Annabelle POV
I look towards the black haired beauty who wears her trademarked smirk on her painted lips and I smirk back. I then look down towards our linked hands and my smirk grows, who would have thought that the new girl and the head girl would have ended up like this? That doesn't include Polly, Andrea, the Geeks or anyone who happens to smart in the human behaviour and/or human emotions department, to them it was obvious. But that doesn't make this thing we have between us, I say thing because it doesn't feel like your typical relationship. It feels like we have known each other for an eternity, soul mates perhaps.
Now the great thing about this relationship is that it never gets old, which is a good thing when you have a partner that gets bored too easily. You would probably think that dating an international MI7 agent was insane considering all the dangers you automatically get put in and the common stereotype that spies cheat. This one doesn't, I'm far too entertaining for that but let's not go into detail of entertainment because that is a private matter, we don't kiss and tell. Well, really it would we don't… Never mind. The spy, Agent 118, leans down and our lips automatically move closer and closer until mine almost touch those devilish, villainess, smooth lips. Then shouts of angry men start to draw close, breaking us apart. I pout, that always happens, while Agent 118 smirks and rolls those absorbing eyes. "You go one way, I'll go another."
There's a small detail that you may have over looked or not figured out if you happen to be a Totty but Agent 118 was a St Trinian. The best leader that had ever graced those graffiti filled halls. The mysterious vixen named Kelly Jones, my Kelly Jones. That was how I had ended up in this situation, running from bulky men who wanted the contents of Kelly's rucksack and me for hostage usages. Of course we had never been caught but that didn't stop Kelly from taking the daring risks like she does on her solo missions, those missions are rare. Fritton and Jones never ride solo. We are partners in both love and crime, the perfect combination.
I burst out onto the busy street, my brunette hair flying around behind me as I sprint. I push my way through the crowds of shoppers and businessmen munching on doughnuts, all those days I had spent training and playing hockey were paying off. I was fast, I'll admit that, but these men could keep up without breaking too much of a sweat which was odd when they looked that unhealthy. I don't look back, only once to see how far away these goons were looking back slows you down. My feet pound the paved ground and I debate whether I would be able to fight them if they caught me. It wouldn't end well if I ended up being the damsel in distress; the only time I play that role is when the world is hidden behind a curtain.
Time after time people, excluding St Trinians of course, have tried to prove me wrong about this relationship. They never succeed, the overused phrase 'I told you so' has never been uttered on the topic of Kelly Jones and Annabelle Fritton. We are St Trinians, nobody proves us wrong, and we prove them wrong. That's the Law of St Trinians, a bit like the Law of Gravity and so on except its simpler and you don't need Polly to explain it slowly. Just understand that St Trinians always come out on top and you'll be top of the class! Well, second to top if Polly happens to be in there. These men that are still chasing me should take that class, than they would understand exactly what they were up against and why they should avoid us at all costs. That's men for you, arrogant and big headed.
I glance back; they are gaining and closing the gap between a hunter and its prey. I push myself harder and harder; all those workout sessions with Kelly should pay off. After all, we work out together every day almost. A glossy, black bike pulls up on the side of the road in front of me, slowing me down. I could push the biker from his or her bike, take a helmet and rob off with it. I had done that many times before and even returned the bike in some cases. Before I could shove the biker off they lift up their visor, revealing my favourite pair of eyes. Kelly. She throws me a spare helmet, health and safety reasons. I hop on the bike, place the helmet over my head and wrap my arms around Kelly's waist just in time to wave goodbye to those foolish men.
Kelly races off into the traffic, weaving in and out of cursing taxi drivers as we make our quick getaway. It wouldn't be long until we received a speeding fine or those goons caught up with us, whichever comes first, but for now we had completed phrase one of Kelly's mission. Acquire the important information that was stored on a microchip and make a quick getaway, check. That's how we roll, effectively and efficiently. We only run through guns blazing, the only way you can deal with these types of people really. If you don't listen to my advice it would be wise to listen to this piece, trust me on that please. You don't want to start anything with me and Kelly.
You should have gathered by now that Kelly and I are a team, a successful one. It is rare that you'll see us separated from each other we'll always be back to back; fighting alongside each other until death do us part. We run together, play together, work together but more importantly, we love together. That is the recipe of a good team if you were interested in creating one, a Geek may disagree but they are more facts then feeling. All good scientists look at the facts, according to Kelly anyway. But the Geeks do understand the formula of love even if they do not wish to feel its power; they and I both know that love can be a deadly thing especially if you date an adrenaline junky spy. I knew that already yet people still attempt to scare me with that fact. Aunty thinks it's great though, ten per cent off fire arms? Bargain.
Kelly turns into a back alley, one we know well from our many stakeout missions which always ended the same. I playfully slap her arm as she turns and Kelly laughs, she always forgets to indicate and then gets annoyed when others don't. Hypocrite. She then slows to a stop outside a boarded up door, time for phrase two. Jones climbs off from the bike that she has probably stolen and hands me her helmet, she hugs me and whispers a quick warning before I rev the bike and speed off. Now Kelly may work for the government but that doesn't stop her from doing her hobbies like: stealing paintings, money laundering, bank robbery, just your typical normal hobbies. It's only natural that she wanted a slight bonus for her hard work. She does deserve it after all.
By now Kelly should be storming that grimy flat looking for the case that is filled to the brim with thousands of pounds and euros. A quarter of it goes to St Trinians, another two goes to our accomplices and the final quarter stays with us, funding our next holiday properly. Or that new games console that Kelly was eyeing up yesterday, knowing Kelly she's probably already bought it. She wouldn't have time to use it but what Kelly wants Kelly gets no matter what obstacles block her, I'm evidence of that. I speed around the back, looking for the entrance to the yard where I'm supposed to be meeting Kelly. This is my favourite part of the plan.
I look up and my eyes linger on the body dropping casually from the window, jumping onto a lower roof and then onto the floor. I watch as she strolls towards me, I can't help but let my eyes wander to her curves; it's just a bad habit of mine. Kelly raises her left eyebrow and comments, "Enjoying the view Fritton?" Then she begins to smirk and climbs back onto the bike, for once she's letting me drive instead of being the passenger. I'm not complaining though, there's nothing I enjoy more than a nice relaxing high speed chase through a busy city with Kelly clinging onto me for dear life. She just doesn't like my driving that much for some reason, especially when it's on a bike at rush hour. Bless her; I think she gets too worried sometimes. All a part of the plan though, if they catch up to us too soon and start to shoot then Kelly can take care of that.
Like Kelly did earlier, I weave in and out of traffic to put some more distance between us and the goons. For the final phrase of the plan to work we need to move swiftly and carefully, if we get spotted doing this then we'll be on the run for a year. Again. In all fairness, that was Auntie's fault for calling me and then refusing to hang up until I had answer her questions about how life after St Trinians was going and how we never visited often enough. Kelly found that amusing until Miss Fritton gave her a verbal thrashing down the phone about hogging her 'lolly-lolly niece'; I had never known Kelly Jones to go that pale.
I turned off of the main road and into a dead end. Kelly and I quickly scrambled about; the men weren't far away from us. The tracking device that was placed on their car and linked to Kelly's watch was telling us that they were forty-five seconds away from us. That was just long enough for us. I turn and look into Kelly's eyes and she grins, we don't have time for words but everything we want to say to each other is said in our eye contact. She knows what I'm thinking and I know what she's thinking about, she never stops thinking about that. Kelly's watch bleeps, signalling that the goons have arrived. Time for our fun to begin.
They step out of their car and make their way towards the bike with a gleam in their eyes; they think they have trapped us. Honestly, do men have no idea that St Trinians always have backup options? Even Sir Piers Pomfrey has learnt that piece of information even if it was the hardest way possible, public humiliation never fails to teach someone a lesson. The men smile, the sunlight hits their white teeth, who would have thought these gangsters had good dental health with all the crap they smoke? They stand by the bike, thinking that they have won. Then the helmets come off and their faces fall to the ground. "How can we help you?" Andrea asks from the back of the bike,
"Sod politeness," Taylor grumbles, "Who the fuck are yas?" The Chav demands.
Kelly stands beside me, trying to not laugh at the goons faces. It was all a part of the plan and they had yet to realise that. Now maybe I should explain what just happened, it might make more sense if I do. You see our accomplices were waiting down this dead end, with matching helmets and gear, and they were ready to take our places on the bike while we hide in the narrow and almost invisible alley. As soon as we pulled into this dead end we jumped off of the bike and Taylor and Andrea got on and pretended to be us. It works because they are both roughly the same height of me and my own partner in crime.
Taylor continues to argue with the confused goons as we walk away down the alley, arms around each other, with the stolen money and quietly laughing to ourselves. That's just how we roll.
If you haven't already guess it this kinda sorta based around 'How We Roll' by Loick Essien, google it
Review because I've been on a serious reading hype, who knew Percy Jackson was that good?