-6 months earlier- "My name is Tesserea Wulson. It is 2:30 am. My location is 1576 Longview Ave. Ambridge, Pennsylvania. I am outside The Target's home. He has company for the fifth night in a row. Grey pickup, muddy. Two men and a small child. All brown haired. Both men about six foot. The boy looks about three. I plan on cont-" -July 16th meeting one- I sit in a room with sixteen other teenage boys. The walls seem to close in. The heat in stifling even in my casual shorts and t-shirt. A short, round man with balding hair coughs. All small talk stops and tension fills the room. On the screen behind him is the projected image of a girl. She's stunning, long black hair, tan skin, and hazel eyes. Her smirk is mocking. Like she knows something no one else does. "I bet she does," I think to myself as a crackling recording starts. The voice is hushed but has a certain tone to it,"My name is Tesserea Wulson. It is 2:30 am. My location is 1576 Longview Ave. Ambridge, Pennsylvania. I am outside The Target's home. He has company for the fifth night in a row. Grey pickup, muddy. Two men and a small child. All brown haired. Both men about six foot. The boy looks about three. I plan on cont-" The crackling stops and I realize I'm sitting on the edge of my seat. The voice, the face, that coy grin. It's so familiar but I can't place it. The portly man begins to speak, not bothering to introduce himself. We all know who he is, Mr. Brikkski, head of missing persons. And the biggest case ever just landed in his lap. "The footage was cut off. And all traces of Tesserea Wulson were lost. Someone on the inside helped. All files of the finest assassin the CIA has ever seen left. And we need to find her," he pauses, looking at sixteen teenage boys that are trained killers. (should I continue?)
"Three of you will be part of an elite team to find Tesserea and bring her back. No questions asked. This mission will test your mental state and physical abilities. If you can't do this leave now," he finishes. All sixteen of us stare at each other with intensity that screams leave while you can, cuz I'm not. Mr. Brikkski gives us a minute for our stare off while two burly men hook up a video cam. -The View of Tesserea Wulson- I knock on my adoptive parents' bedroom door. "Jamie? Can I come in," I ask, two outfits in my arms. "Sure honey," she answers. I push open the door and lay the clothes on the bed, black leggings and a lacy dress and a nondescript cookie monster shirt with a skirt. "What should I wear," I ask brushing my long hair back behind my ear. This is hard, being a "normal" teenager, I think to myself. "The dress. It's picture day isn't it?" "You're right it is," I gather up the clothes and race back to my room,"Thank you!" I dress quickly and pull my hair into a braid over one shoulder. A screeching sound signals the arrival of my bus. I rush out the door, grabbing my bag on the way out. I walk onto the bus, smiling at the bus driver. "Good morning," I say cheerfully. I slide into my usual seat with a girl named Brena. (sorry Tesserea's part will be a bit dull for awhile)
-8:30 PM Tesserea- My feet hang off the edge of my bed as I giggle, what I hope is a convincing giggle, at another one of Brett's pickup lines. Brett is everyones' (but mine) definition of smoking with a side of sexy. His grey eyes watch me as I shake my hair back. "Your so pretty," he sighs as I feel my face blushing. "Thanks," I giggle again, this time not fake. "You wanna go for a swim at the lake tonight," Brett asks with his oh-so sly grin. I nod and I hear my "mom's" footsteps on the hardwood. "Gotta go," I smile and blow a kiss as I exit out of the Skype tab and pull up my Calculus. I pretend to be struggling with a problem when Jamie walks in. "Need help," she asks softly. I turn around and smile. "No I think I got it." She smiles back and sits down on my purple comforter next to me. I have a feeling a mother-daughter moment is coming, I think to myself, still "diligently working" on problem nineteen.