Chapter 3 : The Bodyguard
I had thought things couldn't get any worse when he was around...but then he was gone and things actually got worse...
It was eighth period, one period before the school day was over, and Gary Simmons, the annoying new best friend of Jeremy Neubart, was still laughing when he saw me.
"Hey, Casper. Call me a j-j-jock h..." he couldn't even say the whole thing before he began to collapse into laughter.
Now I regretted dressing so shyly and being so quiet. No one could help but laugh at meek little Casper's attempt at confident rebuttal. Well I certainly didn't think it was very funny.
Leaning back in my seat in Spanish, I let out a slow yawn. The annoyingly perky Mr. Garcia was trying to get the whole class involved in the conjugation of the future tense. Of course, he only received low moans in response.
I was enjoying watching him jump up and down in front of Marisa's desk, frantically trying to get her to participate, when the girl behind me, Pamela Sanders, began whispering to her better half, Lora King.
"OMG! I am freakin' out girl. This new boy is so hot."
"He was in my first period class."
"I heard his dad is like really, really rich."
"Oh, I don't care about money, I just want my hubby."
The two erupted into silly giggles behind me.
That's when I realized that Jeremy Neubart wasn't in my class. It was a very funny thing, really, that I hadn't, when everywhere people were talking about him or my dumb blurt in Gym Class. According to the text the boss had sent to me during lunch, the only class we couldn't have together was where he diverted into band and I chose art instead. But that was ninth period...
My heart rate accelerated slightly as I realized finding him was part of my responsibility. Shooting my hand up, I asked Mr. Garcia to go to the nurse.
Luckily, as forward as Mr. Garcia was about the conjugation of a verb, he couldn't bring himself to say no to a teenage girl who painfully clutched her hand to her stomach. Blushing, he handed me a pass and told me to take as much time as I needed.
As soon as I exited the room, I took my human body mass gps out. It utilized the heat given off by any human up to three acres away and brought up focal points where the heat indexes were weaker.
In other words, wherever there was two or fewer people would be brought to my attention. Immediately, I centered the gps to the school and saw three main locations.
There was the make out spot out by the rear entrance to the school where serious couples generally went during their free periods, the band room downstairs where a teacher was probably giving a student a lesson, and the faculty office.
Well this stinks.
That means he probably left the school grounds. The implications of this caused my throat to dry up and my temple to pulsate.
He could be skipping school, but then again, he could also be kidnapped. My fake glasses felt awkard on my red, hot face. I decided to send the Boss a message as I quickly checked over the three locations.
Needless to say the Boss merely sent me a very thoughtful message in return: FIND HIM!
That was it. That was the way with the Boss. He didn't really have room for argument or condition. If I were doing a job, I had to go through with it as far as he was in charge.
He wouldn't call in Paul Demine or any emergency specialist to find Jeremy. It was just me.
When I checked the make out spot, sure enough I saw two lovebirds at the cusp of their relationship, embraced in a gross, tight hug in which I couldn't figure out where his arm began or her legs came out.
Before they could see me, I slipped away from the entrance and quickly made a light jog to the band room. From far away, I could hear the strum of the strings of an acoustic guitar. A lesson teacher, probably.
I was about to walk away when Jeremy's book bag caught my eye. Quietly, I walked in to the tiny room, searching for him.
For some reason, Jeremy had not been generous enough to turn on the lights because as I made my way through the room, I couldn't see much in front of me, especially with my fake glasses clouding the view. I knew better than to turn them on, though, and alert him to the fact that I was here.
Suddenly, my communicator vibrated, indicating another message from the Boss, but as I looked down I kept on walking and before I knew it, I had tripped over some large object. It was a guitar, and holding it was the smirking Jeremy Neubart.
"Hey, Casper. Call me a j-j-jock h..." he couldn't even say the whole thing before he began to collapse into laughter.
Now I regretted dressing so shyly and being so quiet. No one could help but laugh at meek little Casper's attempt at confident rebuttal. Well I certainly didn't think it was very funny.
Leaning back in my seat in Spanish, I let out a slow yawn. The annoyingly perky Mr. Garcia was trying to get the whole class involved in the conjugation of the future tense. Of course, he only received low moans in response.
I was enjoying watching him jump up and down in front of Marisa's desk, frantically trying to get her to participate, when the girl behind me, Pamela Sanders, began whispering to her better half, Lora King.
"OMG! I am freakin' out girl. This new boy is so hot."
"He was in my first period class."
"I heard his dad is like really, really rich."
"Oh, I don't care about money, I just want my hubby."
The two erupted into silly giggles behind me.
That's when I realized that Jeremy Neubart wasn't in my class. It was a very funny thing, really, that I hadn't, when everywhere people were talking about him or my dumb blurt in Gym Class. According to the text the boss had sent to me during lunch, the only class we couldn't have together was where he diverted into band and I chose art instead. But that was ninth period...
My heart rate accelerated slightly as I realized finding him was part of my responsibility. Shooting my hand up, I asked Mr. Garcia to go to the nurse.
Luckily, as forward as Mr. Garcia was about the conjugation of a verb, he couldn't bring himself to say no to a teenage girl who painfully clutched her hand to her stomach. Blushing, he handed me a pass and told me to take as much time as I needed.
As soon as I exited the room, I took my human body mass gps out. It utilized the heat given off by any human up to three acres away and brought up focal points where the heat indexes were weaker.
In other words, wherever there was two or fewer people would be brought to my attention. Immediately, I centered the gps to the school and saw three main locations.
There was the make out spot out by the rear entrance to the school where serious couples generally went during their free periods, the band room downstairs where a teacher was probably giving a student a lesson, and the faculty office.
Well this stinks.
That means he probably left the school grounds. The implications of this caused my throat to dry up and my temple to pulsate.
He could be skipping school, but then again, he could also be kidnapped. My fake glasses felt awkard on my red, hot face. I decided to send the Boss a message as I quickly checked over the three locations.
Needless to say the Boss merely sent me a very thoughtful message in return: FIND HIM!
That was it. That was the way with the Boss. He didn't really have room for argument or condition. If I were doing a job, I had to go through with it as far as he was in charge.
He wouldn't call in Paul Demine or any emergency specialist to find Jeremy. It was just me.
When I checked the make out spot, sure enough I saw two lovebirds at the cusp of their relationship, embraced in a gross, tight hug in which I couldn't figure out where his arm began or her legs came out.
Before they could see me, I slipped away from the entrance and quickly made a light jog to the band room. From far away, I could hear the strum of the strings of an acoustic guitar. A lesson teacher, probably.
I was about to walk away when Jeremy's book bag caught my eye. Quietly, I walked in to the tiny room, searching for him.
For some reason, Jeremy had not been generous enough to turn on the lights because as I made my way through the room, I couldn't see much in front of me, especially with my fake glasses clouding the view. I knew better than to turn them on, though, and alert him to the fact that I was here.
Suddenly, my communicator vibrated, indicating another message from the Boss, but as I looked down I kept on walking and before I knew it, I had tripped over some large object. It was a guitar, and holding it was the smirking Jeremy Neubart.
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