Ok, this is my new story. I haven't given up on my other ones, but I feel like I need a new project and I already have most of this story written up.
Just so you know, they dont go to gallagher. They belong to an organisation that trains up children to make them in to spys.
"Cameron Morgan, to the director's office please." Was yelled over the intercom, and I stood up. Grabbing my blazer and quickly looking in the mirror to check that I looked ok.
"What have you done?" Rebecca Baxter asked and I shrugged, her long brown hair fell in to her eyes as she studied the folder of papers in front of her.
I shook my head and grabbed my purse as I said, "I have no flipping idea, and I'll fill you in later." I smiled as she nodded, barely looking up from her work, her black glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.
My heels clicked as I walked down the marble corridor and up the stairs, nodding slightly to people who flicked a glance at me.
I knocked on the door and stepped inside. "Director?" I asked when I saw another guy standing in the room opposite the larger, less muscular form of Director Solomon.
"Cammie!" He exclaimed and I nodded my greetings. I was slightly nervous at the prospect being in trouble. Was I getting fired? Was I being replaced with a better model? No that was impossible, I was the best, and the director had even told me so. "This is Zach Goode," he paused slightly, giving himself enough time to nod at the other man, who was still studying the wall opposite me, and then continued. "I need you to train him up, you're the best." He smiled at me.
'Zach' finally turned around and the breath was knocked out of me.
There are not a lot of things that can take Cammie Morgan aback, and one of them was the god-like boy standing in front of me. Yes 'boy'. We were all merely children, but while most of us started training at such a young age, others were handpicked by the director when we were older.
I guessed that he wasn't a day older than sixteen, just like me, but I was handpicked a lot younger than he was – at the age of thirteen I was introduced to the director and offered a place where I could train and – in their words – 'become the country's greatest weapon.'
"Hello." I smiled as he spoke, his voice so gentle and carefree; there was no way that he could work here. He was going to get too much attention.
His effortless good looks would turn any girls head, his soft, chocolate coloured hair fell in to his startlingly green eyes. His frame was tall, but not lanky, he was muscled. The white t-shirt he wore stretched over his chest and showed the contours of the muscles in his arms. I bit my lip and nodded slightly, as I said, "Hello Goode." and he nodded, it looked like he was biting back a smile.
"You are the best." The director said again and I nodded. "Take the spare classroom and make him great." He nodded at the door, our signal to leave. "You have three months."
So tell me what you think, and if you want me to continue the story. Press the nice little review button down there, just waiting for you to click it.