"Sabina Rogers!"
Nothing.
"Sabina!"
She jumped. Sabina's hand fell limply on the desk. She had been resting her head on her curled fist, gazing out the window with her bright blue eyes.
"Please - what is 'x'?" scowled the teacher, Mrs Matthews.
Sabina scanned the board, taking in the problem.
"'X' equals sixty," said Sabina quietly.
"Correct," said the teacher, slightly disappointed that Sabina was actually good at math. The girl who loved rude jokes didn't seem the type to be smart, though she looked it in her button-down Oxford (though none of the buttons were actually buttoned) and light blue shirt underneath. Her feet were asleep in the white Converses and her jeans hugged her body perfectly.
As she settled her head back on her arm, she noticed quite a few of her male classmates gazing at her. She shook her head slightly, annoyed that she was hundreds of miles away from Alex.
It was only her first month of school, yet she seemed popular enough.
Sabina was annoyed: the FBI and M16 of England had both suggested the Pleasure family went into the SPA - Secret Protection Agency - after the horrific attack on them in the South of France, which resulted in the near-death of Mr Pleasure.
So now, Sabina was no longer a Pleasure in the eyes of America, but a Rogers. She shuddered at the name, and her eyes glazed over slightly as she wondered what Alex was doing...