Back to school. Long days of mindless absorption after a weekend. Nothing interesting, right?
Wrong. School is always interesting when it takes place at your best friend's new and improved house.
Yes, Sydney's house suddenly became a private school. Each room became ten times larger, and an upstairs was built on for a mysterious new addition. Her mom and dad's room became the dorm room for girls, each inhabitant having a fluffy, queen-sized bed of their own.
Lunchtime. My sister and I made our way through their house, coming to a line of people leading upstairs. We decided to skip the line to see what the commotion was about. We did not expect to find a brand new, luxurious kitchen to be built on. Everything seemed to be made of marble and gold. The tables were made of glass, spaced out over the whole room.
The line stretched all around the room; there was only one lunch line, a mistake on the builder's part. Over in the corner, though, Kelly and I saw a large window revealing school buses and students getting on. We knew they were leaving the "campus" for lunch, to McDonald's specifically. We rushed over to the doors but were stopped by teachers. They pointed out purple slips that we needed to leave the campus. The McDonalds's was right across the street, but we didn't asked questions.We were in the middle of signing them when we noticed a friend, Melissa, taking Sydney and her twin, Jennifer, out to eat in her truck. We questioned whether or not they had the purple slips and realized it wasn't worth the effort: the line for food was gone now and lunch was almost over. We hurried to the carts.
Then I woke up, and I fell asleep.
I was a secret agent, and I had a mission: to secure Zuko and sneak him to Katara (Nickelodeon's characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender) so they could live happily ever after. The problem? The mission was on the night Zuko was expected to be at an extravagant ball hosted by his father.
My mission guide, an unseen man, sent me the coordinates to his family's house: two blue houses north, one red house east. He kept repeating this to me as I rode down the streets, but he really didn't need to. The family's house was an oriental palace, standing 5 or 6 stories higher than all the surrounding houses.
My guide expected me to have to sneak in, but upon ringing the doorbell, I was warmly welcomed in as a guest. The entrance hall itself was huge, leading into a ginormous ballroom, filled with dancing figures and conversing party-goers. Slowly, but surly, I uncharacteristically was able to flirt my way to the upstairs, much to the surprise of my mission guide.
Maids littered the hallways, gossiping about and trash-talking the guests downstairs, complaining about messes in different rooms and this and that. I remained invisible to them, learning that the bedrooms were all in the same hall on the third floor. I hastily made my way up, dodging the frequent couples protruding from guest rooms.
The parents' bedroom laid at the end of the hall, elegant with no decorations. Beside it, another door stood, with drawings of dinosaurs and rocketships: Zuko's little brother (a character my mind created outside the show). Across from the boy's room was another door without decorations, but on the floor lied various weapons: Obviously Azula's room.
Away from the other rooms nearest the stairs was my objective: Zuko's room. He should be in there, getting ready to flee.
Without hesitation, I barged in, readying myself for whatever might happen.
I was met with an empty room. On the large bed in the corner, a stuffed luggage bag laid open. The dresser's drawers were pulled out and empty. Randomly placed, all kinds of rocking horses sat around the room, some with bright pink Mohawks, others oriental or traditional.
I knew he was ready to run away.
I went back downstairs to search for my target. Instead, I ended up in the presence of his father, the Firelord, and chatted with him until he dismissed me.
As soon as I could, I ran back upstairs to retrieve Zuko. But he still wasn't there. This time, neither was his luggage bag. Turns out, I had distracted his father and officials long enough for him to make his getaway.
I retreated to the roof of the palace, producing a long rope to escape with. I hurried down, ending up in a classroom.
This had been a test all along; a test that I had aced and received a giant certificate for being a spy with a big red 100 on it.
I gloated about the classroom with it and then woke up.
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