Free Write, 09/08/15

Prompt: Call me Alison, not that that’s my name.

Image via Flickr by voyageAnatolia.blogspot.com

“Call me Alison, not that that’s my name. You understand, secret agent stuff.” Alison, or whatever her real name was, flipped long auburn hair over one shoulder and grinned.

“Aren’t you a little young to be a secret agent?” Tyrone asked. “You can’t be much older than me. What are you, twelve, thirteen?”

“Fourteen, actually,” Agent Alison said, zipping up her leather jacket. “And I have a special dispensation from the government because I’m a genius.”

“Humble, too.”

“Shut up.”

“And subtle. It took you all of what? Three minutes to tell me that you’re a secret agent. What kind of secret agent does that?”

“The smart kind. Do you believe I’m a secret agent?”

“Nope.”

“And therein lies my genius.”

A slight smile curled Tyrone’s lips. “Do you want to go to the library with me after class?”

Agent Alison grinned again. “I’m afraid I cannot. I’ll be in Russia, stopping a nuclear missile launch by the time school ends.”

“I’m not sure you’ll get credit for that. How will  you ever pass eighth grade?”

Agent Alison sighed. “That is one of the main draw backs of being a secret agent: one never gets credit.”

With that, Agent Alison strode to a motorcycle parked along the gravel drive in front of the red brick school building.

“I don’t think you should be driving that!” Tyrone called after her. “You don’t even have a driver’s license yet!”

“Don’t need one,” Alison called back. “I have a secret agent license. When you have a license to kill, the government lets you do pretty much anything else you want to.”

Tyrone just shook his head, watching as the young woman strapped a full faced helmet over her fly away hair and turned the ignition. Then something strange happened. Wings unfolded from the sides of the bike. Alison revved the engine a few times, then took off, gaining speed for a short distance on the road before taking to the sky.

“Well, I’ll be darned,” Tyrone said.