Fantasy eyes.

Chapter 2

12 years ago.

Birmingham England.

Drake.

School days in England are so boring, you could get a terminal illness because of them, nothing new ever happens in them, I don't say the tension is not relieved regularly but the flavor of the high school tend to become outdated. No wonder Caleb chooses to play in a band to spice things up, while Winter started to go a lot to the underground fighting club. I tag along sometime, but that too started to get old.

The old man Gregory Duncan pushed us to attend these private schools, and mingle among the rich kids, as part of his plan to gather dirt information's on his rivals, through their offspring. Especially the ladies, you screw them the right way, and they start singing like canaries about their parents' social life, or even their private affairs. Just the right leverage to make them sweat and bend to his demands, and no one would suspect high school kids.

A genius plan if it was done by willing participant. But my brother, winter and I are made to live this life. The old man holds the most important card against us, my baby sister Ella. He keeps her away from us, and only allows us phone calls with her once a month to update us on her situations. And even those are closely watched, to restrict the amount of information we communicate to each other. Although we are his blood, he sees us as his tools, to use and dispose of us when unneeded. Each day I grow anxious of how much more we can keep up this charade.

I sigh as I lean on hallway wall between the classrooms. Today I was transferred to the A section of this high school, which is divided in two sections. The A for the strait A student with more brain than wits, and the B section for the muscle heads. Normally I would be in the B section -I am not saying I do not have the intellect, but I try to downplay it, to pass under the radar. Because the secret to a good spy is to not attract unwanted attention.

But here I am with the nerds, to find another nerd. A girl to be precise -Gregory's newest target's daughter. Her name is Jack line Acker. Her father Oswald Acker own half of the south of Scotland and the north of England. His pull in those regions make him the biggest adversary Gregory has ever been up against, and his daughter-which was discovered from a past affair- is attending this school.

The old man aim is for me to get close to her, enough so that she will spill every dirty secret she has on her dad. But even a regular mission like this turned out to be quite challenging. The little information I have on her is vexing to say the least. It seems that she is a typical nerd, keep to herself, does not mingle, and does not come to school much. But still ace every test and without any home schooling -if the teachers' words can be trusted on that- she also has a black belt in karate and taekwondo, and now she is learning fencing and horse riding.

To make matter worse I have no idea how she looks. The school does not have any picture of her, and her data are protected in a safe, among those of other elite in a high security bank -did I say it was rich people school only. The other students also do not have any useful info on her, nor do they seem curious about her.

This A sections appears to be like a silent war zone. Everyone seems to be walking the edge of madness, and even I can feel the pressure. The tests I passed first thing this morning was made of 30 sheets, and enough questions to make you go blind. Unfortunately, I had to pass the ritual morning test and ace it, if not I would be tossed back to the B section -thanks god for my wits. I must stay here and hook Jack line Acker. This month phone call to Ella depends on it.

Hearing the second period bell, I head to my locker to get the manual and notes I need for the next class. When I close my locker door, I find myself dropping my books all over the floor as I stare dumbly at the most beautiful girl, I have ever laid eyes on.

Jet black hair -which looks like a waterfall of silk- falls to the small of her back, and her face, God her face is a work of art. Never in my life have I seen skin so perfect. Her cheek bones are high, and sharp as glass, with a natural rosy blush to them. Her lush lips are the perfect bow shape, which make me think of long sensual kisses. Her long lash -which are freaking long- were shielding her gaze like a perfect fan.

She seemed to be utterly unconcerned with my shocked response. I try to regain my composure and crouch to gather my thing. As I try to stand, I see her extend a sheet of paper to me. I look up and lose what I gathered again to the floor. God, I feel like I have been sucker punched and my breath rush out of my lungs. Her eyes -which were shielded before- are looking down at me in the most neutral manner. But the most striking is that they should be illegal for how much colors there is in them. I cannot even pinpoint their nuance. Green, gold, and blue with flecks of brown, violet, hazel and more. Those are eyes of fantasy they cannot be real.

I hear her clear her throat, and frown at me as she shoves the sheet toward me. I snap of my daydream and take the sheet from her with a mumbled thanks. She goes to sidestep me but stop before my scattered books. She looks down and I scramble to gather my staff. At that moment, I feel her kneel beside me, and help gather my thing. The movement make her scent envelope me; a fresh citrus flavor that make my mouth water, and I inhale her scent like a starved man.

When all is clear from the floor, we stand and she hands me a neat pile of sheets and books, her actions clean and dignified.

« Thank you » I say when my tongue untangles from itself, she looks up at me, and I feel the knot in my stomach form again. God who is this girl?

«I'm Drake Furrow » I say in a rush, I want to hear her voice even if it is to make fun of my stupid display. Hell, she can laugh at me.

Cocking her head to the side; In an elegant manner which accentuate her delicate neck, and make her hair falls lightly to the side. She parts her lips, making my already painfully hard cock, stir in my pants. Although, the word that forms next on her sensual lips, make an ice-cold bucket of water fall over me.

« Jack Acker, pleasure to make your acquaintance » With that she walks away and does not look back, leaving me with my racing heart and mind.

My target "Jack line Acker" known as "Jack Acker", has just made me look like dumb idiot, and has given me the biggest hard on of my life, without even touching me… I am screwed.