I felt someone's presence behind me as I fiddled with my locker, and I figured it was Justin. My super-CIA-legacy spy skills must be amazing, because I was right.
"So. You haven't told me your number yet." Ha. He was still after something that didn't exist! Of course, it's not like I can tell him that the Gallagher Academy has a signal scrambler – way too strong for cellphones to exist – since we're spies and all. No, instead I did what spies our trained best to do: lie.
"I would, but my mom doesn't want me to have one because of monetary reasons. I think she thinks I'd text away our budget." A lie, but an easy one. I wasn't ready for his response, though. At all.
"What does your dad think about it? Is he the protective kind or the spoiling kind?" I think my heart dropped to my intestines and my lungs were infiltrated by lots of dust. My eyes started to burn, but I kept my tears from forming. I quickly gained my composure, startled that just the mention of my dad could extract that much emotion from me.
Justin picked up that it was obviously a tender subject for me, and gently said, "It's okay if you don't want to answer that, Cammie." But I wouldn't be weak. I would hold strong, for my sisters, for me, for my dad. I quickly came up with an alibi.
"No, it's okay. He was killed. A few years ago, before middle school. In a car accident. He was hit by a drunk driver, and his car spun out into oncoming traffic." I heard the bell ring, but Justin motioned for me to continue.
"He died before I could get to the scene." I was surprised at my lying abilities. My cover sounded realistic. But as I thought of the way my dad really died – or at least most likely died – and how I could never talk about it or find out, and I began to cry. Hard.
I felt Justin's arms wrapping around me; not in a romantic way, but in comfort. He just let me sob it all out of my system, not caring about his wet shirt or the fact that he was supposed to be in class.
Finally, I stopped. I hadn't cried like that since… ever. It's uncharacteristic for me. I was a spy, I was tough, and I didn't cry. Especially in front of a guy that I just met. I know it sounds cliché and all, but I think the bottle where I had stored my emotions from my dad's death had just broken. I took a step back, grabbed my stuff, and turned to Justin again.
"Hey, um, I'm so sorry about that. I'm usually not like this." Justin nodded, telling me with his eyes that it was okay, and that he understood. I continued, "if it's okay with you, I'd like to move our fight to Wednesday. I'm just… not up to hurting anyone right now. I think I'll call in sick and go home. Can you pass on the word? And tell my friends that I'm okay? Just tell them it's about my dad. Please. Thank you, so much."
Justin nodded again, gave me directions to the nurse's office, and left to change his shirt. I faked the symptoms of a seriously bad cold by using and abusing my spy knowledge. I trudged home, taking a seriously-short short cut.
_____________________________________________________________
Bubblegum Guard let me in once he recognized me, notifying my mom I had arrived. She already knew I would be coming, so I wasn't surprised to walk into the foyer and find my mother waiting for me.
"Come with me, Cammie," she said as I neared her. She spun around and began walking to the Hall of History with me close behind. At least I wasn't in trouble. (When I'm in trouble my mom uses my full name: Cameron. It always makes me nervous.)
When I entered her office, I was greeted with the wonderful aroma of coffee, and I spotted two mugs of coffee, one made exactly how I like it – with vanilla non-dairy creamer. Oh, Mom was good.
"Do you want me to cut to the chase or take the classic approach first? Mom said jokingly. I relaxed and joked back, "Oh, the classic routine of course. Especially since you can't spy on me as easily anymore." She handed me my hot-but-warm-enough-to-drink coffee, and just the smell of it was simply intoxicating. I took a sip, and she began.
"How was school?"
"Fine." I was going to give the classic answers.
"Have you made any friends?"
"Not really."
"Do you like your teachers?"
"I already know everything they're teaching me, but I like how Ms. Meinders, my English teacher, explains things. She's fairly nice. But my geometry teacher doesn't like the Gallagher Academy. Fortunately, I came up with an alibi that will let me evade the rich-girl image. Do you wanna hear it?" My mother agreed, and I explained my cover. She liked it well enough, I guess.
"And tell me, Cammie, why are you home three hours, forty-seven minutes and sixteen seconds before you're supposed to be?" My mom questioned without looking at a clock. I know I do that sometimes, too, but it's still a little freaky. But fortunately, I was somewhat-prepared for this question. I could:
A) Explain everything that happened in such amazing detail that it takes too long for my mom to find out the real reason.
B) Evade giving a probably-awkward answer by drugging my mother and running away to New York City.
C) Ask my mom what was really on my mind.
Option C was probably the most dangerous, but that the one I chose. I took a deep breath, and hoped my mom would truly answer me this time. I needed to know.
"Mom, what really happened to Dad? How did he die?" Somehow, I felt liberated just to ask that so flat-out. I didn't hear any reaction from my mom, but I heard her walk toward her locked filing cabinet. I looked up from my coffee and saw her open the cabinet and pull out a file.
"Cammie, you're not a little girl anymore. You've done well in CoveOps, and matured greatly. You have reached the clearance to find out. She plopped the folder in front of me, and left, telling me that she'd be in the P.&E. barn. I grabbed the folder and went to my hall.
Over the past year, I had moved my beanie-bag from my dormroom to my hidden hall. By now, I had a beanie bag, a lamp, a rug, and a small bookshelf. This was my place where I went when I wanted to be truly alone and comfortable. I turned on the lamp, plopped down, and opened the file. The information I found shocked me.
Ooh, cliffy. ;) I might not be able to update for a while because of school and all. It starts Monday! :/ Anyways, happy belated New Year's! R&R, please.