Author's Note: Another chapter! Not sure why but I like writing in the male's perspective more than the girl's, perhaps it's because I don't see it too often. So this one is in Jake's.

Hope you enjoy, read and review.


I entered the classroom that day in a better mood than usual, as in I didn't push Jamie as hard as I should have. "What the fuck was that for Jake?" Jamie pushed away the hands that tried to calm him down. His nostrils were flaring angrily, but I didn't care too much.

I smirked, "Oh nothing, I guess I'm just a dick."

Jamie flinched a bit realizing that I heard what he said about me. Sharon chose that moment to finally show up to class, her breathing was slightly labored.

Now here's something you need to know about our school. It was built in a way so that we would get the maximum amount of exercise possible. Meaning wherever we went, it was at least full mile of climbing, swimming, and walking we had to do to get to our classes, to the library, our rooms and even to the gym (believe it or not). But it had become second nature to us so we hardly ever broke out into a sweat. The point is, Sharon had to do something a lot more difficult to exert herself to that point. I was intrigued.

Before I could ask her about it, she replied while fixing her hair, "Yeah keep doing what you're doing, it'll definitely change the perception of you."

'I don't need to know.' I convinced myself, whatever she was doing on her own time was none of my business.

"I'm your new Provider." We never got the same Provider twice which was kind of creepy because we never saw any of them ever again, but it gave birth to a ritual for me to silently asses their worth.

His features were a stark contrast to our beautiful Provider from yesterday. I could honestly say that the only two things that I thought they had in common was the fact that they were deadly as hell and were "teachers" in the same school. He might have been good-looking if it weren't for all the scars ornamenting his face. One of his demonic eyes was a milky blue color unlike his other brown one, I wasn't exactly sure if he was blind in one eye or not.

"We're starting our new unit: Sniping."

I furrowed my brow, I knew for a fact that Providers were experts on whatever subject they were teaching and I was in the Senior Class Percent 1 so this one irked me more than I liked. He couldn't be a very good spy if he was clumsy enough to get those scars.

He started etching a diagram into the blackboard, "This is a basic design of the most common sniper rifle..." I decided not to pay attention after that, I doubt he could even teach me more than I already knew from reading. So I started daydreaming about shooting Sharon with a dart dipped with Box Jellyfish venom, then in a seamless sweep my fantasy shifted to me shooting her in the face with a Barrett M82, a nice .50 caliber bullet.

I was in the middle of burying her faceless body when something struck me on the side of the head, I seethed, "What the fuck?" I ripped open the notebook paper that was in front of me, it was probably one of those stupid love notes I've been getting lately.

'PAY ATTENTION!' I knew from the handwriting who it was. I turned around and glared at Sharon who was pointing at the front of the class.

I scribbled, on my own paper 'I fucking am!' We took a lesson on reading lips and pencil strokes so I knew she could tell what I was writing.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. While staring at the front she still somehow wrote in perfect borderline caligraphic writing, 'I'm not the Provider, I can tell when you're not listening. If you mess up next exam, they're going to blame me too! Don't screw this up for me!' I was taken aback, I had the pretending-to-be-listening look down, so much so that everyone bought it.

But I retained my wits and coughed back a smug smirk, 'First of all, I could give two shits about you looking bad or not and secondly, I've also been practicing at the shooting range idiot.' I felt compelled to kick her while she was down, so to speak, just to spite her.

She clicked her tongue, 'Fine, but I'm going to kill you if you do anything to jeopardize my grade.'

I scoffed again, 'Awww, I'm fucking shaking in my boots since you know, your attempt four years ago went so well.' I peeked a glance at her, right on cue her eyes narrowed like a cat. I looked away again, and in a victorious stretch I lethargically wrote, 'I always wear a bullet proof suit since Ms. Denny dumbass.'

She kept writing coolly, but I saw that my insults were starting to get to her. 'There are other ways to kill other than guns or haven't you been paying attention at all for the past seven years? And besides even when you're wearing your bullet proof suit, I can still shoot you right between the eyes with that same Beretta and your precious suit wouldn't be able to do a thing.'

'Ooh, your Beretta's real scary when I'm a thousand feet away with my Barrett .50 Cal.' I taunted.

'You know damn well that the Beretta is a reliable weapon.' She was scowling at our Provider, but it was clearly aimed at me. Her writing neatness was suffering slightly from the rage oozing into each word.

I smirked, 'Is that what you tell all the people you kill?' I know what I was saying was pretty harsh and downright vicious, but she deserved it.

I watched happily, her cheeks were turning a deep red. 'You've obviously not learned anything about guns, the M40A3 is so much more accurate.' She said steering the conversation to a different direction. I shrugged, it figures that she studied sniper rifles too.

'Yeah well the Barrett .50 Cal has a faster fire rate.'

'Why? You afraid that you might miss your mark?' She sneered.

I squinted in annoyance, 'You know what? Why don't you put your gun where your mouth is? I bet you any-fucking-thing that I do better than you on the next exam with a Barrett .50 Cal than your M40A3.'

'Just...think about what you just said... Why would I... put my gun... Never mind.' Her lip curled in disgust, 'Normally I would say no to something so moronic and utterly pathetic, but I just want to rub it in your ugly face when I win.'

'It's just an expression I learned two years ago, I'm pretty sure I have it right.' I put that unsure feeling in my stomach aside and looked her in the eyes confidently. She looked back briefly before breaking eye contact to focus on my hand flitting across the page, 'And, I get that you hate me, but let's not lie and say that I'm ugly.' Her face visibly showed her revulsion making me laugh a little louder than I wanted to.

"Hey! What's going on back there?" My keen ears heard a sharp snap from where our Provider's chalk hit the floor, everyone directed their attention towards us. "Are you two passing notes back there?" After our school implemented the study of handwriting and lip-reading there was no use for passing notes, but we couldn't find a phrase that worked with how we communicated, (Are you reading each other's handwriting sounded completely idiotic), so at the risk of sounding old-fashioned, we keep that same question.

"No sir." Sharon replied automatically, but immediately closed her eyes in regret.

I wrote faster than ever before, 'You're so stupid!'

Our Provider gave her a curious look. "Why did you feel the need to defend yourself when you weren't even sure who I was talking to?"

She steadily held his gaze (Spy Tip: Never show fear no matter the case), "Please excuse my actions sir."

"What's your name?" He demanded, his fingers flexed and twitched in a demented way.

"Sharon."

"Your designation?" Everyone could feel the impatience within him growing.

"Venus, Sharon, Senior 1, 1, 1, 1." I loved that we were assigned designations. Mine was pretty much identical except it was 'Mars, Jake, Senior 1, 1, 1, 1.' If you were a terrible student at this school, the designation is a shackle clutching at your ankles in a desperate claim to destroy your reputation, but if you were brilliant it was like having a badge of honor everywhere you went. The set-up went like this: Gender, Name, Grade Class Percent, Gender Rank in Class, Gender Rank in entire School, Overall Grade Percentage in entire School.

I know what you're thinking, how could Sharon be 1 for Overall Grade Percentage in entire School if I was as too, it was actually answered about two years ago. Our grades differed only in the hundred-thousandth of a percent that it was deemed too close (103.32138 103.32137 and it would change each year depending on who "won"), so our Rank is tied. But its a tricky Rank to obtain, since it was comparing every single Grade Average in the School, that meant even the children that just entered and obtained a hundred on their single test. Their average would jump to an easy hundred, and let me tell you, getting that extra 3 percent was no easy feat.

But enough about that. I was pretty pleased with myself in that moment. Since we were children it was deeply ingrained in our minds that one should sacrifice oneself to protect a platoon/group (layman's term: taking one for the team), so I knew Sharon wouldn't crack and tell him that it was me she was "passing notes" to.

I wrote at a leisurely pace, a self-assured smile keeping me company. 'If you want help, all you have to do is say please.' Our Provider was lecturing her about how she was a shame to her class rank, blah blah blah.

Sharon only glared like I knew she would, but I kept writing, and if you don't know how to read someone's handwriting like we can let me explain it. It really doesn't look like anything when you're outside looking in, but to us it feel like its an obligation to read every time you see it, kind of like reading subtitles even when you can hear perfectly. And sometimes you can read the words so smoothly that it's like reading over someone's shoulder or having someone whisper slick words into your ear. And I could tell by the expression she was making that she felt the latter.

'C'mon. You know he's going to send you to the Chamber of Secrets. (The designer of the Chamber was an avid fan of some book series even going so far as to name one of our rooms after it, but I forgot the book's name.) Do you want a smudge on your otherwise spotless record?' Her grimace lightened considerably at that.

Everyone else that was looking at her exceptionally postured self would have thought she was blinking rapidly because she was scared, but I knew she was blinking to me in Morse Code. 'Please.'

In an instance of perfect timing, our Provider motioned her to the Chamber of Secrets. I hid my smirk under a stony exterior, "Sir, I can not let you condemn her to the Chamber of Secrets even if it is well-deserved." I saw out of the corner of my eye that her eye twitched at my statement. "Sharon and I were given specific orders to study together after our lessons."

"What is your name and designation?" He asked skeptically. To follow our conversation the other students pivoted their heads back and forth like a crowd of brain-dead zombies.

"Mars, Jake, Senior 1, 1, 1, 1."

He looked between the two of us just like the other students were doing a moment ago and I swear I heard him mutter under his breath, "Shit." He cleared his throat and said monotonously, "I'll let you two off for today."

'Did that...seem...odd?' Sharon asked once the Provider made his way to the front and continued his lesson.

'It did.' We stopped talking after that. I knew she was thinking the same thing as me. There was something wrong with how that was handled. It felt like it was a lot more important that we studied together than the Providers cared to admit. I directed my attention to one of the looming cameras, I'm sure it was recording everything and reporting it back to the anonymous leader that was treating us like pawns.


"So that's why you never want to be chewing gum while aiming with the sniper rifle." There was a shrill sound of a woman screaming (that was our class bell). "I expect everyone to practice in the outdoor shooting range at least once before your exam, class dismissed." It sounded like a fair warning, but coming from his mouth, it was more like a threat.

Everyone shuffled along to the double doors at the end of the room, except for a couple of people who thought triggering the trap doors would get them to the cafeteria faster. I swear there's always at least one of those stupid people in the crowd that think that or it's the same people that are still bemused about that concept.

Once out the door we broke up into sub-groups, actually I shouldn't say we, I haven't had a friend for the past five years. It seems that people have ceased to interest me, as conceited as it sounds. Only Sharon and Jamie was worth any sense of amusement for me, but she's my mortal enemy so that keeps a substantial buffer between us and Jamie was like a toy that I pick up and play with once in a while.

"Boring." I said out loud.

"Want us to keep you company?" Two familiar voices squealed making goose bumps erupt on my skin.

I sighed, when you have these types of conversations every day, for some reason you start getting agitated when it springs up again. I turned around and trotted backwards, "I would but..." I racked my brains for an excuse. I shrugged, I might as well tell the truth, "But... I hate you." Before they could process what I said and rearrange it to sounds like I somehow loved them, I sprinted towards the cafeteria.

After about five minutes, I made it safely. The swimming and climbing was annoying, sure, and I was out of breath which was new, but I was not about to let those cows catch up to m- and there they are.

I jerked backwards, "How did you?" My mind went through the entire obstacle course, but I don't recall ever seeing them there.

"Trap door." They said while grinning a grin so large that it covered the entire expanse of their face.

"That's a myth!" I couldn't help but throw my frustrated hands into the air.

"We're here aren't we?" They pointed out.

I chose to ignore them since it was irrefutable proof that trap doors worked. I mechanically stood in the lunch line as it moved in a snail-like fashion. "Why do you like me?" I asked suddenly, the answer to that question always eluded me.

"Because you're Jake." Their eyes gleamed as if I had just asked them out on a date.

"That is a very unsatisfying answer," I said bluntly. "And it also makes no sense."

"Well... Because..." I knew they had no idea why they were even attracted to me. When they first started I tolerated it since I didn't know how irritating girls could be, but they've single-handedly made me cynical.

"Mars, Jake Senior 1, 1, 1, 1." I said into the intercom. Everyone had a choice to have literally any meal they wanted, it usually depended on what kind of physical advantages you wanted. Say you wanted more flexible joints, you would order Supplement Zeta, Pi, 4. As for the intercom, we were never allowed to study the blueprints of the school, but I figured it worked by processing the voice command and matching it to your approved diet.

"I guess it's because..." They fingered the spaces in their hair curls. I think I actually liked them like this than how they are regularly. While they were trying to figure out the impossible, we made it to the other end of the line where my supplements should have been. Instead there was a small purple cube sitting on a plate.

"There's been a mistake." I said to the machine like it could hear me. "I only approved Supplement Alpha 1." Compared to the other supplements it was pretty bland, but it gave increased, yet equal prowess to all areas of the body. In red digital letters the machine said, 'Next.'

"But I-"

'Next!' I frowned at the machine, but left like I was told.

"I know! I like you because you are the best spy student ever." One of the nameless girls giggled clinging onto my arm. Without even thinking about it I shrugged her off and scoured the bustling cafeteria for one empty table.

"Yeah! Me too!" The other one agreed. I growled in contempt, I could not take these girls, I swore I was going to explode and just kill them and I didn't want to go to the Chamber of Secrets for yet another attempted murder. After a calming breath, I bee-lined over to the one table that no one would ever follow me to in a million years.

Like always this particular table was completely empty except for one meticulous boy. Meticulous as in, staring at his food in peculiar amazement and eating every bite as though it was his last. Here was the thing about this guy, he just showed up to school randomly one day and everyone avoided him because of how weird he seemed. No one knew anything about him, not his grade level, class rank, or even his name, so they nicknamed him Red because of his severe, red hair.

Personally, all I knew about him was that his food choice was disgusting. But even stranger was that he would change his food choice everyday, today it was something called a hamburger.

When I sat down he stared at me with a curious, child-like gleam in his eyes. He spooned some of his 'mashed' potatoes into his mouth. I was an unknown creature sneaking around his case of weapons and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to kill me or not.

"You don't recognize me do you?" His voice was light and laced with amusement. I returned his interested gaze. His angular jaw and pale, blue eyes were somewhat familiar, but his red hair, nose shape, and cheeks weren't recognizable as anyone to me.

"Should I?" I deflected.

He grinned boyishly, bit into his meat sandwich and kept talking. "So how've ya been Jake?" It was strange the way he spoke. There was no distinctive accent, but there was a casual flow to his words that I couldn't quite explain.

"How do you know my name?" I wondered aloud. His smile was infectious which is why I'm sure I was smiling as well.

His twinkling eyes took in my face and body intently, not in a way that was creepy or even unwanted. But... I felt strangely uncomfortable, almost like I cared what he thought. "Aren'tcha gonna eat your food?" My face sobered up and I looked down.

In all my years, I have seen some pretty weird stuff. Supplement Beta, Epsilon, 31 was a nonsensical wiggling noodle thing and Supplement Delta 1 was a ball of meat covered in edible hair-like extensions. But I had never seen anyone get a purple, one inch cube in every dimension like this one, strange but true.

"It says something." He motioned to the side of the block with his hamburger.

I squinted, and read the tiny gold letters, "Just add...water?" I ended with a confused edge, what the hell did that mean?

"Just add water." The boy read it upside down and carefully ate more of his liquidy potatoes. "Well, go on then, add the water." He encouraged me and handed me my glass of electrolyte-infused water.

I tipped over a couple of droplets of water. I stared attentively, "Well that was a wast- WOAH!" I even stumbled from my seat, the small cube grew ten times its original size in the blink of an eye.

Red laughed with his whole body and ate more of his hamburger. "Dunno 'bout you, but I wasn't expectin' that."

I got up flustered and more embarrassed than I would have been if Sharon beat me at something. I sat down at the table again, everyone pointed and stared at me for a few more seconds before going back to their meals. But some eyes lingered longer.

He grinned ear-to-ear but kept his eyes trained on me. "Aren't you embarrassed at all?" I asked keeping my eyes low and shielded away from stares.

"Course not." He took a sip of what looked like red water, but his genuine smile was guaranteeing his honesty.

"Right." I said lamely.

I stared at the purple block for a while longer, I wasn't sure if it was safe to eat or not. It seemed perfectly honest, right up until I took a bite. "What the hell?!" It was like I held my mouth out to a flame, "What is that taste?" My tongue poked out, there was nothing amiss physically on my tongue.

"Here." Red reached out and took a crumb from it. He let it roll on his tongue for a bit, "So pampered." He shook his head and laughed maniacally, "It's called spicy."

"Spicy." I said the word slowly. I hadn't eaten regular food since my lesson on world cuisine, so it was too stimulating for my taste.

I sighed, it was just short of being unbearable but last time I went without lunch my body fell into a catatonic state. For the rest of lunch Red and I didn't speak to each other. He would look at me then laugh shortly after like he was in on some huge joke. I chewed and squinted in thought, but his face was something I didn't recognize.

He licked the last of his spuds and downed his red drink, "I'ma go now, but see ya around Jakey." I should've been annoyed at the way he butchered my name, but it made me smile a little. Red stood up, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his blazer. He stretched himself for a few seconds and sauntered away with the same adolescent smile lighting up his face.

I shook off a strange feeling from my stomach. I'm sure I would have remembered someone like that.


I had been sitting in one of the library chairs for about ten minutes when Sharon made her way to me. "What...did you eat today?" She pulled a chair right next to me and wore an uneasy frown.

"A purple cube."

"Me too. It was so...fiery?" She placed all her books and notes into different piles.

"Can you be any more pampered?" I rolled my eyes, "It's called spicy."

"Maybe they ran out of Supplement Alpha 1?" She ignored my nasty remark.

"I guess..." For some reason, I doubted that that was true.

She flipped through some of her notes, highlighted a few sentences and casually said, "I heard you ate lunch with Harry."

"Harry?" Why did that sound so familiar? "Who's that?"

"You know, Harry." Sharon pushed back strands of her brown hair. "He used to be on our class."

"That was that Harry? What the hell happened to him? He used to be so normal."

Sharon rolled her eyes, "Just because he's different doesn't mean there's something wrong with him."

"Hmmm..." I licked the top of my teeth and smiled, "So are you going to put your gun where your mouth is?" I whispered so the cameras wouldn't be able to hear me.

"Still doesn't make sense," She chided me. "But yes."

"What do you bet then?" I asked while labeling the different parts of the sniper in a cut-out diagram.

"I will refuse to finish the next exam." She offered.

I stopped writing, that would permanently lower Sharon to the second. But there had to be a steep price for something like that, I asked warily, "What do you want in return?"

"You will be a nice person to Jamie and myself until our next exam." She snickered, "I know, it sounds impossible."

"Fuck you." I seethed, "Deal."

"Let the best spy win." The ghost of a triumphant smile lit her face.