FBI Agent

Five.

"Ah, Hunter. Welcome to my class." Mr Sutherland smiles, gesturing for me to stand next to him. I grimace slightly, the feeling of thirty sets of eyes on me unsettling. I bravely stand beside him, my face expressionless as he introduces me to the class. Instead of listening to his words, my eyes scan over the pupils, looking for Calvin Black.

"Hunter? Hunter?" Mr Sutherland repeats, shaking my shoulder slightly. I snapped out of it and gave him a small smile —

"Yes?"

"Would you like to tell us about yourself."

Not really...

"Sure thing," I smile, looking back at the class.

"My names Hunter and I'm sixteen. I like to play sports and yeah." I finish off, shrugging my shoulders. A few snickers from the pupils at the back can be heard and I narrow my eyes, glaring at them.

"Where are you from? Your accent is different," a girl with long blonde hair asks me, sitting in the front row. I shoot her a smile, the scowl on my face disappearing.

"I grew up in the south and moved around quite a lot. My accent is a little muddled." I reply. She beams back at me, nodding her head slowly.

"That's awesome, I like it."

"Thanks," I respond, grateful to have someone look at me in a friendly way. I clear my throat, skimming over the class before turning back towards Mr Sutherland.

"Can I sit down now?" I ask quietly and he nods, gesturing to a seat in the middle.

"Take your pick Hunter."

I slowly weave my way through the tables, ignoring the burning stares. The door suddenly opens and a few of the students begin to whisper in excited hushed tones. As I'm sitting down, I place my backpack underneath the table, getting settled. Mr Sutherland's voice causes me to snap my head up —

"Calvin, you're late again. Sit down."

At the mention of Calvin, I turn my head and meet eyes with Calvin Black. I immediately feel like I've had the wind knocked out of me. The black and white photo I've studied of him over and over again looks nothing compared to the boy standing in front of me. He's built tall and broad, not muscly but definitely defined. His eyes are a dark shade of green, intense with the ability to pierce straight through you. That's when I notice the eyebrow piercing, a single silver hoop in his right eyebrow that wasn't included in the mugshot.

Huh, a new addition.

The thick dark strands of his hair messily falls over into his eyes and he makes no attempt to push it back. He's wearing an all black outfit completed with a dark jacket that looks worn in and over used. His eyes scan over the crowd and he looks bored, like he doesn't want to be here at all. . . Until they land on me.

I hold my stare, knowing I need him to take an interest in me immediately. Despite looking into the eyes of hundred and hundreds of criminals, I feel myself grow nervous. His dark eyes pierce straight through mine, head slightly tilted as his lips twitch up with interest. Part of me wonders if he already knows that I'm an FBI agent, ready to bust him and his father.

I cock my head to the side, my eyes challenging him to give me something back. As he walks slow strides towards me, he never once blinks. Once he's standing beside me, the scent of his cologne hits me and I bite the inside of my cheeks to remind myself to stay calm. I need to act like I want this boy.