Chapter One: The Dreamers

Dahlia Sank

Eighth Grade. The year of my dreams because eighth grade is the year when we mixed with the Blackthorne Boys (AKA BBs). The boys had to love me because everyone else did. Duh! When a girl with a rocking supermodel body becomes a spy, she is the hottest person on the planet.

I reached the top of the stairs and flung myself into my best friend Faithlynn (AN: I changed Folia's name to Faithlynn. Sorry.).

"Faith, darling, you grew!" I said in my Georgian drawl, holding her thin arms and looking her straight in the eye.

"Well, you can't be taller than all of us, now could you." grinned my tricky friend. We then linked arms and walked toward our old room, maintenance men following us up the spiraling staircase. At the top, we turned left and almost ran over Professor Sutton-Anderson, our tiny computers teacher.

"Oh, excuse me ladies…" she mumbled, continuing under her breath as she passed, "That Emma Hanson girl looks familiar, who…?

"Oh yes, Chameleon. I must ask Zach what happened to her…" She was out of hearing range.

"Who the heck in Emma Hanson, Dahl?" Lynnie breathed in my ear. I am proud to be daughter of Tina Heather Walters and Henry Sank and that I am the resident gossip poster for the Gallagher eighth grade webpage (The teachers can't even get on because you need to be on an iPod touch (not that they know that) to crack the code that has a timer to it.)

"Classified." I said to my best friend because I just couldn't say I don't know in front of her. She depends on me to tell the truth. Sometimes that feels like a bad thing, others, good.

Luckily, Faithlynn Grace Honan didn't have time to ask me more, because I was turning the key to enter our room.

Faithlynn Honan

I opened my mouth to ask why Dahl could not tell me who the crap this girl was, but then she unlocked the door to our home and we saw the intruder.

Emma Hanson

I was sitting on my bed, creating a papier-mâché replica of DNA. Just like Mom did… the annoyingly truthful voice in the back of my head. Mom had given me to the CIA when I was born because of my father. Charles Hanson had taken me in and taught me everything about my mother, who had gone to the school that I am at right now.

Gallagher Academy.

Charlie had told me something disturbing. Mama was out there fighting terrorists and that was why I couldn't even know her name. I can't even tell anyone that I was taught the skills of being a spy previously. I have to act dumb!

Well, while I was bashing myself up for thinking of Mother, the door burst open and two extremely rich-looking girls were standing on the threshold with two burly maintenance men behind them, holding matching sets of Louis Vuitton luggage.

One of the girls was familiar… Oh! She was the First daughter, Faithlynn Honan! She had high-cheekbones and her tame white-blonde curls pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her eyes were cloudy blue and I wouldn't say she was pretty because I once saw a picture of Mama and she was pretty. She was around nineteen years old and had light brown wavy hair that was exactly like mine. I think that I had my dad's eyes though, although Charlie said that I looked like my aunt with my emerald eyes.

The other girl looked like a supermodel. She was thin, but muscular and her black hair hung like a sheath over her shoulders down to her butt. She had eyes so blue that they were almost violet. Her eyes were alight with malice as she looked at my clothes and hair.

They were both in the uniform (minus the pink knee socks, which were optional).

They both scrunched their noses and at the same time, said, "What are you doing in our room. We need the space." And then Model-y (ha ha I'm funny) continued, "Plus, that's my bed. Get out of it or die."

Well, aren't they cute?

They think that they can hurt me.

Their bag-carriers placed their bags just inside of the room and ran away to do more manly work.

"I am your new roommate, Emma Hanson, and this is my bed now." I giggled and the girls laughed with me.

"Oh, you think that we can't make you move?" Faithlynn said coldly.

"You're new. You haven't had P & E before." smirked Model-y.

"So obviously we're going to kick your butt. Right, Dahlia?" Faithlynn said, a smile spreading across her face.

"I wouldn't try me girlies. All I have to do is press this button and help will be here in under a minute." I said, pulling my bottle-cap necklace Charlie's wife, Renee, made for me.

I swear they would have killed me just then but Headmistress Newman popped her dark skinned head into the room.

"Girls, get along or I'll sick Professor Newman on you," she warned.

This must have been an impressive threat, because immediately the girls went to unpacking their things onto two of the three remaining beds. I wonder who our third roomy is; I hope it's someone nicer than Dahlia. She's just a brat. Well, just when I thought things couldn't get worse, they did.

Faithlynn Honan

I hope Headmistress Newman doesn't sick her husband on us! He's our P&E teacher and he sometimes helps Mr. Zachary Goode with Cove. Ops. He is buff and totally, Greek God-ish and he almost killed Clara Ying last year when he was teaching us how to incorporate gymnastics into our individual fighting styles.

I finished making my bed and gently sat on it, as to not mess up the crisp sheets. That was the moment when Kayleigh Newman burst into the room.

Kayleigh is the daughter of the headmistress and our P&E teacher and, boy is she a strong one. She always wins in her P&E fights because everyone is afraid of her. I wonder how the boys will react to her? She has mocha colored skin, raven black hair, and chocolate eyes that see everything, just like her mother's.

"Gals, the boys are here!" she shouted, causing Dahlia and me to squeal and clap our hands. Emma didn't seem phased, but I saw this flash of anger in her eyes before she buried her face in her Seventeen magazine.

What is with her?