The time I accused my brother’s new girlfriend of being a spy was risky. I can see that now. Back then I only knew two things about Adrian.
She was “nice and sweet.” Which didn’t comfort me any. Supposedly, KP’s starter girlfriend had been nice and sweet, and I’d hit her car. Lucky for me, the only thing bent out of shape was my parents. They decided I bumped What’s-Her-Face’s car on purpose.
And maybe I would have if I had thought of it.
If Adrian was nice and sweet, she could save it for the rest of the family. I needed to get to know her beyond two adjectives neighbors use to describe serial killers. This is my brother’s heart we’re talking about.
After a stilted Skype introduction thanks to my paranoid bro, I knew I’d have to take matters into my own hands. I needed something KP couldn’t filter. But what? The lovebirds study in Missouri and I’m nine hours north in Indiana.
Making good use of my online stalking skills, I pulled the university’s address. Snail mail could sneak by KP’s defenses undetected.
The thing was: I didn’t want to scare her off. Not really. One honest conversation. That’s all I asked. So, ahem, I penned this letter.
Dear Adrian (if that is your real name),
KP tells me you are “nice” and “sweet.” But I know your secret.
You’re a spy. A spy on a mission to… Well, I haven’t quite figured out what your mission at Name of University is—yet. Regardless, I’ve read too many romantic suspense novels to mistake “nice” and “sweet” for mere adjectives. You’re on a covert op, yes? Flying under the radar? Eh? Eh?
You can tell me. Or don’t. A good spy never reveals her secrets.
I would also like to thank you. Thank you for using my brother as part of your cover. You’re a smart girl, knowing a couple is less likely to be noticed than a single blonde. While most sisters would worry about their brother’s safety under such dangerous circumstances, I trust he’s in good hands. You are after all a spy and probably following in the steps of Cody Banks.
Before I leave you to your “studies” or whatever stakeout you need to be staking-out, you should know I too have secrets. Since I know yours, it’s only fair you know mine:
I have a taser. And a spikey flashlight. Please don’t take this as a threat. I simply want to offer my weapons should they be of any assistance to you during the stint of your mission.
To you, dear person reading, this letter may seem drastic, even demented—especially for a first impression… And, yeah, you have a point, but this is girlfriend #3. Seeing as how I fender bendered What’s-Her-Face’s car, it's basically go big or go home at this point.
Less than a week later, Secret Agent Adrian wrote back. Confident she could trust me to keep her information classified, she disclosed minor details regarding her cover, assured me KP’s safety was top priority, and inquired about borrowing a weapon or two.
Something tells me this one’s a keeper.
What’s the craziest first impression you’ve made/experienced?
|Headshot photo credit: Heidi Abbott|
Nichole Parks majors in dark humor and dark chocolate at Taylor University. She makes her headquarters at Zondervan Library where she works remotely as Associate Editor of Splickety Love, blogs at nicholeparks.com, and perfects her application for The Bachelor.
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