This is me hitting the text button, but I will copy and paste what I have so far. Chapter 1
Ashley sauntered in as she does every day. Flicking the edge of her folder knowing confidently that she had over prepared for the Science test, she shot Joshi a smug grin. She would outscore him ...AGAIN. It wasn’t even a sport at this point. Being a genius came too easy for her. The courses she was taking at night made her confidence soar to levels beyond your average twelve year old.
Disarming bombs was her new talent. She even knew just the amount of C4 to plant below Joshi’s seat that would wake him up from his sleepy slumber. Joshi didn’t have a care in the world. In fact, he found a partially eaten cheetoh in his navel and realized it was quite tasty after several days.
“Hmph,” Ashley thought, “maybe I should light up the cheetoh rather than that poor sap.”
Glancing her way, Joshi simply didn’t know that his life was hanging in the balance. He thoroughly enjoyed being at school, and was completely unaware of his classmate’s special talents.
DING!! DING!!! The bell rang out.
“Get your Grammar books out,” roared Ms. Fraction. “Your lives depends on it at this point. It’s second quarter. Even my chihuahuas know the expectations of this classroom by now.”
“Uh, Ms. Fraction? I have a question,” Scott announced.
“I know you have a question because you’re standing right here,” sighed Ms. Fraction. Scott proceeded to grab his face in frustration, knowing this announcement clearly irritated the most brilliant and lovely teacher on the planet.
Ashley shook her head at the thoughtlessness of her peers. Calculating whether or not she should apply for a job with the CIA, her mind wandered back to the previous evening’s training. Hoping Emily wouldn’t blow her cover, she winked. Emily was neck in neck with Ashley’s training. Together with Mickie, they were the secret trifecta. Nobody knew of their dark ninja powers and superhuman training that filled their nights and weekends. The teacher seemed to drone on and on about predicate nouns, predicate adjectives and countless other topics that meant nothing in their lives. Emily could easily cut through their jugulars while they slept.
Off in the distance, a chipmunk rang out. No, it’s just Braeden. Braeden was kicked out of the CIA for blowing up the director’s 2018 Porsche. Mr. Walsh wasn’t in it, so Braeden figured he was doing him a favor. What kind of man drives a car anyways. Braeden was good at C4, He knew just when it would cause a small blast to right when the flames would linger and give him away. His mother couldn’t figure out why she had to buy new garbage cans each week. Sometimes they would explode at the curb, and sometimes the whole Alaska Waste Management truck would be on flames - yet nobody suspected that this was Braeden’s playground. That unassuming smile and quick chuckle would get him out of any bind.