft'," Desmond growled, putting as much of a scowl into it as possible. "'You're an assassin, and that means you need to be the best.' Best, huh? HA."
Desmond settled himself deeper into the grass, lifting one knee and resting an arm over his eyes.
"Stupid training. Stupid Dad," he muttered.
"Do you always talk to yourself?" a light voice asked. Desmond shot up like a bullet. A girl in a white shirt and blue shorts stood on his left, arms crossed, blonde hair framing two very blue eyes.
"No," he denied.
"You're kinda weird," she said, with a smile on her face.
"You're weird!" Desmond's cheeks burned. "Who are you, anyways?"
"My name's Lucy." He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"I've never seen you around here before."
"I'm new," she said. "My dad's out doing stuff. I'm supposed to stay here for a while." A small "oh" popped out of Desmond's mouth. Lucy let her arms fall to her sides. "Your mom told me to come get you for dinner." Ever so slowly, he got up from his place on the ground, stretching his aching muscles on the way up. He noticed Lucy giving him a confused look.
"What?" he asked, a little defensively.
"That's it? You're just gonna follow me?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"My dad always told me to be careful of strangers," Lucy turned toward him as they made their way back to the Farm. "What if I'd been an enemy or something?"
Desmond snorted. "I doubt it. You're just a kid."
Lucy frowned. "So? My dad says that looks can be deceiving."
There was a long pause before Desmond said anything. They came up to the front door of his house. "I still think that you're just a kid." The door opened, Desmond's mother standing on the other side.
"Just in time – I was starting to think you'd gotten lost," she said, looking at Lucy. Ushering them in, Desmond saw Lucy stick her small, pink tongue out at him. He stuck out his tongue back at her.
"Desmond! Don't be rude to our new guest!" she said, lightly smacking him on the noggin. He grumbled. Lucy giggled to herself on the other side.
"I don't know where he got it into him to be so rude," his mother said. He followed the two of them to the kitchen area, rubbing the back of his head on the way.
He could already tell that Lucy would be trouble for him.