The Fugitive
Chapter 1
Natasha
It was a cool spring afternoon, when all of a sudden a lacrosse ball was flying at my face. I stood in shock, as the ball came flying into the middle of my face. The last thing I saw was a guy running towards me… then the world went black.
When I finally woke up I was surrounded by the whole lacrosse team. I was on the ground with my head on my backpack and a bulging headache. I grabbed my head. It hurt like I had just been hit in the head with a meteor. Trying to get up on my feet, but fell down once, one foot stabilized. Collapsing to the ground, I felt muscular arms surround my torso. Looking up to see the mysterious man's face, I recognized him as the one who was running towards me when I got hit. He had sparkling blue eyes, a 5 o'clock shadow and blonde shaved hair.
He offered to take me to the nurse's office. As he carried me to the nurse's office, we conversated.
"My name's Clint, Clint Barton, by the way."
I nodded trying not to move my head to much, feeling as if it might explode. As he carried me to the nurse's office; he started to ramble on about how sorry he was about hitting me. While we walked, Clint rambled on, he got to telling me that he was new to the school. He had just moved here a month ago from Waverly, Iowa, and had started school two weeks ago.
As he rambled on he realized, "Hey I've been rambling on and on about my life story, and I don't even know your name."
"Oh." I said in a shy squeaky voice.
"My name is Natasha, Natasha Romanoff. I've just moved here from Volgograd,Russia, a month ago as well, but just started school two days ago."
Clint looked at me with an amazed facial expression.
"Well, that's a long drive from here" Clint said jokingly
But I was not impressed. We chattered on, almost passing the nurse's office.
As we entered the nurse's office, Clint put me down on one of the beds, to free his hands to sign me in. Clint told the nurse that he had accidentally hit me in the face with a lacrosse ball and may have given me a minor concussion. As, Clint was finishing explaining the nurse was running over to check on me. While the nurse was checking me. I looked over and saw Clint run his hand through his blonde shaved head, with a worried look on his face.
"Okay, so you do have a minor concussion, you'll have to leave school early today. When you get home sit in a dark room, no technology at all. Meaning no phone, no music, no television and no reading. Do you have anyone that can pick you up?" the nurse explained in a serious tone.
"No I don't, both my parents are at work for the rest of the day." I lied
"I'll take you home. If that's okay?", Clint offered.
I looked at Clint with a weak smile as a thank you. Since, I didn't know very many people at New York City's best high school for gifted children, The Academy.
On the way to my house I asked Clint, "So, how did you get into The Academy?"
Clint smiled replying, "I'm a Master Archer, Expert Marksman, Export Acrobat, Export Fighter, and an Expert Strategist, but I'm also trying other stuff out as well, so that's why I'm on the lacrosse team. What about you? How did you get in to The Academy?"
I hesitated for a moment, "I am a Master Martial Artist, Expert Acrobat, Expert Marksman, Expert Tactician, Master Interrogator, Talented Hacker, and an Expert Assassin. I am also multilingual: I am fluent in Latin, Russian, English, French, German, Chinese, and various other languages."
Clint looked at me in amazement. We drove in silence the rest of the way.