Secret Identity

The moment I knew we were going on another posting, and my Father would be Ambassador again, I vowed to myself I would keep what my Father did a secret.

There are strange hierarchies in International Schools among diplomatic kids, so it’s best to just lie by omission.

I was 16, excited to be in an international school once again, having lasted 3 years in 2 different public schools back in the homeland, I was ready to be amongst people who understood once again.

When people asked why we had moved, I simply said my Father worked for the Embassy. No one asked what level, why would you. My Mother and I had arrived early to the posting, which meant we weren’t there on official capacity yet. I thought it was pretty brave of my Mother to arrive early, so that I could start school on time. Not having my Father there, meant she had to open everything up, including their bank account by herself.

Six weeks later, my Father arrived. We were so happy to be reunited, and out of the hotel. We went to the official residence where my dog finally arrived, and all of my stuff. I could finally have a room to myself, and have my dog back on my bed keeping me company once again.

At school, things seemed to be going well, no one knew my Father’s position. I was happy, I had made lots of friends and had even gone to a couple of parties. One day, I noticed a guy in the year ahead, he was working in our school office as a credit. I thought nothing of it, until he began to show up at my class and request me to leave to go to the office.

Only, there was no appointment at the office, he just wanted to introduce himself. I was never swift with the opposite sex, I never dated, and was usually too busy to notice.

 

One day, I came home and realized my parents were having their first reception. My Father was home, he had showered and dressed into another suit. My Mother was upstairs getting ready. There were a lot of people setting up tables with linens. I apparently was to make an appearance, as my Mother yelled down the hall for me to get dressed. I rarely made an appearance, in fact, my Father had a strict policy of not allowing my photo to be taken, and I was allowed to leave after 15 minutes. He had always said that it was not part of my job, only his.

I obliged, I got dressed and took my place beside my Father at the greeting line. I stayed for 45 minutes, then went back upstairs to finish my homework.

The next day, a couple of guys from the grade ahead smiled at me. I had no idea who they were. Then the fellow who worked at the office came strolling up to me.

“Hey, why didn’t you mention who your Father is?”

Me sarcastically “why does it matter, do you need a visa or something?”

He was a little stung. It turned out, he liked me and had looked up my address to come by and ask me out. The only problem, we were having a reception, there was extra security, and he was told to turn around for security purposes.

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