After Owen left, James, Adira and I went upstairs to the dorms to show Adira which one was hers and introduce her to the boys who she'd be sharing it with. The dorms were all off the same hallway, and had space for twelve boys in each, but the room Adira had been assigned currently only had five boys living in it.

"I'm gonna wait out here," James said, eyeing the door of the room once we reached it.

"Why?" I asked.

James folded his arms and leaned his back against the opposite wall of the door as if to seal his decision. "Because," he said, "Sam Harding is gonna get a black eye if I do."

"I don't really see a problem with that," I said.

"Who's Sam Harding?" Adira asked.

"An asshole," I replied. "He's got four toes on his right foot thanks to Harrison, and is partly deaf in one ear because of me so I'd say we've done our damage to his racist, sexist, homophobic ass, but the dude still has serious social problems and a dangerously high superiority complex."

Adira blinked.

"Story is that he ran away from a rich-ass family in Alabama," James continued. "That might have something to do with it. I'm from the south too, but come on --it's Alabama."

Adira glared at me. "And you put me in a room with him? What the hell?"

"It has the least amount of boys in it!" I defended myself. "Isn't five better than eleven?

"Still," she growled.

"Did you think you'd be rooming with me?" I teased.

"Oh I was dreaming," she sneered at me.

"Jesus, is this all you've been doing in the basement?" James looked back and forth at us. "Borderline flirting?"

"I will spit on you carrot, don't test me," Adira snapped.

"Let's just go inside," I pointed to the door, "and you can hurt him later."

Adira hesitated. I was so used to seeing her in low light that I felt like she was shining now that we were upstairs.

"Come on," I said, "I'm not giving up on you."

Her blonde hair fell more into her face as she turned to give me a look. "Fuck it, yeah, let's go."

Each dorm room had six bunk beds, 12 single beds in total. In every room three were pushed end-to-end on the left wall and the other three in the same position against the right wall, and every bed was made up in black bed sheets and white pillows. The walls were white, and the short grey carpeting was the same as it was out in the hallway. Also in every room was a large window fitted into the far back wall, facing north to the city of Denver, which the agency sat about two miles south of. On clear days you could see the tips of the buildings in full color, but this morning wisps of mist had nestled low in between the urban settlement. But additionally unfortunate for the inhabitants of this particular dorm, an imprudently positioned oak tree was osculating in the wind directly in front of the supposed view. It's thick branches left cracks in the meak sunlight that was pooling on the carpet in front of us. Adira did her alluring slight head tilt again at the glimpse of freedom the window offered, sunlight reflected in her eyes and dying them lighter.

All five boys groaned loudly and turned over in their beds as soon as we opened the door and disturbed their last few minutes of precious sleep before morning training began. In the mornings, half the boys did combat training and the other half did lessons in the briefing rooms on the third floor, then after lunch we switched. Areas of skill were separated into "levels," level 10 being Director Flagg. Once agents reached level 7 they could be assigned missions, and those few who went to level 9 taught lessons and combat, or went on international missions for long periods of time, usually to do reconnaissance work.

"Hey guys," I said. Sam sat bolt upright as soon as he heard my voice. In the top bunk of the bed that was in the far right corner, the sliest grin spread across his face, like he was the fucking grinch or something. He swept his dirty blond hair out of his swampy green eyes and the grin continued to speed along his lips like wildfire.

Hunter Martin slept in the bottom bunk of the bed that was just to our right. He was 24 and was in my level 8 training group. He slowly sat up on his elbows, honey brown hair sticking out in all directions as he stared at Adira and then glared at me. His face, arms and chest were tanned by Australian sun and were peppered with brown freckles.

Flynn Davidson had similarly messy hair, but his slid over his forehead more and was dark brown and curly. He was the youngest agent in this dorm at 13 years, with a slightly rounded face and curious dark brown eyes that almost matched his skin tone. When he saw Adira he quickly ducked back under his covers, which were in the top bunk of the bed in the middle on the left.

Ricardo didn't budge from the bed in the far left corner when Adira and I came in. He was a level 6 and 17 years old. Everyone called him Ricki, and was from Chihuahua, Mexico.

Dòu rolled out of his bed and put his feet on the ground, in the bottom bunk of the bed in the middle on the right hand side. His dark hair was buzzed short about an inch from his scalp, and he held his head in his hands between his legs and groaned at the ungodly hour that it was. Dòu was a year older than Sam and I at 21 years old. He was a level 7 though, because he got here slightly later than what was usual for agents, around 15 years old.

Adira's pupils buzzed as they tried to look at all of the boys at once. I turned to address all the agents to get this introduction over and done with. I didn't want her to be engulfed in all this testosterone for longer than she had to.

But unfortunately at that moment Sam leapt over the side of his top bunk and landed neatly on the floor without a sound. Adira's eyes widened as he rose to his full height, and she took three steps backwards so her back hit the dorm room door with a muffled thump.

"Back up Harding," I warned.

"What? I'm just trying to sniff out the newbie." He clawed his hair out of his eyes again. Almost all of the agents kept their hair short, because it was just easier for training and working but Sam was one of the few who kept it just long enough that it fell in front of his eyes, and he could peer through the dirty blond strands like a tiger in a jungle.

"She's not a dog," I snarled back at him.

"And I suppose you're not her handler either then?" He mused, his lip turning up.

"Harding—"

"Why are you protecting her?" He said, scrunching up his face in disgust at me.

I glanced over my shoulder to Adira. She still had her back flat against the door. "Back. Up," I emphasized again to him, turning back around.

"And if I hear correctly," Sam continued, ignoring me, "That weird ass tech nerd with the weird knee is supposed to be 'watching' her?"

From my right I saw Hunter pick his head up at the mention of James' name. "Strider?"

I snuffed out a breath. "And?"

Sam shrugged. "No, I actually think that's a sensible idea, sending the fag in."

"Just shut the hell up Sam," Dòu spat from his bunk. He picked up his head and his eyes turned the same color as storm clouds. "It's too early for your bullshit so if you could, like, not?"

"She's so scared oh my god look at that she's practically trembling!" Sam said, pointing over my shoulder. Dòu rolled his eyes and flopped backwards back into his bed in defeat. I whirled my head around and saw that Adira's hands had started to twitch. She looked down at them and then back to me in embarrassment. "That's so cute," Sam cooed. His eyes turned dark. "Shaky hands don't quite get me off though. Did you put that in your report? How disappointing that is for the rest of us?" I tightened my fists. Sam glanced down at them. "Oh, did I hit a nerve?" He scoffed and turned his puke-colored irises back to Adira behind me. "You know you don't have to wear the long sleeved shirt doll," he called to her. "You don't have to wear anything if you don't want to." He winked at her.

Before I could counter Sam's putrid comments myself, Adira walked forward, shouldered me out of the way and punched Sam right in the bridge of his nose. She shoved him with both hands and his back hit the window, then he put her forearm across his throat and pulled my knife from her belt and placed the tip of it in his ear as a threat. Finally she pulled her knee up and pressed it between his legs so hard his eyes bulged.

"Listen here you sick son a bitch, I am not here to turn you on, and I am not here to please you," she spat. "Quit ogling me like a piece of meat, keep your hands to your motherfucking self, call me by my actual name, and get it into your tiny homophobic brain that I can handle myself, fuck you very much."

There was a long pause in which Sam's heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. Flynn took his covers off his head leaving his hair static-y, and covered his mouth with his hand when he saw the position Adira had Sam in.

"Can I have my knife back now?" I asked cautiously after a few moments.

Adira let out a breath in Sam's face and he flinched. She released him from her grip and turned to me. He dropped immediately to his knees and coughed, blood dripping from his nose and onto the carpet. She kneed him in the gut for good measure. "Sorry. I just needed to make a point." She handed it back to me.

"Well, I hope the point was received." I tried not to laugh at Sam.

"Either way," Adira shrugged. "Serves him right, the little bitch." She grinned.

I fingered the knife in my hands. It was small, the steel blade about four inches long, with a substantial leather handle. I'd had it for a few years now, tucked in my waistband for practice for if I ran an inside job on an assignment. She must have slipped it out on our way up from her old cell. She must have nimble fingers like me if she managed to get it out without me noticing. I pondered for a moment and then I handed it back to her. "Keep it," I said. "If it means you can do anything like that again," I looked at Sam, "seriously, keep it." She smiled a little before accepting the knife and expertly twirling it around her right hand.

"Thanks. For..." she raised a shoulder awkwardly, "everything."

"No problem."

It definitely hadn't been a problem at all. Getting to understand her had actually been kind of fun, and beneficial for the both of us. I was going to miss that. Flagg doesn't want me anywhere near her for a while, just while she settles in I guess. That job was being transferred to James since, God forbid, Adira and I start to "rely" on each other, or whatever professional term Flagg chalked it up to as an excuse to keep us apart for a while.

I hadn't told her I'd be leaving on a mission because I was scared how'd she react. Hopefully she wouldn't beat me up when I returned for not telling her and just vanishing. Adira's bright blue eyes squinted ever so slightly as her head turned sideways and she examined me while I thought. I did what I had done the past week while taking notes and pretended not to notice. It was just something she did.

"Anyway," Dùo said, getting all the way to his feet. He looked at me. "You gave her your knife how very sentimental, she thanked you ecetera ecetera, now I thinks it's time for," he cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows.

"He's right." I snapped out of reminiscing. I skirted her and grabbed the door handle, but before I left I said to her: "Don't let any of the boys get to you, okay? You've got a new life, a fresh start here. Own it." She smiled again and looked down at my knife. I felt myself smile too and then I turned the handle.