1 01 | What Do You Want?

"Demie, fléchir, demie, point, demie, fléchir, demie, point ... "

Madame Varech strides up and down the studio, studying the forms of the girls in the class. Our posture erect, heads up, backs straight, perfect middle splits, legs straight out to our sides, our feet moving through the positions. Demi, flex, demi, point, demi, flex, demi, point, a continuous cycle, a continuous stretch, a continuous flow of french.

"Dirigez-vous vers, Claudia!"

The girl on my left blushes in embarrassment and lifts her head, one of many to do so. My own head was starting to slip and with great effort I lift it back into position, the position that I had been holding for the past half hour.

"Magnifique, tout le monde regarde la forme de Samantha"

I feel the glares of the other girls upon me, the flush that spreads across my neck, the hairs prickling as if they too realised that the other girls were staring with venom in their eyes. Even after spending the majority of my life under the glares of those who wanted those complements, I still was not used to it.

"Avance les filles!"

The wack of Madame Varech's cane on the back of another girl's head causes many to flinch, however with great effort I manage to stop the movement and continue holding the position as if nothing ever happened. Again, and again that cane comes down upon the unsuspecting heads of girls who were hoping that, for the first time ever, Madame Varech didn't notice their flinches. I almost smirk at their stupidity but right at the last minute I remember those hawk eyes, the ones that see everything, the ones that notify their owner that a girl has done something she shouldn't have.

"Et détendre"

The sound of relieved groans sounds through the room as we all relax out of the position and stretch out our sore and tired muscles, I scowl in annoyance, knowing what is coming. The tiresome, repetitive, painful rises that Madame Varech is likely to give us for groaning.

3 ... 2 ... 1 ...

"Monte! Cent cinquante sur chaque jambe!"

At once everyone moves to the barres around the room without making a sound, being at the front of the barre I start the one hundred and fifty rises and out of the corner of my eye I can see the others following my lead without question. When we reach one hundred and seven Madame Varech calls out.

"Arrêtez! Vous pouvez remercier Sasha pour cela, redémarrez"

Many glares are cast towards Sasha while I mentally start counting all over again. We make it through the left leg without any more hiccups and I turn to start on the other side, but just before I do I remember that I have to follow the lead of the girl who was once at the back but is now at the front. I stifle the groan that was rising within me as I notice Charlotte at the front, the girl is notorious for going to fast causing the exercise to be repeated many times before Madame Varech finally lets us relax once more.

"Qu'attendez-vous pour Charlotte?"

She looks at Madame Varech, embarrassment plain on her face, her eyebrows knitting together as she tries to translate. With a sigh Madame Varech motions for me to come to the front, with my face wiped of any expression I walk to the front and take up my position. With a nod from the madame I begin rising, barely five rises in Madame Varech calls for us to stop.

"Sortez!"

She snaps in Charlotte's face and points to the door. Charlotte takes the hint and rushes out of the studio, tears already pouring down her face. She won't go very far here, the headmaster is likely to kick her out onto the streets because she can't seem to pick anything up, not that she was ever the brightest girl around. With a sigh Madame Varech turns to us.

"One hundred and fifty, then you may leave at your leisure"

We all stare at her retreating form in shock as she walks out of the studio, never, not once, have I ever heard the madame speak in English, not once has she ever let us leave at our leisure, not once has she left during a class period. Some of the girls have their mouths hanging open, before reality sinks in and they turn to the girls around them, talking quickly, arms moving dramatically. With a sigh I turn around and do my rises. Most of these girls will leave the room without doing their rises and will pay the price tomorrow when they must do an extended class for we are always being watched, always.

...

When I finally finish my rises there is almost no one left in the room apart from a few girls who have been here long enough to know the ways and workings of the school. As soon as I leave the room the bell goes for the end of the period. I relax, knowing that I did my required amount of time to not get in trouble. Swarms of people walk out into the halls, all of them tense and many walk with their heads down, not talking. This isn't the place to be sociable, that is what the dorm rooms are for and even then they are not always the best places to talk, anyone can overhear what you say.

I make my way upstairs to the fourth flour where the smaller rooms are. I have a room to myself unlike most who must share with others, being the world's best assassin has it's advantages as does starting from a young age and never taking classes with those my own age. Most others share a room with four people or they live in one of the mass dormitories that sleep sixteen people, bad places seeing as nothing is ever yours and living in a room with fifteen other assassins in training isn't always the best when you make someone annoyed or angry.

My room, once upon a time, slept four people but over the years I have slowly turned it into my own. A double bed with a midnight blue doona and sheets, white frame and white pillows stands against a side wall that is painted midnight blue, a picture of the Eiffel Tower at night graces the wall on a canvas, directly above the headboard. All the other walls are white, as is the carpet. A small white lounge sits in the corner along the far wall, decorated with a single midnight blue pillow, double glass doors lead out onto the balcony on the same wall. A white door on the opposite side of the room leads to my walk in closet which I transformed half of it into a office that houses a plain desk, laptop, class work and some of my only personal possessions. A picture of my parents, framed in a glass frame, and a picture of my best friend in another glass frame sit on an empty shelf that might have housed clothing or shoes but lets face it, I don't have enough of either to even fill half of what is left of my closet. Another door leads to my bathroom which is lucky enough to have a window, unlike most. Have I said that I'm the best assassin here? Well I am, and this just proves it.

When I walk into my room I slouch on the lounge before remembering to take of my shoes that I hadn't taken off before leaving the studio. When I remove the shoes I give a sigh of relief, my ankles, feet and toes send thankful messages to my brain for setting them free. Looking at the clock on my bedside table I see that I have thirty minutes before I had to go to dinner. With an inner sigh I stand back up and make my way through my closet to the bathroom at which I promptly turn the bath taps on, strip and step into the cool water not minding the temperature in the least.

...

When I estimate fifteen minutes have past I slowly pull myself up and wrap my towel around my body before stepping into my closet, leaving the water for the time being. I walk up to a drawer and pull out one of my usual shirts and then a pair of blue denim jeans. I pull them on, and then my boots before making sure that all my weapons were secure and hidden, knifes under my sleeves dipped in poison, knifes in my boots, back pockets, and a stiletto, hidden within my hair, a glossy raven black and dead straight, nothing makes it curl up, nothing. I pull it up in a braid that I coil around my head. Satisfied that I was ready I grabbed the small dagger that I was permitted to wear on display and hook it to the belt loops on my jeans before walking out of the closet and then out of the door into the hallway that was starting to get crowded again.

I didn't bother locking my door, it wasn't like anyone was going to break into it. I start walking down the hall and as I do everyone else moves out of the way as I walk past, same as they have been doing since I beat the arms master four years ago. I continue, ignoring the stares and whispers, walking down three flights of stairs and along a wide hallway before stopping at the doors to the great hall. There are some things you need to understand about this school that I attend before I walk into the great hall; firstly, as you have probably guessed, it is a school for assassins and spies; secondly, it is a co-education school, both males and females attend; and thirdly, the headmaster is my grandfather, one of the best in his day.

Taking a deep breath; not because I am nervous but because I really don't want to walk into the hall; I push open one of the heavy doors and walk in. I am late. Most would take the small side doors when they are late to attract less attention to themselves, I however, take the big doors, making an entrance as per usual. Once I enter the room everything goes silent, everyone stops talking, moving, maybe even breathing, everything just stops as if time freezes. With an exaggerated roll of my eyes I walk down the centre aisle towards the serving buffet and serve myself some food, when I look back up and around the room, it is still the same, everything is still paused. Just like every other time.

I scowl at the ones who are staring and they abruptly turn away, jolting the others out of their silence; they all end up talking amongst themselves. I make my way over to my table the one only I and a select few sit at. I am just about to dig into my food when the hall goes silent again, without even looking up I continue to eat, my cutlery noises the only noise in the room other then the sound of boots on the floor. After a few seconds I can hear the sound of the buffet tongs being used and then once again the sound of boots on the floor, seconds later three pairs of boots appear in field of vision. Almost in simultaneously three plates are placed on the table and three people take a seat. I look up into the green eyes of a boy with raven black hair, then turn to look at the blonde girl with ocean blue eyes, and last but not least the other boy, if I can even call him that, the one with purple eyes and recently died red hair. My expression instantly changes back into a comfortable scowl, I sit back in my seat and cross my arms over my chest.

"Samantha, right?"

While the hall had gained back some of its noise it instantly died back again and everyone whipped their heads around to stare. I glare at the closest table and they all turn around, the other tables following suit, and once again conversation starts back up.

"What about it?"

The girl shakes her head, her blonde hair bouncing, a smirk upon her face, the green eyed boy shares the same expression yet the purple eyed 'boy' has a distant expression of boredom.

"The name's Tayor,"

She points to the green eyed boy.

"That idiot is Christopher"

She flicks her thumb in the other direction, towards the purple eyed boy.

"And that is Damion"

I rolled my eyes before picking up my fork and continuing to eat, doing my best to ignore the people across from me who take my silence as an invitation to eat. When I finish my food I put my fork on my plate and look over at the three strangers.

"What do you want?"

Tayor smirks again, before flicking her eyes around her and leaning in, as if she was going to spill a secret. she reaches up her hand to flick my nose but just before she can I move and her hand is in my grip. She looks at me in shock, both boys look at me in shock and are half out of their seats. Once again the hall goes silent as everyone sucks in a breath in anticipation.

"DO. NOT. TOUCH. ME. AGAIN!"

I wasn't speaking any louder then a whisper but it was enough, and she heard it, her face going slightly pale before her smirk slides back into place. After a moment I let go and get comfortable again, a glare now settles upon her and her companions. The green eyed boy has the smarts to look down but the other guy, the other guy, no he just stares straight back at me, defying everything that I built, every single layer that I built to separate me from everyone else. A sense of respect sits in the back of my brain but I ignore it, instead I break the stare and turn back to Tayor.

"What do you want?"

"Now that I can tell you."

I stiffen at the voice, as do the three people in front of me, all of them trying to look anywhere but at the person behind me. I place a casual smirk on my face and turn around.

"Hello, Uncle"