Kim Cho was one of the best agents available. He was also one of the youngest. This was both good and bad for him, especially when he was assigned to work as a bodyguard at St. Genevieve's Preparatory School for Gifted Young Women.

Prep School Bodyguard
Copyright 2010 by Heather Rose Brown
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Staring out at the muted blur of landscape whizzing by my window, I did my best to ignore the strange, ticklish sensation of silky hair brushing against my neck. The fluttering in my chest was getting worse, and it was becoming difficult to remember to take slow, steady breaths.

Although it hadn't really gotten all that bad yet, I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on me. Riding for two hours in a sub-compact was finally starting to take its toll, and the stress of having to learn a new role with almost no prep time wasn't helping.

I opened my window enough to let in a ripple of damp, pine-scented air, but not quite enough for more than the occasional raindrop to sneak through the crack. Leaning against the door, I rested my cheek on the cool glass and tilted my face up into the light breeze.

"Kimmy?" Julie asked in a voice barely a whisper above the swish of the windshield wipers and the steady purr of the engine.

I stopped running the back of my tongue over the plastic device lining the roof of my mouth and muttered, "That's Agent Cho," then clamped my jaws shut when the still unfamiliar voice slipped between my lips.

"I'm sorry," she calmly replied. "I just thought we probably should start getting into character, since we'll be arriving at the school soon."

I fiddled with the vent blowing warm air onto my bare legs for a moment before I said, "It's okay. I just have a thing about being called Kimmy."

"Would you feel better being called Kim?"

The genuine warmth and concern in her voice took the edge off my nerves. "That'll work fine," I said, doing my best to sound cheerful.

"Okay, Kim it is." Something about the way she said my name made my toes curl. It had been nearly two years since I'd been paired up with Agent Graham on my first assignment; I'd almost forgotten the effect she could have on me.

We rode along in companionable silence for a short while before I said, "Thanks for putting up with my moodiness. I know I've been acting pretty grumpy ever since the director revealed the details of my cover."

"Don't worry about it," she said as she diverted her attention from the road for a moment to give me a wink. "It just means you're getting into your role as a teenager."

"But a teenage girl?" I asked, wincing when I realized how whiny I sounded.

"Our client goes to an all-girl prep school. No boys are allowed on campus."

"Okay, but why couldn't a woman have been given my assignment?"

"Because there weren't any female agents available who were young enough to pass as a teenager and skilled enough to pull off this role on such short notice."

While I mulled over the implications of that statement, my partner carefully turned from the winding road we'd been following onto a narrow drive lined with tall, well groomed hedges. My heart started thumping again when the drive emptied onto a small parking lot.

As we pulled into an empty space, I took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly before saying, "Well, I guess this is it."

"Don't worry," Julie said, giving me an encouraging smile a she parked. Once the engine grew silent, she added, "I've seen you in action before, so I know what I'm talking about when I say, you'll do fine on this assignment."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a chuckle bubbling deep in my chest as I added, "Mom."

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I gave my umbrella a few shakes before following Julie through the entrance, then unbuttoned my raincoat as we exchanged the chilly damp of our trip through the steady rain for the comforting warmth indoors. The squidgy flump of my boots made an interesting counterpoint to the sharp click of my partner's heels as we headed down the deserted hall.

A nicely dressed older woman looked up from the paperwork on her desk when we entered her office, then smiled and stood as she said, "Juliet! It's so good to have you back."

She walked out from behind her desk and gave Julie a friendly hug. "As usual," the woman said when she let Julie go, "your timing is uncanny. I just received a fax of your daughter's school records a few moments ago." She turned to me and her smile grew as she said, "You must be Kimmy."

"Actually, it's Kim," I blurted out, then added somewhat belatedly, "I mean, I'd prefer being called Kim, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, sweetie,' she said. "I know how important a name can be. Please feel free to call me Margaret, or Mrs. Pool, if you prefer."

I was half tempted to say something about being called sweetie, but decided it might be getting too far out of character. Instead, I tried to think friendly thoughts as I smiled and said, "Thank you, Mrs. Pool."

She took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "The pleasure is all mine," she said, then gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. "If the two of you would like to take a seat, we'll be able to take care of a few registration formalities."

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Answering the registration questions hadn't taken as long as I'd expected, but a certain need had started becoming urgent by the time we were done. Once Mrs. Pool welcomed me to the school and handed me my orientation package, I quickly followed the map on the back of my class schedule to the nearest restroom.

To my relief, I didn't see or hear anyone as I walked through the door and made a beeline to the nearest stall. Despite the pressure on my bladder, I found myself frozen when I pulled down my underpants and got my first good look at the transformation that had been made to my nether regions.

The people in the makeup and appliances department had called it a gaff, which I eventually decided must be some sort of bizarre chastity belt. While the experience hadn't been painful, having someone arranging my bits and poking tubes where no tubes should go had been embarrassing.

My recollection of the experience was mercifully disrupted by the sound of approaching voices, and I sat down to take care of the business I'd come in for. Just as I was wiping myself, someone banged on my stall and asked, "Who's in there?"

Not being able to recall any rules of engagement for my current situation, I decided to wing it and asked, "Who wants to know?"

I got a few snickers in response, followed by the stall door being forced open hard enough to send my coat, umbrella, and backpack flying. A tall girl with dark, wavy hair reached in, grabbed me by the shoulders, and said with a snarl, "Aubrey Kensington wants to know, Little Miss Smartass."

I barely had a chance to pull up my underpants before she dragged me out. It took a serious act of will to not break role and gently but firmly flatten the obnoxious girl.

About half a dozen girls formed a circle around us, and one of them said, "Oh jeez, they're letting them in younger every year."

"I know," said another girl. "What are you, twelve?"

Before I could answer the question, someone else said, "No, I don't think they'd let them in that young, but she definitely looks like a freshman."

"I think you're right," Aubrey said as she let me go. "So what are you doing in the senior bathroom, Little Miss Freshman?"

Hoping this was a step up from the previous name she had called me, I decided to give polite friendliness a shot and said, "I'm sorry. This is my first day here. I didn't know there were separate bathrooms for seniors."

Aubrey's mouth twisted into something between a smile and a grimace. "Aww ... poor Little Miss Freshman must have gotten lost." Expecting her to make some sort of move, I was a little surprised when she only rested her hand on my shoulder.

Her smile slipped into something more normal looking, but there was still an evil glint behind her eyes. "Don't worry," she said in an almost motherly tone. "All seniors are expected to look out for our freshman classmates, and make them feel welcome."

Resting her free hand on my other shoulder, she slumped down a little until our noses were nearly touching. I could smell the cherry bubblegum on her breath as she said, "So, as the senior class president, please allow me to welcome you to the fall semester at St. Genevieve's Preparatory School for Gifted Young Women."

Hearing her emphasis on the word fall, I was prepared for the sudden shove as well as finding someone had been kneeling behind me. What I hadn't expected was to land between the linked arms of two girls.

"What are you doing?" I asked, feeling disoriented.

"Don't worry," one of them said. "We're here to support you."

"That's right," the other girl said. "We're also here to guide you through all the confusion you might face as a freshman."

"That's absolutely right," Aubrey said as she drew herself upright. "With that in mind, would you two ladies be so kind as to show our new classmate to the freshman restroom?"

"We'd be delighted," they said in unison. Something about the overly cheerful tone of their voices put a chill in my bones, but even that warning sign hadn't prepared me for what came next.

Suddenly, my feet went up in the air as I slid head first into a dark, tight space. As the blood rushed to my face, I silently reminded myself to not panic. This was just a temporary situation that could be resolved if I kept my wits about me. Eventually the laughter faded when I heard the door close, leaving me in silence and, I assumed, alone to contemplate my position in the school pecking order.

The first thing I tried was just pulling myself out, but my arms were firmly pinned to my sides. The next thing I tried was waving my legs around, but whatever I was in barely wobbled. I tried to ignore the smell of used paper towels, plastic trash can liner, and other things I didn't want my imagination to identify as I again reminded myself not to panic.

I gave up and panicked.

My throat was starting to get raw from screaming for help when I felt someone grab one of my feet. That started to work until my shoe popped off. Dots of light began swirling behind my closed eyelids and my breakfast felt like it was trying to claw its way out of my stomach.

Someone wrapped both arms around my legs and began tugging. I took in huge gulps of air when I was pulled free. Once I was on my feet, I held onto the arm my rescuer held around me while waiting for the room to stop spinning.

"Are you okay?" she asked when she let me go.

I turned to the girl beside me and said, "Yeah, I'm okay. More embarrassed than anything." After studying her vaguely familiar face for a moment, I asked, "Have we met before?"

The girl's forehead wrinkled as she said, "I don't think so." Her expression brightened as she added, "We have now, though." She then took my hand and gave it a gentle but enthusiastic shake. "I'm Fawn Wetherby."

The name was the last piece that made everything click. I returned her smile as I introduced myself, while marveling at the strange stroke of luck. This was NOT the way I had planned to make first contact with our client.