MY BEST FRIEND IS A SECRET AGENT, Book 2: How C.H.I.P. Took a Dive to Dash Dr. Eelstrom's Dreams of Dunking Vortville
After their first great adventure saving Vortville from the dreaded Freaky Fuzzies, Nort and Chip barely have a moment to breathe b...
I decided it was time to stop dreaming about Carla Mawhinney and actually talk to her.
As I walked down the hallway at school, I mapped out our whole conversation:
First, I'd show up at my locker at the exact same time Carla was opening hers. I'd compliment her on her hair or something she said in class or the charm things she hangs from her backpack.
Then, while pretending to look for a book in my locker, I'd "casually" take out my latest science fair First Prize trophy. And if I could do this during first nutrition break, the sun would shine in the windows at an exact thirty-seven-degree angle, glinting impressively off the trophy's polished chrome surface.
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Carla's eyes would sparkle in the reflected sunlight, and she would be so impressed with my knowledge of science that she would no doubt agree to anything I suggested. And that's when I'd invite her to a picnic by the lake.
Later, at Lake Vortville, I'd impress Carla even more with my knowledge of Pinkie's Covered Lake exhibit and maybe share a few manly fishing stories (leaving out the part where I didn't actually catch any fish).
And that's when she'd finally, finally see what a great guy I am. And maybe, just maybe, she'd close her eyes and lean in for a . . .
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There she was! And the timing was perfect—first nutrition break, sun shining through the window. I saw her heading for her locker, and I walked towards mine. We arrived together (Was this fate or what?), and we both opened our lockers.
But just when I was about to compliment her on her lunch box, the sun reflected off the mirror she had glued to the inside of her locker door and hit me in the eye! I had to hold my hands in front of my face to protect my eyes from the glare, so the only way I could see Carla was through my fingers.
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"Nort, are you okay?" Carla asked. Not exactly the way I'd planned our conversation to start, but then, I thought, maybe I could play the sympathy angle.
"It's just, my glasses refract direct sunlight like a magnifying glass." Bad move, bringing attention to my glasses, a symbol of one of my many weaknesses. So I decided to go in for the kill. "I was just looking for a book," I said, reaching into my locker for my science fair First Prize trophy. "Oh, here it is," I continued, pretending to find the book while holding up the trophy with my other hand.
And then Carla screamed. Was she so impressed with my trophy that she couldn't contain herself?
No.
The light reflecting off her makeup mirror now bounced off the concave front side of the trophy, focusing the beam like a laser. Sunlight shot into her eyes at ten times the intensity that it had shot into mine!
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"I can't see!" she cried, trying to shield her eyes from the piercing solar rays.
I shoved the trophy back into my locker just as Carla's two friends came to her aid. I think they took her to the school nurse's office to check her for permanent eye damage.
I felt awful. I had tried to impress a girl . . . and ended up laser-blasting her instead.
