Yeah..., so I'm immortal. It's no big deal. Really. It's actually pretty boring to be honest. You don't usually deal with life or death situations on a daily basis. Me saying I'm immortal is better to be rephrased as, 'if by the off chance I were to be stabbed at this very moment, I wouldn't die'. Sure that way sounds a lot less like I'm about to embark on some outrageous journey to God knows where, but at least it's more honest.

You may be asking yourself, how did I find out I'm immortal in the first place? Well, I drew the short straw and was lucky enough to undergo that 'off chance'. I was 12 when I fell off a building.

That sounds like some really cool scene from a movie, but trust me, it wasn't. My reasoning is, in a movie, when they fall, it's elegant. Time slows and you see the horror on the actor's face as they realize they're heading straight for their inevitable death. You see the very moment where their life flashes before their eyes and it's heartbreaking.

I fell off a roof. That's it. I tripped and fell. My last thoughts before I hit the ground was 'wow, this is a pretty stupid way to die'. Time didn't slow, but I felt weightless for a moment before I flattened on the asphalt of the parking lot below.

I think I blacked out, I couldn't tell you how long it lasted. Thirty seconds? Five minutes? An hour? Time wasn't important and I didn't bother to check it when I realized that was miraculously still alive after falling from an eight story building. It didn't seem like a priority.

I was surrounded by blood and when I reached up to feel my head, it was matted with the same substance. I had the worst headache in history and now that I think about it, it was because my brain was (likely) Silly Putty in my skull. It only lasted about five minutes before I felt good as new. The only evidence of what had happened was the amount of blood.

Cleaning up the mess was possibly the worst part. I felt a constant worry that someone would see me frantically trying to clean up a bloody mess in an empty parking lot and call the cops.

But no cops were called and the mess was cleaned.

When I'd gotten home, I was happy to find the house was empty. I took a shower letting the red colors swirl and mix with the transparent water before flowing down the drain.

I wasn't in any pain and I suffered no wounds. My hair was still damp and although it was short, some still stuck to the back of my neck. Tying my towel around my waist, I took a deep breath letting it out shakily. Pulling open a drawer I had grabbed a pair of my moms scissors she used to cut my siblings' hair.

I was about to plunge the sharp tool into my stomach but froze. If this somehow was only a one time thing, a miracle, I'd have killed myself. So instead, I plunged it into my hand.

Let me tell you...that hurts.

I howled in pain backing up into the wall. It was unbearable, and in a moment of adrenaline, I managed to pull them out.

I was breathing heavy and I quickly moved my hand to the sink turning on the water. It burned but it quickly faded. The cut seemed to mend itself together before my eyes.

My heavy breaths turned into a strained shocked laugh. I couldn't believe it.

Since then, I've become more familiar with how this immortality thing works. I still age. I don't get sick and I maintain perfect health. I still bleed, obviously. All my wounds heal within a matter of a few seconds to minutes, however it usually depends on the severity of the wound.

A paper cut heals instantaneously as opposed to a large gaping hole in my abdomen which will take upward of a minute. I still feel the pain but I've developed a tolerance over the years after many self experiments.

I don't know if I will ever die. Considering I age, I expect myself to. But, in the chance I don't, that means one day I'll be a conscious pile of bones in the ground.

It takes a lot to develop a trust that you won't die. I'm eighteen now, yet I still hesitate to plunge a knife into my stomach.

That makes it sound like a stab myself often. I promise, I don't stab myself. The most harm I do is prick my finger once a week to make sure I'm still immune to sharp objects.

I felt an elbow jab into my ribs and it ripped me back into reality. "Ahem!" My friend Pidge gave me an expecting look.

"What?" I said oblivious to the situation. That was until I turned to see the teacher looking at me with eyes that peered into my soul seeking the answer to a stupidly long algebraic problem.

My eyes gave a quick glance to the window. I should jump out, I could if I wanted. I decided against it, I like this shirt and don't want to risk getting blood on it. "Four?"

The teacher pursed his lips. "Correct, thank you Lance."

I'm the luckiest son of a-

The bell rang and I quickly packed up my things shoving it all into my bag. "Hey Pidge!" I smiled pulling my backpack strap over my shoulder.

"Don't 'Hey Pidge' me. You still owe me five bucks." She jabbed a finger in my direction.

"Oh, right," I laughed nervously, "I didn't think you were serious about that."

"Well I was." She scowled. Her and I had a bet yesterday to which I lost of course. Our history teacher had an odd yet entertaining habit of acting out his lectures. Her bet was that he'd bring in a fake beard to act out Abraham Lincoln. I said he wouldn't take it that far.

He took it that far.

"Fine, I'll bring it to you tomorr..." My eyes locked onto someone. Someone I've never seen before, "-ow."

"Who's that?" Pidge asked noticing my staring.

"I don't know."

She smiled up at me. "I think you want to know."

"Yeah," I agreed before I realized what she was getting at. "No! That's- I don't swing that way."

"Sure you don't, lover boy." She nudged me wiggling her eyebrows.

Okay, I'm very aware I have an interest in men. But I've grown up being told and assumed I'm completely and totally straight. Why mess with that? I'm still attracted to girls, so, why not just ignore it and carry on? (Rainbow Rowell anyone?)

He was short but mysterious looking. He wore skinny jeans and a loose white shirt with 'NASA' on it. His hair was dark and longer- fluffy looking; currently pulled back into a loose ponytail. He was good looking, there was no denying that. His eyes were little violet orbs as they locked with mine.

I quickly looked away and caught up with Pidge. "He caught me staring." I said embarrassedly.

"Good, you creep." She chuckled.

I made a hurt gasp, "This is the part where you're supposed to say 'he probably has a huge crush on you Lance'!"

"What? I thought you didn't swing that way?" She teased. I glared at her.

"Touché." I nodded.

I glanced back and saw the guy was still looking at me. Except he seemed to be glaring? Or contemplating? Either way, it didn't seem like it was because he had a crush on me.

I ignored it and continued on with my day. It was unusual, but I won't think much of it. Maybe a side effect of being immortal is the tendency to overthink things. Because if that's the case, it would explain a lot.

The bell rang and I jumped up from my seat. I hauled my bag over my shoulder and all the students fled the classroom ignoring the teachers pleas to wait until he dismissed them.

After grabbing my binder and a few books from my locker and zipping them up in my bag, I turned to see the new kid from earlier walking down the hall casually. Just like that, with a split decision, I sauntered up to him. "Hey, I'm Lance." I held out my hand.

He glanced at my hand before shaking it warily. "Keith..."

"Are you new here?"

"Yeah-, first day." He said.

"If you aren't busy, Pidge, Hunk, and I, usually go to this café down the street on Thursday's, want to join?" I offered.

"Yeah, sure." He flashes a small smile.

We walked to Pidge's locker where Hunk was waiting with her. "Hey, this is Keith," I introduced him.

"Sup, I'm Pidge." She shut her locker.

"Hunk." Hunk smiled kindly.

"I invited him for coffee." I explained.

"Oh shoot, sorry Lance!" Pidge frowned, "Hunk and I need to work on a science project for Mr. T's class. We need to go to the library before it closes."

"Oh, okay. Is just the two of us okay?" I asked Keith, giving him a dashing smile.

"Yeah," Keith looked nervous.

I drove us there and I heard my phone go off. As we exited the car I checked it.

Pidge: I'm a pretty good liar, huh? 😉

Me: I should have known

Pidge: Hey! I'm doing you a favor! I love Thursday coffee! Don't screw this up

I shut off my phone and shoved it into my pocket holding the door open for Keith. He thanked me, and as we walked in, the aroma of coffee filled the air.

We both ordered and sat down at a small table near the back. When the two coffees were set on the counter I grabbed them. I set them on the table and pulled the cap off mine. "I'm going to grab some creamer, I'll be right back."

As I was waiting at the counter I glanced back at Keith. I was surprised, however, to see he was dumping a white powder into my coffee from a small glass tube half the size of a pinky. I was distracted when the barista set a few creamers on the counter for me. "Oh, thanks." I grabbed them and walked back to the table.

I smiled and dumped the cream in. I lifted the drink to my lips and watched as Keith gave a nervous look. He avoided eye contact and instead sipped on his coffee. I sighed and lowered it. "Can I ask you something?"

"Uh, sure." His eyes flicked to my coffee.

"Did you move from somewhere? What school did you go to before?"

He seemed thrown off by my question. "I moved from Washington. You wouldn't have heard of my school."

"Oh," I raised the drink up again, "why'd you move?" I lowered it. I was mostly trying to mess with Keith, and I could see in his eyes it was eating away at him.

"Work. I mean..., my mom got a job here." His hands were tearing and twisting at a napkin.

I rubbed the side of my coffee cup with my thumb. "One more question?"

"Go ahead." He said.

"What did you put in my coffee?" I asked pursing my lips.

"What? No-nothing." He fumbled over his words.

"Oh, okay." I raised it to my mouth and pushed my lip on the edge so I didn't actually drink any. Before I could take a 'sip', Keith jerked my arm keeping me from doing it. Some of the drink spilled onto the table.

"Are you insane? You accepted my answer just like that?" His eyebrows were knitted together.

"Pretty much." I wiped at the spill with a few napkins.

He sighed, "Arsenic."

"What?"

"Arsenic. It's what I put in your coffee."

"Isn't that stuff extremely deadly?" I looked at him expectantly.

"Extremely."

"Well, what the heck Keith?!" I frowned, "I hate to say it, but I think this puts a bit of a damper on our friendship."

"I seriously just attempted to kill you," He looked at me stunned.

"Yeah, and why do you want to kill me? I mean I know my jokes aren't funny, but that seems a little extreme-..." I leaned back in my chair.

He rolled his eyes chuckling, "I wouldn't use the word 'want'. It's just kind of my... job."

I gasped, "Are you...," I leaned in and began to whisper, "a hitman?"

"No, more like an assassin." He sipped his coffee. "A lousy assassin."

"I think killing people is a good thing to be bad at." I stated.

"That's fair."

"So?"

"Hm?" He looked at me and I could tell he looked guilty. An assassin with a conscience.

"So, how many people have you...?" I brought a finger to my throat.

"None..." He began to mess with a napkin again.

"Oh thank gosh," I let out a relieved breath and took a sip of my coffee.

"Wait! Lance!" He yelled with wide eyes.

"Oooh yeahh..." I looked down at my cup.

"We need to get you to a hospital. Right now." He stood up quickly urging me to as well.

"Nah, it's fine. Report back that you gave me poison or whatever and that I'm dead. It's your job right." I smiled.

"I already told you, I'm lousy at it. Now get up." He grabbed my hands pulling me up.

"It's fine! Besides, how am I going to explain having Arsenic in my system anyway?" I put a hand on my hip. "Just skip town, or whatever you're supposed to do."

He let me sit back down and stood there nervously. "The assignments given to us are always for a reason. They're usually bad people, but I don't understand why they want you dead."

"Who's they?" I asked just trying to gather some information. I know I'll be fine and Keith will never have to know he didn't actually kill me. Plus, I'll know who it is that wants me dead.

"The... government?" He wrung his hands. "Okay, I don't see anything wrong with telling you, considering you have roughly 24 hours if you're lucky. So there's more of a 'secret' group that works for the government. It technically doesn't exist. Even the president has limited knowledge of it. They assign us to take out really bad people or potential threats to society."

"Oh," I said a little surprised.

"Why do they want you dead?" He asked.

"No clue." I lied. The government sees me as a potential threat to society? "Ooh, ouch. You should probably go. You don't want people to tie you to this." I grabbed my stomach sickly. It just felt like I had an upset stomach, that's basically it.

"Okay." He gave me another guilty look and he grabbed my hand. "I'm really sorry."

I began to feel guilty too. I could tell him that I'd be fine, but should I trust him? Better not risk it.

I watched him leave. He looked troubled and I realized he never actually did this before. Despite being an assassin, he had a strong conscience. I pushed myself up, chugged the last of my coffee, and drove home.

"So?" Pidge strolled up to walk next to me.

"It went... well?" I said, it sounding more like a question.

"What happened?" She raised an eyebrow curiously as we stopped at my locker.

I sighed opening it. "I'm not sure..." I shoved a textbook and a few binders in, "it didn't last very long."

"Why not?" Pidge folded her arms stubbornly.

"Something came up and he took off. I don't know that he was interested anyway." I shut my locker and turned around slipping the straps of my backpack over my shoulders. I froze when I saw Keith walking on the other side of the hall. He glanced in my direction and his eyes seemed to widen when they locked with mine.

I cleared my throat and looked back at Pidge who was giving me an expectant look. "What was that?" She asked referring to our exchange.

"What was what?" I played dumb.

"You're not telling me something." She frowned.

The bell rang and I flashed her a cocky grin. I shrugged and whirled in the opposite direction to head to class. I turned down another branch of the school to get to my computer applications class. As I passed a dark empty classroom, I felt a jerk at my backpack and I was sent tumbling backward.

The room was dark with the only light source being a window. A shadow blurred my vision and before I could catch my breath, I was against the wall with my shirt held tightly in fists. My vision adjusted and I could see Keith. His dark hair, light shimmering eyes, and coarse breath. Him in all his glory.

His expression is what caused my stomach to turn. It was a mixture of shock, relief, and horror. "How are you alive?"

"Why didn't you leave?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

"Answer my question." Keith demanded.

"I think there's a magic word to add to that. Besides, I'll answer when I'm not in the perfect position to get pummeled." I turned my nose up in the other direction.

He sighed and let me go, mumbling a small 'please'. I brushed off my shirt and hopped onto a counter to sit. I looked him over and took note of the outline of something in his jacket pocket; I suspect a knife.

"Alright," I began, "remember when I said I didn't know why the government would want me dead?" He nodded. "Well that was a lie. I never thought I'd be targeted by the government, but I suppose they see me as a 'threat to society'."

"So, why?" He urged impatiently.

"I'm... immortal." I looked at him anxiously, horrified to see what his reaction will be.

"Immortal?" He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. I hopped off the counter and walked up to him folding my arms. We were close and it made him shift. "Give me your knife please." I held out my hand expectantly.

"How did you...?" He glared at me suspiciously.

I rolled my eyes again and waved my open palm a little, urging him to just give it to me.

"Fine." He sighed pulling it out and setting it in my palm.

"Thank you." I pulled it from its guard and Keith took a cautious step back. "Relax." I said before plunging the knife into my hand. My breathing sped up as pain shot from the area up my arm. I let out a pained grunt, and retracted it from my palm.

Blood spilled onto the floor and dripped to my elbow. I held my hand up to keep a lighter blood flow. Instantaneously, my skin smoothed over the area and the only evidence of my wound was the dark red dripping from my arm.

Keith looked wild and shocked. "A-are you insane?!" He gasped. His back was pressed against the counter, as far away from me as he could be.

I wiggled my fingers showing off my perfectly fine and non-impaled hand. In the blink of an eye, he grabbed my wrist. I tried to yank it back, but it was useless. His eyes flicked across my hands to confirm.

"You weren't lying." Keith looked as if his whole world had been turned upside down.

"Of course I wasn't." I frowned. He let go of my wrist and I rubbed at it with a pouted expression.

"Sorry." He apologized awkwardly.

"It's okay." I turned and began to look around the classroom.

"How long have you been immortal?" He let out a shaky breath.

I gave him a smile that helped him realize how stupid the question was.

His head fell in his hands and he let out an embarrassed chuckle. "Sorry."

"I get it." I smirked opening a few cabinets.

"What... what are you looking for?" Keith asked walking up next to me.

I bent down and opened a drawer giving a victorious hum. I held up a plastic container of disinfecting wipes.

He mouthed a quiet 'oh' as I began to wipe down my arm and clean the mess on the floor.

"I still age, I can't be wounded, and I can't get sick." I explained.

"You have to have some sort weakness." Keith attempted.

"Nope! Nothing!" I smiled at him smugly.

He frowned and leaned against the counter.

"What's wrong mission impossible?" I smirked just to rub it in that there was no way he could finish his job.

He cut me a sharp look as I tossed the bloody wipes into a nearly full trash can and tied off the top.

"Okay," I huffed, "Are you sure you're entirely upset about this? You didn't seem all that keen on murdering me. In fact, when you saw me alive, you almost seemed a little relieved. Are you sure you went with the right career choice?" I was a little more serious now as I sauntered up next to him.

He stared at me for a moment, setting his jaw. "You weren't supposed to be a normal person."

"I'm not normal!" I tried to keep calm and maintain my previously smug attitude, but I could feel my actual retaliation