Post by Anastacia Haydin on Feb 3, 2009 14:22:48 GMT
"You gonna be alright Anna?"
Cia ground her teeth. She hated that nickname. Miss Haydin, daughter of the high-profile politician Hillary Haydin bent low to fasten her trainers. They were fat and bulky; skater sneakers, but they worked with the performance theme. Sitting on the hard bench, Cia didn't look at her co-dancer as she spoke.
"I'm fine Laurie, I only twisted it yesterday; nothing's broken or sprained." She looked up a little, her dark hair falling softly to frame her face. Her fingers were still routinely tying her laces. She smiled a little and then turned her attention back to her feet. The girl standing beside her, with long blond hair pulled into a braid was typical of teenagers in Uptown. Her skin was flawless from the money spent on cosmetics and her teeth perfectly even. Her hair was in glossy condition and probably the pride of her appearance when it hung loose in a shiny curtain down her back. Cia couldn't understand girls' liking for long tendrils; they just bugged her. Her own mop of naturally straight hair cut short about an inch off of her chin.
"You should be more careful on the stairs." Was Laurie's reply. Cia just gave a tight smile. There wasn't any way she could tell the girl that she hadn't actually fallen down the stairs. That had been a cover story. Instead, she had had an argument with her father, as was usual on a Friday afternoon and slammed the front door on her way out. She'd pulled her wrist in the force she had exerted on the handle. Damnit. She had closed that door with a loud bang every day she'd had a dance practice and yet it was the day before the concert performance that it caused her an injury. Just her luck. Somehow it seemed as if that house gave her more trouble than it was worth. She hated it.
But it wasn't exactly as if she could move out. What would the press and papers say? Mrs Haydin, major player in the local government, can't control her own daughter. Row ensued at their place of residence as young Miss Haydin left in a storming fury... Great. She'd never hear the end of it. She hated being in that house but she hated the idea of causing a media scandal even more. She only ever associated with people from Uptown and would never see the end of the whispers and looks. Not to mention that she'd damage her mother's career. She might not like the woman but she wasn't about to maliciously set out to harm the one thing Hillary Haydin cherished. Yeah... definitely the thing she most cherished. Cia didn't think she even made it into the top ten. But then she tended to prefer it that way so who was she to complain? At least the distance from her mother meant that she could live a relatively independent life without worry. It would have been really annoying if her mother was still trying to convert her into a mini-politician. Cia was lucky that the woman had realized that she was a lost cause and given up.
Finishing with her laces Cia uncurled her lean frame from where she had been sitting on the wooden bench and stood at her full 5 foot 7. She wasn't the tallest person around but she was tall enough. She shook her feet out a little to loosen up her legs the large khaki pants she was wearing shaking about. They cut off just below her knee similar to surfer shorts, leaving her shapely calves on display. Her top half was clad in a simple white, fitted, vest top. On her wrists were sweat bands and a fake tattoo was transfered onto one bicep. Her make-up was a little excessive so that the audience could see her expression. Looking around her, everyone else was dressed in a similar fashion. Dropping her gaze to the bench she had just vacated Cia stooped and picked up the large gangster-style baseball hat and pulled it on, slightly off-center. Around her neck hung a slim silver chain.
Cia moved toward one of the large mirrors lining the back wall and stood before one analyzing her appearance and costume. She didn't usually wear these kinda of clothes but she was performing a street-come-break dance on stage in the next half hour and she had to be dressed for the part. Laurie came up behind her.
"That style suits you so much better than me Anna. I can't understand why they made us dress this way; it's utterly awful." Cia resisted rolling her eyes. It was true that her black hair and pale skin gave her a tougher and rougher appearance than the other girls in the changing rooms. Many of them were also giving their attire a reproachful glare. They hadn't signed up for this performance. Instead they had joined the dance group for pilates and ballet. Cia had enjoyed the formal dance just as much as they had but she was the only one who had managed to hold onto her joy when the regime moved onto street dancing. She, in fact, loved this style more than ballet. She felt that you were a lot freer to express yourself with something that didn't have so many techniques and appropriate rules of movement.
Cia didn't really bother to give Laurie an answer but that was okay. The girl didn't really need one. They had all learned that Cia was quite quiet and never said anything unless she had something profound to communicate. The truth was she just didn't enjoy engaging in idle gossip like this girls did. She just didn't fit in with the heiress cliche. Instead she had a wilder and more creative spirit from her aunt that she harbored, fed, and fueled as much as possible. She believed it was what made her different, and reveled in it. She was proud of her reckless psyche. That didn't stop her from knowing, however, that it was inappropriate in certain circles, such as these. She knew when not to cross the line.
A yell called over the heads of the girls milling around Cia, and Cia's spine straightened a little.
"Alright girls! You know what you're doing! Cia I want you up front on the right; you know when to move to the center. Aim for about a metre from the right edge of the stage!"
Cia nodded. "Yes Ma'am!"
Her teacher, Madam Jenson, then moved on to instruct the others in exactly the position they would be standing in regards to the stage they were performing on. Cia shook out her hands a little and blew a breath out between tight lips. She felt, as usual, all her anxiety leave her as she strode forward through the crowd and out onto the stage. She couldn't see anything of the audience as they were separated from the dancers by a deep red curtain. Placing herself in the right position Cia listened to the hubb-bubb and general chatter seeping through the thick velvet toward her. The hall they were performing in was famous for it's performances by the talented young. Many talent scouts and company officials visited certain performances that could hold teenagers they look for. It was the dream of many a young girl to perform on that stage and be chosen. It was a one-in-a-million chance but they still dreamed. Cia didn't bother. She wasn't really sure where her life was going or what she was going to do with it but she did know that she danced simply because the physical exertion of it made her feel good; alive. It made her feel... dirty. It was like her entire existence had been clean and perfect. Money, nice clothes, etc. When she danced she became hot, sweaty and it made her feel tougher and stronger. She put her all into every performance so that she could feel pleased with her effort.
Shaking out her hands and feet again, Cia looked down at the large trainers she wore and tried to block out the noise from the crowds. She needed to focus solely on the music and her co-dancers if she was going to make a success of the performance. She knew, anyway that there was no-one in the audience to watch her but she didn't care. She wasn't going to let her lack of parental support stop her from feeling strong.
Cia turned her head and watched as the other girls, and some boys, moved out onto the stage into their positions. Laurie had the central position for this one but Cia knew that it wouldn't be for long. All three of them; Cia, Laurie and another girl Hydi would be getting the front spotlight, but Cia had the harder routine to pull off in it. Hers involved actual break dancing. That's why she was the only one wearing a hat- it was easier when your hair wasn't in the way. Now, the black strands were forced to remain down by her face, rather than fly about at the speed of her movements.
"Start positions" Called a voice and Cia bent into the correct pose. She started in a crouched position, one leg extended straight. One hand was on the ground fingers splayed while the other shot up behind her. Her face was pointed forward. She was ready.
Cia heard the microphone on the other side of the curtain be tapped and waited patiently, her muscles tensing, ready to hold the position until the third beat of the music. A calm, male voice introduced them as a dance company group and the music began. Hard, thumping beats resonated out of speakers and the curtains moved back, momentarily blinding Cia as the main lights shone down on them. Then, as her que came through the music Cia began to move.
The dance was complex in how it was routined but not in it's choreography. The moves weren't difficult to perform but there were so many that it took great concentration and memory to retain the routine in the mind. Cia's moves were sharp and focused. Each punch to the air felt like she was physically hitting something. Something that had been holding her back. It felt like achievement. In her own solo part the break dancing went well. Her stand on her hands, her legs in a running pose raised an applause and she was lucky that her hat trick didn't fail. She had been the one to take the main floor during the last chorus of the performance and she made sure that every action she made expressed her effort and determination. Grace was difficult in ballet but effort and force was necessary to fuel street-moves. And she had unplumbed depths of the stuff.
By the time the performance was over a bead of sweat was rolling down the sharp tendon of her neck and she felt moisture between her shoulder blades. Taking a pre-offered towel from her teacher she noted that she was probably the most worn-out looking. She had been the only one to give it her all, she was sure.
About half an hour later dinner was served to the audience and the performance in a hall off from the main one. Tables and chairs were set out so that the dancers could mingle with their parents and be congratulated and rewarded with all the things rich people chose to reward their children with; new cars for example.
Cia decidedly sat on her own. Eating her burger and salad Cia was just taking a mouthful of water when an older gentlemen took the seat in front of her, on the other side of the table. He rested his elbows on the surface, his head on his hands, and faced her.
"Would you be Miss Haydin?" He asked carefully.
She looked up, a little surprised and smiled politely.
"That, be me." She stated, tilting her head a little in inquiry. The man smiled confidently and nodded to her, holding out a hand.
"My name is Senior Tutor Benjamin Curtis Miss Haydin. I would like to speak to you about a proposal."
Cia's eyes raised a little and she picked up the napkin; material rather than tissue paper of course and wiped the slight grease from her fingertips. She was still dressed in her dance outfit, minus the hat that now sat beside her food tray. The tray itself was scattered with an empty bag that had contained a mix of salad and a half eaten burger. Her water bottle was three-quarters empty. Her eyes were a little brighter than normal as they fastened on the guy before her. She was always interested in new paths in life and new challenges. What was this guy going to offer her?
"Senior Tutor? Senior Tutor of what?" She hadn't forgotten his small mention of his job title. Was he a teacher of some kind?
The man smiled and let his hands fall to the table where they held together non-challantly as he spoke; "I work for a university that I think you might enjoy attending." He stated simply. "Our establishment invites only the best of the USA population to attend. We take on about twenty four students a year." Cia frowned a little. That was an awfully low number. What had she done to merit an invitation? Suddenly her frown deepened and turned darker.
"Sir, if you are here to offer me a place at your school simply because of my parents; whether they've asked you or whatever I'd have to decline. I don't want to get anywhere in this world with their help; I want to do it myself." Cia snapped her mouth shut and looked down at the table intently, realizing that she sounded rather rude. She twisted her hands together and then reached out and took a bite of her burger to excuse herself from saying anything. Her attention on the table top indicated her bashfulness at her outburst. She snuck a look at her visitor, intent on seeing whether she had offended him but he was simply smiling slightly. Just a turn up at one corner of his mouth. He nodded a little.
"Very good. I commend that determination Miss Haydin, but no, I am not here with concerns to your parents but with concerns to you. The university I work for takes students on who gifted in one of more of the following; academic success, physical fitness, team co-ordination and camaraderie, and personal work ethic."[/b][/i] Cia's expression was clearing a little. Her mind was speeding forward, wondering what he was going to say about how she full-filled that criteria. "I come to these events at the Victorian Hall regularly to try and find students that may fit into the physical fitness area. Your abilities in all methods of dance -(I've been here many times)- is impressive, but I have also seen in you more than your peers a driving determination to succeed. Am I wrong Miss Haydin?"
Cia swallowed and shook her head enthusiastically. "No Sir. I am determined. Very much so. I like to be able to achieve for my own purposes rather than on the back of someone's coat tails."
Senior Tutor Benjamin Curtis smiled a little again. Cia felt a burn of excitement in her stomach. This was sounding good... Was she going to be offered a position at this school...? What kind of school was it...? Why was it so exclusive...? The Senior Tutor suddenly leaned forward a little more so that he could speak in a lower tone of voice.
"Miss Haydin. I'm about to tell you something that you must never repeat. Not even to your parents or family. If you do not wish to have anything to do with me or the Academy I represent after this, I will force you to forget this conversation..." Before Cia could say or do anything in response to this he began to speak quickly and quietly. Cia leant in so that she could hear. "Deveraux Academy, on the outside, is a school for the gifted. In a way this is true. However, what we are actually teaching our students is out of the ordinary. Deveraux Academy is where the secret agents and spies of this country are trained; the best of the best. Twenty-four students are hand picked, selected for their unique skills and placed into four teams where they learn to work together. Subjects include the normal academics such as English and Mathematics but also foreign languages from around the world, physical training, weapons instruction and criminal psychology. It's a grueling and difficult work program where you will have little time to yourself. You don't return home except voluntarily in the Christmas and forcefully in the summer. Everything you do and learn in the Academy is of the utmost secret and failure to meet the requirements and restrictions in the establishment means the removal of any memories you made there and expulsion. You train for three years and then work for the government. Do you understand everything I'm telling you?"
Cia was so dumbstruck she could only nod. She had been hanging on his every word, unconsciously leaning further forward, across the table, toward him.
"We would like to offer you a position at Deveraux Academy Miss Haydin."
Cia couldn't stop the grin slowly forming across her face. She was nearly shaking with excitement. This was it. This was what she wanted. A way out from her parents. A job with adrenaline, danger, and purpose. Training and lessons 24/7- she loved to learn- and the best facilities the government could afford she would guess. A team, a group of people she could get to know that would be like her- serious. She would love it. She could already feel that. She would absolutely love it.
She stared at the Senior Tutor's face, trying to see whether he was joking with her or not, while he gazed into hers as if to assess her reaction. She grinned at him and his mouth twitched into a slight smile before all expression was lost from his features. She was slightly surprised and then realized that this man must also be a trained spy or agent. That he could change his expression at will, faking people out. She felt a nervous thrill down her spine at the idea that she could be able to do that one day.
"This is a serious commitment Miss Haydin and you must be prepared to take the job on for at least three years after graduation. After that you can do what you want. Don't accept this offer without much thought. A letter will soon be delivered to your home of residence under the pretense of our school for the gifted. Remember what it really is if and when you send your confirmation." Cia watched as the Senior Tutor stood up from the table and moved to leave. "I look forward to receiving your reply Miss Haydin." He murmured politely and then left. Cia was left at the table wondering exactly what in hell had just happened.
Two weeks later...
Cia sat on her bed, staring around the slightly baron looking room. All of her personal amenities were missing, along with a large amount of her clothes, cds, and shoes. Her make-up, ipod, and wash stuff such as toothbrush were all sitting in a small pile in the middle of her desk ready to be packed when the time came. Those were what she was going to have to live with for the next few days before she was on her way. The rest of her stuff; the things that were missing were all stuffed into a large roller suitcase and sports carry-all. She was ready.
Maybe she had started packing a little early but she was so excited she couldn't help it. She had been unable to sleep recently as well as nerves had kicked in a little. What if she didn't get on with the teachers? What if this "team" she was to be a member of didn't like her or thought her weird or up-herself because of her background? She knew that she would be able to cope with the work load. One of Cia's strengths was her purposefulness. When she had work to do, for instance, she did it. She didn't procrastinate or hang back. If something needed doing, it had to be done. She was good at that. So a busy timetable and loads of lessons was something she relished the challenge of, instead of worried about. No. It was specifically the human aspect of what she was going to approach that caused her to remain awake in the late hours of the night. But she was determined to make it work.
She had managed to tell her parents she was going anyway. They hadn't much liked it at first until she had explained that it was a school for the gifted and had a limited entry number. After that they adored the idea, telling everyone and everything that would listen that their daughter was going to a prestigious university. Cia had rolled her eyes and sighed but counted her lucky stars that she was allowed to go. Sitting on her bed beside the huge suitcase that leant against it Cia's fists tightened. She had to be allowed to go. She wasn't going to let them take this away from them. She need this university place. This Deveraux Academy. She could feel in her bones that this was what she was meant for. To be a secret agent.
She had never had much thought of what she would do in her life. Only that she loved to work hard and feel achievement in all senses. Using physical and academic skill to achieve in missions for her country, while experiencing adrenaline and danger didn't seem to have any equal to Cia. It sounded like the best job in the world. And she was hungry for it. She wanted to prove herself. She couldn't wait.
Standing up, Cia checked the room once more for anything that she needed. Finding nothing and picked up her ipod, placed it in her pocket and the phones in her ears and selected an old rock song. Looking in the mirror at her own determined facial expression she turned to a piece of paper she had attached to the back of her door and crossed off another day. It counted down to the first day students were allowed to move in. The letter had advised that they move in toward the end of the period but she wasn't going to. She had no family that she would miss as she was on her own so often. She was looking forward to being part of a team rather than fearing the separation with her folks.
Cia felt her nails dig into the palms of her hands as she smiled grimly, a look of pure desire in her eyes.
"Bring it on."[/font]
Cia ground her teeth. She hated that nickname. Miss Haydin, daughter of the high-profile politician Hillary Haydin bent low to fasten her trainers. They were fat and bulky; skater sneakers, but they worked with the performance theme. Sitting on the hard bench, Cia didn't look at her co-dancer as she spoke.
"I'm fine Laurie, I only twisted it yesterday; nothing's broken or sprained." She looked up a little, her dark hair falling softly to frame her face. Her fingers were still routinely tying her laces. She smiled a little and then turned her attention back to her feet. The girl standing beside her, with long blond hair pulled into a braid was typical of teenagers in Uptown. Her skin was flawless from the money spent on cosmetics and her teeth perfectly even. Her hair was in glossy condition and probably the pride of her appearance when it hung loose in a shiny curtain down her back. Cia couldn't understand girls' liking for long tendrils; they just bugged her. Her own mop of naturally straight hair cut short about an inch off of her chin.
"You should be more careful on the stairs." Was Laurie's reply. Cia just gave a tight smile. There wasn't any way she could tell the girl that she hadn't actually fallen down the stairs. That had been a cover story. Instead, she had had an argument with her father, as was usual on a Friday afternoon and slammed the front door on her way out. She'd pulled her wrist in the force she had exerted on the handle. Damnit. She had closed that door with a loud bang every day she'd had a dance practice and yet it was the day before the concert performance that it caused her an injury. Just her luck. Somehow it seemed as if that house gave her more trouble than it was worth. She hated it.
But it wasn't exactly as if she could move out. What would the press and papers say? Mrs Haydin, major player in the local government, can't control her own daughter. Row ensued at their place of residence as young Miss Haydin left in a storming fury... Great. She'd never hear the end of it. She hated being in that house but she hated the idea of causing a media scandal even more. She only ever associated with people from Uptown and would never see the end of the whispers and looks. Not to mention that she'd damage her mother's career. She might not like the woman but she wasn't about to maliciously set out to harm the one thing Hillary Haydin cherished. Yeah... definitely the thing she most cherished. Cia didn't think she even made it into the top ten. But then she tended to prefer it that way so who was she to complain? At least the distance from her mother meant that she could live a relatively independent life without worry. It would have been really annoying if her mother was still trying to convert her into a mini-politician. Cia was lucky that the woman had realized that she was a lost cause and given up.
Finishing with her laces Cia uncurled her lean frame from where she had been sitting on the wooden bench and stood at her full 5 foot 7. She wasn't the tallest person around but she was tall enough. She shook her feet out a little to loosen up her legs the large khaki pants she was wearing shaking about. They cut off just below her knee similar to surfer shorts, leaving her shapely calves on display. Her top half was clad in a simple white, fitted, vest top. On her wrists were sweat bands and a fake tattoo was transfered onto one bicep. Her make-up was a little excessive so that the audience could see her expression. Looking around her, everyone else was dressed in a similar fashion. Dropping her gaze to the bench she had just vacated Cia stooped and picked up the large gangster-style baseball hat and pulled it on, slightly off-center. Around her neck hung a slim silver chain.
Cia moved toward one of the large mirrors lining the back wall and stood before one analyzing her appearance and costume. She didn't usually wear these kinda of clothes but she was performing a street-come-break dance on stage in the next half hour and she had to be dressed for the part. Laurie came up behind her.
"That style suits you so much better than me Anna. I can't understand why they made us dress this way; it's utterly awful." Cia resisted rolling her eyes. It was true that her black hair and pale skin gave her a tougher and rougher appearance than the other girls in the changing rooms. Many of them were also giving their attire a reproachful glare. They hadn't signed up for this performance. Instead they had joined the dance group for pilates and ballet. Cia had enjoyed the formal dance just as much as they had but she was the only one who had managed to hold onto her joy when the regime moved onto street dancing. She, in fact, loved this style more than ballet. She felt that you were a lot freer to express yourself with something that didn't have so many techniques and appropriate rules of movement.
Cia didn't really bother to give Laurie an answer but that was okay. The girl didn't really need one. They had all learned that Cia was quite quiet and never said anything unless she had something profound to communicate. The truth was she just didn't enjoy engaging in idle gossip like this girls did. She just didn't fit in with the heiress cliche. Instead she had a wilder and more creative spirit from her aunt that she harbored, fed, and fueled as much as possible. She believed it was what made her different, and reveled in it. She was proud of her reckless psyche. That didn't stop her from knowing, however, that it was inappropriate in certain circles, such as these. She knew when not to cross the line.
A yell called over the heads of the girls milling around Cia, and Cia's spine straightened a little.
"Alright girls! You know what you're doing! Cia I want you up front on the right; you know when to move to the center. Aim for about a metre from the right edge of the stage!"
Cia nodded. "Yes Ma'am!"
Her teacher, Madam Jenson, then moved on to instruct the others in exactly the position they would be standing in regards to the stage they were performing on. Cia shook out her hands a little and blew a breath out between tight lips. She felt, as usual, all her anxiety leave her as she strode forward through the crowd and out onto the stage. She couldn't see anything of the audience as they were separated from the dancers by a deep red curtain. Placing herself in the right position Cia listened to the hubb-bubb and general chatter seeping through the thick velvet toward her. The hall they were performing in was famous for it's performances by the talented young. Many talent scouts and company officials visited certain performances that could hold teenagers they look for. It was the dream of many a young girl to perform on that stage and be chosen. It was a one-in-a-million chance but they still dreamed. Cia didn't bother. She wasn't really sure where her life was going or what she was going to do with it but she did know that she danced simply because the physical exertion of it made her feel good; alive. It made her feel... dirty. It was like her entire existence had been clean and perfect. Money, nice clothes, etc. When she danced she became hot, sweaty and it made her feel tougher and stronger. She put her all into every performance so that she could feel pleased with her effort.
Shaking out her hands and feet again, Cia looked down at the large trainers she wore and tried to block out the noise from the crowds. She needed to focus solely on the music and her co-dancers if she was going to make a success of the performance. She knew, anyway that there was no-one in the audience to watch her but she didn't care. She wasn't going to let her lack of parental support stop her from feeling strong.
Cia turned her head and watched as the other girls, and some boys, moved out onto the stage into their positions. Laurie had the central position for this one but Cia knew that it wouldn't be for long. All three of them; Cia, Laurie and another girl Hydi would be getting the front spotlight, but Cia had the harder routine to pull off in it. Hers involved actual break dancing. That's why she was the only one wearing a hat- it was easier when your hair wasn't in the way. Now, the black strands were forced to remain down by her face, rather than fly about at the speed of her movements.
"Start positions" Called a voice and Cia bent into the correct pose. She started in a crouched position, one leg extended straight. One hand was on the ground fingers splayed while the other shot up behind her. Her face was pointed forward. She was ready.
Cia heard the microphone on the other side of the curtain be tapped and waited patiently, her muscles tensing, ready to hold the position until the third beat of the music. A calm, male voice introduced them as a dance company group and the music began. Hard, thumping beats resonated out of speakers and the curtains moved back, momentarily blinding Cia as the main lights shone down on them. Then, as her que came through the music Cia began to move.
The dance was complex in how it was routined but not in it's choreography. The moves weren't difficult to perform but there were so many that it took great concentration and memory to retain the routine in the mind. Cia's moves were sharp and focused. Each punch to the air felt like she was physically hitting something. Something that had been holding her back. It felt like achievement. In her own solo part the break dancing went well. Her stand on her hands, her legs in a running pose raised an applause and she was lucky that her hat trick didn't fail. She had been the one to take the main floor during the last chorus of the performance and she made sure that every action she made expressed her effort and determination. Grace was difficult in ballet but effort and force was necessary to fuel street-moves. And she had unplumbed depths of the stuff.
By the time the performance was over a bead of sweat was rolling down the sharp tendon of her neck and she felt moisture between her shoulder blades. Taking a pre-offered towel from her teacher she noted that she was probably the most worn-out looking. She had been the only one to give it her all, she was sure.
About half an hour later dinner was served to the audience and the performance in a hall off from the main one. Tables and chairs were set out so that the dancers could mingle with their parents and be congratulated and rewarded with all the things rich people chose to reward their children with; new cars for example.
Cia decidedly sat on her own. Eating her burger and salad Cia was just taking a mouthful of water when an older gentlemen took the seat in front of her, on the other side of the table. He rested his elbows on the surface, his head on his hands, and faced her.
"Would you be Miss Haydin?" He asked carefully.
She looked up, a little surprised and smiled politely.
"That, be me." She stated, tilting her head a little in inquiry. The man smiled confidently and nodded to her, holding out a hand.
"My name is Senior Tutor Benjamin Curtis Miss Haydin. I would like to speak to you about a proposal."
Cia's eyes raised a little and she picked up the napkin; material rather than tissue paper of course and wiped the slight grease from her fingertips. She was still dressed in her dance outfit, minus the hat that now sat beside her food tray. The tray itself was scattered with an empty bag that had contained a mix of salad and a half eaten burger. Her water bottle was three-quarters empty. Her eyes were a little brighter than normal as they fastened on the guy before her. She was always interested in new paths in life and new challenges. What was this guy going to offer her?
"Senior Tutor? Senior Tutor of what?" She hadn't forgotten his small mention of his job title. Was he a teacher of some kind?
The man smiled and let his hands fall to the table where they held together non-challantly as he spoke; "I work for a university that I think you might enjoy attending." He stated simply. "Our establishment invites only the best of the USA population to attend. We take on about twenty four students a year." Cia frowned a little. That was an awfully low number. What had she done to merit an invitation? Suddenly her frown deepened and turned darker.
"Sir, if you are here to offer me a place at your school simply because of my parents; whether they've asked you or whatever I'd have to decline. I don't want to get anywhere in this world with their help; I want to do it myself." Cia snapped her mouth shut and looked down at the table intently, realizing that she sounded rather rude. She twisted her hands together and then reached out and took a bite of her burger to excuse herself from saying anything. Her attention on the table top indicated her bashfulness at her outburst. She snuck a look at her visitor, intent on seeing whether she had offended him but he was simply smiling slightly. Just a turn up at one corner of his mouth. He nodded a little.
"Very good. I commend that determination Miss Haydin, but no, I am not here with concerns to your parents but with concerns to you. The university I work for takes students on who gifted in one of more of the following; academic success, physical fitness, team co-ordination and camaraderie, and personal work ethic."[/b][/i] Cia's expression was clearing a little. Her mind was speeding forward, wondering what he was going to say about how she full-filled that criteria. "I come to these events at the Victorian Hall regularly to try and find students that may fit into the physical fitness area. Your abilities in all methods of dance -(I've been here many times)- is impressive, but I have also seen in you more than your peers a driving determination to succeed. Am I wrong Miss Haydin?"
Cia swallowed and shook her head enthusiastically. "No Sir. I am determined. Very much so. I like to be able to achieve for my own purposes rather than on the back of someone's coat tails."
Senior Tutor Benjamin Curtis smiled a little again. Cia felt a burn of excitement in her stomach. This was sounding good... Was she going to be offered a position at this school...? What kind of school was it...? Why was it so exclusive...? The Senior Tutor suddenly leaned forward a little more so that he could speak in a lower tone of voice.
"Miss Haydin. I'm about to tell you something that you must never repeat. Not even to your parents or family. If you do not wish to have anything to do with me or the Academy I represent after this, I will force you to forget this conversation..." Before Cia could say or do anything in response to this he began to speak quickly and quietly. Cia leant in so that she could hear. "Deveraux Academy, on the outside, is a school for the gifted. In a way this is true. However, what we are actually teaching our students is out of the ordinary. Deveraux Academy is where the secret agents and spies of this country are trained; the best of the best. Twenty-four students are hand picked, selected for their unique skills and placed into four teams where they learn to work together. Subjects include the normal academics such as English and Mathematics but also foreign languages from around the world, physical training, weapons instruction and criminal psychology. It's a grueling and difficult work program where you will have little time to yourself. You don't return home except voluntarily in the Christmas and forcefully in the summer. Everything you do and learn in the Academy is of the utmost secret and failure to meet the requirements and restrictions in the establishment means the removal of any memories you made there and expulsion. You train for three years and then work for the government. Do you understand everything I'm telling you?"
Cia was so dumbstruck she could only nod. She had been hanging on his every word, unconsciously leaning further forward, across the table, toward him.
"We would like to offer you a position at Deveraux Academy Miss Haydin."
Cia couldn't stop the grin slowly forming across her face. She was nearly shaking with excitement. This was it. This was what she wanted. A way out from her parents. A job with adrenaline, danger, and purpose. Training and lessons 24/7- she loved to learn- and the best facilities the government could afford she would guess. A team, a group of people she could get to know that would be like her- serious. She would love it. She could already feel that. She would absolutely love it.
She stared at the Senior Tutor's face, trying to see whether he was joking with her or not, while he gazed into hers as if to assess her reaction. She grinned at him and his mouth twitched into a slight smile before all expression was lost from his features. She was slightly surprised and then realized that this man must also be a trained spy or agent. That he could change his expression at will, faking people out. She felt a nervous thrill down her spine at the idea that she could be able to do that one day.
"This is a serious commitment Miss Haydin and you must be prepared to take the job on for at least three years after graduation. After that you can do what you want. Don't accept this offer without much thought. A letter will soon be delivered to your home of residence under the pretense of our school for the gifted. Remember what it really is if and when you send your confirmation." Cia watched as the Senior Tutor stood up from the table and moved to leave. "I look forward to receiving your reply Miss Haydin." He murmured politely and then left. Cia was left at the table wondering exactly what in hell had just happened.
Two weeks later...
Cia sat on her bed, staring around the slightly baron looking room. All of her personal amenities were missing, along with a large amount of her clothes, cds, and shoes. Her make-up, ipod, and wash stuff such as toothbrush were all sitting in a small pile in the middle of her desk ready to be packed when the time came. Those were what she was going to have to live with for the next few days before she was on her way. The rest of her stuff; the things that were missing were all stuffed into a large roller suitcase and sports carry-all. She was ready.
Maybe she had started packing a little early but she was so excited she couldn't help it. She had been unable to sleep recently as well as nerves had kicked in a little. What if she didn't get on with the teachers? What if this "team" she was to be a member of didn't like her or thought her weird or up-herself because of her background? She knew that she would be able to cope with the work load. One of Cia's strengths was her purposefulness. When she had work to do, for instance, she did it. She didn't procrastinate or hang back. If something needed doing, it had to be done. She was good at that. So a busy timetable and loads of lessons was something she relished the challenge of, instead of worried about. No. It was specifically the human aspect of what she was going to approach that caused her to remain awake in the late hours of the night. But she was determined to make it work.
She had managed to tell her parents she was going anyway. They hadn't much liked it at first until she had explained that it was a school for the gifted and had a limited entry number. After that they adored the idea, telling everyone and everything that would listen that their daughter was going to a prestigious university. Cia had rolled her eyes and sighed but counted her lucky stars that she was allowed to go. Sitting on her bed beside the huge suitcase that leant against it Cia's fists tightened. She had to be allowed to go. She wasn't going to let them take this away from them. She need this university place. This Deveraux Academy. She could feel in her bones that this was what she was meant for. To be a secret agent.
She had never had much thought of what she would do in her life. Only that she loved to work hard and feel achievement in all senses. Using physical and academic skill to achieve in missions for her country, while experiencing adrenaline and danger didn't seem to have any equal to Cia. It sounded like the best job in the world. And she was hungry for it. She wanted to prove herself. She couldn't wait.
Standing up, Cia checked the room once more for anything that she needed. Finding nothing and picked up her ipod, placed it in her pocket and the phones in her ears and selected an old rock song. Looking in the mirror at her own determined facial expression she turned to a piece of paper she had attached to the back of her door and crossed off another day. It counted down to the first day students were allowed to move in. The letter had advised that they move in toward the end of the period but she wasn't going to. She had no family that she would miss as she was on her own so often. She was looking forward to being part of a team rather than fearing the separation with her folks.
Cia felt her nails dig into the palms of her hands as she smiled grimly, a look of pure desire in her eyes.
"Bring it on."[/font]
