A/N: If you guys are actually reading this, that means you care enough 'bout the story to follow it here. I couldn't thank you enough. After all this time I've been gone (7 months, but who's counting?) I'm amazed you are still willing to stick by me. If so, THANKS SO MUCH! I really love you guys damn.

I was laughing.

Guffawing, chuckling, giggling, and snorting all at once.

You asking why? It's because of what I am doing right now.

Sparring.

It normally was a serious matter, as we're supposed to be training for life and death stuff here, but Isabelle is just that weird to keep making constipated faces as we spar, me wielding my dagger and her cracking her whip.

"And then, he tripped and fell into the punch bowl!" Izzy was giggling, telling a joke as she tried to wrap her whip around my wrists, lithely dodging my flying daggers as she did so. "You should've seen his face, it was hilarious, I don't think he would ever have an appetite for punch again after—OOF!"

She doubled over and fell to the floor in a crumpled heap as my leather-covered dagger hit her in the stomach, and she peeked up at me.

"Please spare me!" She shrieked in a high-pitched voice. "Mercy!"

Aline Penhallow, who was Asian but lived in France for a good part of her life, spoke up without looking from target practice. "Why are you thanking Clary for fake-killing you?"

"Aline!" Izzy whined. "I said mercy. Not Merci." She rolled her tongue on the 'r'.

"French lesson going on?" Maia strolled into the training room casually with her hand in her pockets. Before anyone could say anything else, she let out a high-pitched shriek and threw a training knife at me.

"Hi-Ya!"

I reached out a hand and plucked it out of the air before it could hit me in the forehead.

"Not bad, Maia." I smirked evilly. "But still not enough to beat Clarissa the Magnificent."

Maia groaned, her head hanging down before she quickly hurled another knife at me. I didn't see this one coming and it hit me square on the forehead. I landed back on the cold, hard floor with a loud thud.

"I can see stars." I murmured dreamily as Maia cheered. "I can see the Fault in Our Stars and Augustus Waters."

Helen Blackthorn, a lesbian, gasped. "You did not just go there."

When Maia shot her a weird look, she shrugged. "Hey, even a les can appreciate eye candy and sweet guys okay?"

"Hey, where's Camille?" Izzy chimed in. "It's not like her to miss training. She's usually the first one in here hanging off the beams like an effin' bat."

"No idea." I shrugged. "Hangover?"

"It's four in the evening, Clary." Aline deadpans. "I doubt anyone can sleep that long."

I yelped in protest. "I can!"

"Besides you, of course." Aline rolls her eyes and laughs loudly. "Let's go Helen, Clary is such a loser!"

"More making out planned?" I chime in.

"No!" Aline sounds indignant, seeing that I hadn't open my eyes yet. "Well, maybe. Goodbye, losers."

The sentence was lighthearted to let us all know she's joking.

The door shut with a soft click.

Then it abruptly banged open again, followed by pants.

"Don't tell me you decided to publicize your make out sessions." I say with my eyes still closed.

"No!" I recognized Camille's voice. "I've got news! Straight from the Director." She paused to take in a deep breath. "I sprinted all the way here from the Boy Side."

I whistled, before springing up into a standing position. "Stamina is very important." I mimicked our coach's Romanian accent.

"I snuck a peek." Camille admitted. "Remember that beach side thing the Director bought a while back?"

"Yeah." Izzy replied for all of us.

"Apparently." Camille squinted at the paper. "It's become a Student Village of sorts now. But like, fancy-er." She looked around at us. "I'm talking spas and private beaches and clubs and restaurants here, people."

Maia leaned forward. "Get to the point Miss Belcourt." She said in a Spanish accent.

"It's all for us! For the EP kids!" Camille squealed, and Camille Belcourt never squeals. "But we have to share it with the boys. From EP."

You see, there is this thing, more like a program, which our school has. We call it Exclusive Program, EP for short, and provide spies and assassins for organizations like CIAs. Everyone knows our spies are the best in the country. Everyone think it's for the elite, rich kids to attend, the genius of the geniuses, but if they only knew.

"Who cares?" I laughed. "A private beach? Oh hell yes baby I would murder them boys if I have to."

I grab a dagger off the floor and stick it in my boots, before straightening and giving a slow, sly smile.

"We're so checking out that place. A girl's gotta establish her territory, isn't that right?"

Izzy smiled viciously, cracking her whip on the floor. "And we're so not going to let these measly wannabe spy boys ruin this fancy shit for us."

What do you think? I did promise I would make this better :3

Yours truly,

Kaitlyn xoxo