The Conspirators - Chapter 2
"Maxine Thompson?" The man in the black suit sat down in a plush chair across my table.
"Max, please." I sip my espresso, wiping the whipped cream off my mouth with the back of my hand. "And your name? Momma told me not to talk to strangers." I shoot him a smile. His face stays blank and unreadable. I swear I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
"Mr. John Doe." I nearly spit the chocolate heaven out of my mouth. Was this dude for real?
"You're not being serious, are you?" I scrutinize him and wipe my mouth again.
"Of course not. But call me Mr. Smith. And that only, young lady." My mind was torn between slapping him and really, really liking this guy's attitude.
"Okay. Now we can talk. But seriously-" I glance at Will as he stands by the drive-through window, talking to some honest brats from school. The queens of the school, pretty, popular, and rich. Very rich. "-what do I owe this pleasurable visit from the strange not-so-stranger?" I look back at the mystery man.
"I believe you have heard of the movie spies, like James Bond and Salt?" He tilts his glasses down on to his nose, like a chliched librarian.
"Phshh, of course! Who hasn't nowadays?" I wave my hands in the air, summoning my acting ability.
"And the CIA?"
"Uh-huh." I stare him down. "What are you getting at?"
"We need to talk to you about some very important matters." Important matters? Right now, they included my racing heartbeat, my growing adrenaline, my date with my current love, and the fact I really needed to go to the bathroom. The coffee justs goes right through you, I guess.
"I'm sure you are quite familiar with the unfortanate incident of 9/11, and the terrorists surrounding it, correct?"
"The Kennedy assassinations?"
"Lincoln and Garfield? McKinley?"
"And are you familiar with the touchy concept of conspiracy theories?"
"Yes! What are you getting at, Mr. Smithy?"
"I am a CIA agent. A spy, I guess you could say. I put terrorists and other opposing spies to bed at night."
"And?" I carefully concealed my interest and curiosity. I guess acting workshops do help when you don't think they will.
"Why don't you go home and bring your mother with us on a little drive?" I gulped. Seriously?
"O-okay. It'll take me a while to walk, though. And you'd better make it quick-" I glared at him and glanced back at Will, who was watching me. "-because I have a date with someone special tonight."
And with that, I got up and walked out the door, slinging my lacrosse bag on my back and grabbing my espresso.
So I started to walk back. When I got to the first crosswalk at an intersection, I heard a car behind me and turned around. Shocker- the weirdo from my uncle's coffee shop. I sighed and looked up. At least I wasn't wearing my cleats. The light was red, so I sprinted across the crosswalk and vaulted over a decorative wall, chucking my coffee into a trash can. It was empty, anyway. I continued to sprint until I reached my house and slammed the door shut behind me, hearing it lock upon impact. I swear that car was still behind me, although I thought I lost it at the light. My mother came rushing to the door wearing an apron and holding a wooden spoon. I wanted to laugh and cry. I ran to her and hugged her.
"Hush." She gave me a minute to catch my breath.
"T-there was this man at the coffee shop, and he followed me here. He says he's a CIA agent, and-"
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
And you could just guess who it was, couldn't you?