eleven ◌ flirting with the enemy

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Waking up to Niall's soft snores was admittedly, a sweet concept. It was peaceful as I stared at the tiny, floating pieces of dust within the sun rays that snaked its way through the slats of the white blinds. The bedroom flooded with a welcoming, golden glow, while the bed I lay in, was incredibly comfortable.

It was best to rotate our living arrangements while galavanting around Los Angeles. The previous evening we invaded Liam's classy bachelor pad, and in the very early morning hours after successfully completing the first assignment, the four of us stumbled into Niall's West Hollywood apartment. I didn't see much of it when I first walked through the door, too tired to pay attention to his decor. I did however, tumble onto the hardwood floor after tripping on an X-Box controller. Like Liam, Niall offered me his bed, but unlike the tattooed hard-ass, Niall wouldn't give up his space completely. He chucked a body pillow in between the two of us and knocked out next to me.

So in that peaceful morning, Niall lay sprawled on his stomach next to me. His hair was a floppy mess atop his head and without hesitation, I reached across to softly run my fingers through his hair. In this darling moment, everything was serene, and I felt completely at ease. The  terrifying mission of the night prior, nor the daunting tasks that lied ahead, didn't exist.

Unfortunately I was not allowed to relish in those untroubled moments, because with an echoing thud, the bedroom door flung open. Upon instinct, I swiftly snatched the gun off to the side and pointed the weapon at our intruder.

"Put the fucking gun down and answer your damn phone," Harry stood at the door with a scowl varnished upon his face.

I launched a deadly glare towards Harry as I lowered the gun in my hand. I placed it back on the bedside table next to me before digging my hand into the backpack sprawled on the floor. The cellphone in my hand vibrated, the unknown number blinking across the screen. As I answered the call, Harry roughly shoved my legs off to the side and sat on the bed. After setting the computer on top of the covers, he brought the pair of headphones from his neck, to his ears.

Niall was still knocked out, of course.

"Good morning, Zayn," I answered with a sigh. It was becoming eerily comfortable holding a conversation with him.

"Same to you, Tasha," it sounded like he was smiling on the other end. "Congratulations on accomplishing your first task. To be frank, I thought you'd just steal the ship's keys, or dismantle the engine— not blow shit up."

"What can I say? I'm an overachiever," I mused.

"Quit flirting," Harry mouthed, his eyebrows narrowing with vexation. I threw a middle finger up in response. Niall on the other hand, was beginning to wake up and stirred around next to me.

"What's my next task?" I asked.

"You're eager," he noted, an amused inflection to his tone.

"I just want to save my family," I told him, trying to speed up the process.

"Very well. Tasha, you're going to infiltrate the banks where Julius Aquino keeps his money. From there, your job is to destroy it," Zayn instructed. With his eyebrows knitted in deep thought, Harry looked up from the laptop to stare at me.

"Destroy it?" I questioned.

"Is there an issue, Tasha?"

"No," I let out an unamused chuckle. Honestly, I would've expected a corrupt organization to steal my father's riches rather than eradicate it.

"You have seventy-two hours from now to successfully extinguish your father's capital from the first bank," Zayn briefed.

"Can you at least tell me where the first bank is?" I requested. 

"Sorry, but I can't do the work for you," he dismissed my request faster than I could ask it, crushing my heart with his coldness. "Bonne chance, Tasha."

Zayn ended the call. And just like that, the tranquility I felt upon waking no longer remained. Each task grew complicated, and with each assignment, came more risks. The chances of going to jail, getting killed, or failing all together increased tenfold. I had no idea what the hell I got myself into, and the worst part about everything was the fact that I could not step away. Quitting wasn't on the table, and the only option available was success.

I exhaled, puffing out my cheeks as I dramatically fell back into the bed. I covered my face with both my hands, attempting to place myself into a happy bubble. Then suddenly one of my hands was lifted away from my face, and I was met with Niall's cheery expression hovering above me.

"Don't hide," Niall's raspy, morning voice cracked and I low key, I lost my shit. "You're Tasha. You run straight into danger."

"It's just a lot to think about," I admitted. Niall took my other hand in his, pulling me upwards.

"This is why you have us, so some of the thinking can be done by our brains," Niall pointed to his head, his lips lifting into a soft smile. I couldn't help the small grin materializing on my face due to Niall's incredibly cheesy, yet perfect words of wisdom.

"Is this a team meeting?" Liam stood at the door, his shoulder leaning against the frame.

His dark grey sweat pants rode low on his hips, and when he lifted an arm to scratch the back of his neck, part of his shirt rose up. With the disarray that suddenly surrounded my life, I never got the chance to really check out Liam, and damn have I been missing out-- that boy was a snack.

"It could be, if Tasha has the ability to keep it in her pants," Harry reasoned bitterly.

"Oh, fuck off, Kitson," I growled, snatching a pillow and hurling at Harry's head. His reflexes were lightning fast, and he caught the pillow before it could collide with his face.

"Don't be angry. Just pointing out the facts, Tash," Harry provoked, tossing the pillow off to the side.

"Tasha! My name is Tasha. Not Tash, Tasha," I corrected, theatrically emphasizing the 'A' at the end of my name.

"If we can just move onto more important things," Liam initiated, pointing to the laptop on the bed. "Task number two, what is it?"

"Break into some banks, and destroy my dad's money," I simply explained. "I have seventy-two hours to compromise the first bank."

"Did you say banks? As in plural? As in there are more than one?" Liam's jaw hung open in surprise.

"I don't even know where the first one possibly could be," I huffed. "It could be in Los Angeles, it could be on Mars. My dad's a traveler, it could be anywhere in the world."

"Well you gotta think," Harry pushed. He got up from the bed, pulling at his curly locks in frustration. "There's gotta be clues that will lead to wherever the fuck your dad keeps his money. ANTI wouldn't have given you this assignment if they thought you couldn't complete it."

I stood up angrily, "they're evil pieces of shits! It wouldn't be surprising if they were all rooting for me to fail!"

"No, to them you're an asset," Harry argued. "They want something from you, which is why they kidnapped Kat. It's a simple game of exchange."

"Since when are you an expert on rogue espionage behavior?" I approached him. "I find it quite bizarre that you're willing to throw yourself into the line of fire for someone you hate."

"Be careful of what you're insinuating," Harry warned. He glared lividly, and though his green eyes were still bright, they carried notes of great darkness.

"I don't know Harry, am I wrong?" I continued, crossing my arms above my chest. "You're pressuring me to figure this thing out, it's as if you're trying to make sure ANTI gets what they want. Admit it, you don't care if I rescue my sister or not. You want what ANTI wants, because you're part of them too."

"You're a fucking lunatic!" Harry furiously shouted.

"You're not denying it!" I screamed.

"Whoa, Tasha! Why would you ever assume that Harry is ANTI?" Liam questioned, putting himself in-between Harry and I.

"What does he have to benefit from all this, Liam?" I gestured for Harry, who leaned against the wall, darting death stares in my direction. "There's absolutely no reason for him to be a part of this unless he's a spy for ANTI!"

"If that's what you believe, then tell me how Niall and I benefit from risking our lives for you," Liam brought up.

"This is why I didn't want any of you to be a part of this," I cooly quipped. "You gain nothing from helping me! If things get too hard, or you just don't fucking feel like it anymore, then you can bail at any second."

"You've got such little faith in us," Liam shook his head, an unamused chuckle softly filling my ears.

"I refuse to get attached to your help," I confessed. "Because the moment I need you the most, will be the same fucking moment you decide to abandon me."

It was silent after that. Not one word was spoken after my honest testament. Every word I said was true, because in the end there will always be human error. They claim that Professor Dela Cruz hired them to watch and protect me, but he's not here to implement any of this. How can I whole heartedly put my trust in people who can potentially ditch me whenever they please?

"I know how to remedy this," Niall piped up, a grin etched across his face. It still amazed me to witness how positive this boy was.

"What do you suggest?" Harry exhaled, clearly exuding disbelief.

"You all have empty stomachs and are stupidly hangry— let's get out of this stuffy apartment and get something to eat," Niall suggested hopefully.

So, that's what we did.

We changed our clothes, washed our face, threw on some deodorant, and headed into the sunshine in search for something to fill our stomachs with. I had to admit, it was refreshing to be outside; to relish in the warm sun, soft breeze, and rainbow flags waving on every corner. Niall lived in the gay capitol of Southern California, and everywhere I turned, it was so unapologetically homosexual.

"You seem to be doing alright," Niall nudged me as he and I walked down the street. Harry and Liam were several paces behind us.

"Just needed a little air, that's all," I told him. "Harry is so frustrating."

"I understand why you're not too fond of him," Niall nodded his head. "But how did it all begin? I don't believe you have the ability to hate someone on sight only. So, what did he do to you?"

Memories swirled in my brain like a cyclone spinning inside a room filled with open file cabinets. Each folder contained a moment in my life, and Niall's question triggered them to lift out of its place, and open wide. But here's the thing: I kept certain memories encrypted, and the ones about encountering Harry, were heavily masked with a secret cipher.

"He's just a dick," I declared simply. "Arrogant and unconscientious of his environment, and the people doomed in it."

"How much do you actually know about him?" Niall questioned.

I shrugged. "I've known Harry for two years. He's the king of Doucheland. There isn't much to him."

"Harry's life, is his life and I am in no position to get into the deep shit," Niall began. "But, just so you know, he's been through some really rough times. That being said, Harry is out here by himself, and for the last two years, Dela Cruz became the only family he had to rely on."

It was beginning to click, "now that Professor Dela Cruz is gone..."

"Yea," Niall said. "Harry helping you, means saving Dela Cruz."

"No wonder his favorite student was Harry," I reminisced on my time as a teacher's assistant for Professor Dela Cruz's Chemistry class where Harry was the star student. "This actually brings me to my next question."

"As long as it isn't too deep, then I might have an answer for you."

"How old is he? If he's been posing as a high school student, part of me thinks that he's some forty year old pervert."

Niall laughed, clapping his hands in amusement. "I don't know about the pervert part, but Harry's twenty-one. His birthday is on February first."

"We have the same birthday," I noted.

"Maybe that's not all you have in common," Niall smiled.

Highly doubt it.

The four of us sat at a square table on an outdoor patio of a trendy restaurant. I sat in between Niall and Liam, with Harry directly in front of me. He looked pissed, and I was still a little irritated with him too. While Niall revealed Harry's reasoning for wanting to join me on my escapade to save my sister, I still didn't fully trust the curly-headed boy.

"Good morning everyone," a tall, tattooed employee with a head of shaggy brown hair stood at our table. "My name is Louis, and I'll be your waiter. Can I start you all off with something to drink? Our mimosas are bottomless till eleven."

"Hey, aren't you the cheer coach at Kennedy Prep?" I asked, tilting my head to the side in curiosity.

I haven't been to any football or basketball games where Kat and her cheer posse would be at, but the few competitions I did attend, I remembered seeing this fellow with them. I always thought it to be revolutionary that one of Kennedy Prep's cheer coaches were male.

"I am," Louis beamed with pride. "I'm an all-star coach on weekday afternoons, and a waiter on the weekends."

"Dope," I complimented with an approving grin.

"I think the three of us will take your offer on the mimosas," Liam leaned towards Louis with a smile. "And bring a glass for the little lady here too, minus the alcohol."

"I need to see three out of four ID's please," Louis replied.

"Two out of four," Harry interjected. "I'll just have a large glass of kombutcha, please."

While Liam and Niall fished their ID's out of their wallets, handing them into Louis' open palm, I took a moment to observe Harry. I pondered Niall's testimony about our 'teammate' and contemplated the plausible hardships Harry could've experienced. Besides leaving his family from wherever his accent originated from, I couldn't come up with a legitimate justification behind his perpetual dickheadness.

"This all checks out," Louis handed Niall's ID back to him with a satisfied grin, and with the same cheery smile turned to Liam, "here ya go, thanks."

"You're welcome," Liam's eyes lingered a little longer than expected, an unfaltering smirk planted firmly on his expression. I sat back, gawking inquisitively at the boy who had a secret or two of his own.

"I'll be back with your drinks," Louis turned on his heel, and the moment he was out of earshot, I leaned over to Liam.

"Dude," I smacked his arm with a wide, incredulous grin.

"What?" Liam cowered away from my blow.

"You were totally checking him out," I shrilled animatedly. "I had no idea that you're gay," I paused and squinted my eyes in wonder. "Unless you're not, then feel free to kick my ass."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know I had to introduce myself like," he sat up straighter and shifted the tone in his voice. "Hi my name is Liam and I like dick."

Both Niall and Harry fell into giggles. I couldn't stop grinning because I never would've guessed that Liam Payne, the guy who handed my ass to me on our first encounter, liked doing it in the ass. Unless he was a top, but that's a whole different conversation on a whole different day.

"So..." I pried.

"So, what?" Liam shrugged his shoulders.

"Are you going to ask Louis out? Or give him your number or something?" I questioned with a shriek— clearly, I was more excited about this than he was.

"He's cute," Liam admitted. "But he's not gay. He's totally straight. I always seem to want the ones I can't have."

"How do you know he's not gay? He's a cheer coach," I pointed out.

"Wow, for someone who explicitly said, 'this princess doesn't play by the rules,'" Harry air-quoted, imitating me with a high-pitched voice. "You're a little prejudice."

"Excuse me?" I threw a hand to my chest dramatically.

"Just cause Louis is a cheer coach, doesn't exactly mean he's homo," Harry dished. High key, he put me in my place, but I'd never admit it out loud. I guess Effie was somewhat right about him— he isn't exactly totally ill-woke.

"What he said," Liam agreed. "Besides, my gaydar is remarkable and I get no gay vibes from him."

"What about me," Niall winked. "What do you sense from me?"

"A dumb ass," Liam joked, bursting into giggles while Niall gasped in expense.

As we clutched our stomachs, laughing at Niall, Louis came back to the table with a tray of beverages. He sat a cold pitcher down in the center of the table, the golden yellow liquid sloshing around. He gave both Liam and Niall a champagne flute, before placing my own personal jug of the same colored fluid in front of me. Louis then grabbed a large glass off of the tray and placed it before Harry.

"Have you had the chance to look at the menu?" Louis asked.

"Uh, no. We've been distracted," Liam replied.

"Distracted looking at ass," I teased under my breath, but loud enough for Niall to hear.

"I can give you guys a few more minutes," Louis offered.

"That'd be great," Liam took the suggestion with a nod of his head.

"I'll be back then," Louis spun around, taking a step forward, but in doing so, almost caused him to collide into a fellow waiter. Louis gasped, lifting his arms to keep the tray in his hands above his head. We saw the entire incident right before our eyes, including the four of us noticing a peculiar, ornate Mandala tattoo on the back of Louis' arm.

ANTI's insignia.

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» author's note «

Christmas is quickly approaching and I'm excited. Mainly, for the food I will be indulging on. I fully plan on gaining 20 pounds during this winter break, so I can save the extra fat for when things get crazy and I don't have time to eat haha.

I wish you all a wonderful Holiday season, whatever you celebrate. I just hope that it's filled with so much joy, love, food, and laughter. Thank you all for reading this story, voting, and commenting. It's the best Christmas present any author could receive :)