Your service and heroism has inspired me to commit my life to community, and I hope to one day join your ranks….
I run the words over and over in my head, their clarity resetting the hysteria in my head and helping me resume my mission. But after thirty more minutes of exploring, my search comes up fruitless. Fake fish in decorative nets laugh at me as my thoughts return to their usual question: Where are you, Warrior Nation? Please reveal yourself to me! I’m worthy, I swear!
My phone buzzes with a text:
Hi hon! How’s it going? Any luck yet?
Oh, Mom. She’s just as excited about this and almost called off work today to help me. But we can’t really afford a missed day of work, so I’ve been trying to live-text my progress.
Not yet, but I’m not giving up
Never cease, never cower!
Nice, the Warrior Nation creed. She’s the best. I can’t let her down.
I’ve poked my head through every porthole and looked for clues in every room, though…maybe there’s a trapdoor on the top of the boat? Actually, that would make sense! An entrance only a hero could spot from the air! It’s genius!
Two red ocean-liner funnels stare down at me, taunting me with possibility. A bold “DO NOT CLIMB” sign also stares me down, challenging my rule-following heart. Upholding a model-citizen status gives me another advantage for Warrior Nation recruitment, but even heroes have to break the rules sometimes in the pursuit of justice, right? I grab hold of a pole, sneakers screeching as I try to shinny up to the roof, which is more than challenging, seeing as how my physical abilities cannot compete with my academic prowess. My upper arms quiver in resistance, but after a couple pathetic attempts, I manage to pull myself onto the roof, only to find I’m not alone at the top.
“Hey!” a voice calls, and before I know it, an exceptionally strong girl is balling up the front of my sweaty tank in her fist, hoisting me an inch off the ground like it’s nothing. Her nose hovers just above mine as I screech in fear, her bright blue eyes squinting in disapproval. “Who are you? Who sent you? Are you part of the siege?”
Still catching my breath from my awkward climb, I gasp, “Do I look like a person who’s conducting a siege?” My toes dangle over the edge of the roof, and I grab her arms in desperation. I really don’t have time to break a limb today. “Please put me down!”
Brows pinched, she sneers. “Hmm, lucky for you I’m not supposed to apprehend suspects just yet.” Setting me down, she releases the death grip on my top and steps back to observe my trembling body with a smirk. “Besides, I don’t think a real siege against the city would involve a shrimpy teen girl.”
“Shrimpy?” I readjust my shirt over my admittedly lanky frame, pointing my chin up to give me some extra height. Who does this girl think she is? I mean, super-scary strength aside, she’s wearing a freaking jean jacket on the hottest day on earth and doesn’t even look like she’s dripping a drop. I’ll never understand people who don’t dress seasonally appropriate and yet don’t suffer the consequences, like Chicagoans who break out the flip-flops the second the snow melts. She stands there, extremely self-satisfied, with her non-sweaty long blond hair and smudge-free white shorts, and I immediately decide this girl embodies all the flawless, annoying popular people at school who float through life without ever having to face the problems we mortals do every day. Ugh. What is she even doing on top of this fake boat right now? Wait a minute…. “Why are you up here?”
Taken aback, she crosses her arms. “Why are you?”
Suddenly I freeze, the real stakes of this random encounter hitting me hard. There’s only one reason this wannabe badass is climbing around the North Ave beach house on the hottest day imaginable: She must be out for the internship too! NO! I won’t let her win.
“Something’s off about you…” the girl says, head tilting to the side as a golden curl falls over her shoulder. Her tanned skin shimmers in the sun, free of the red heat splotches my peachy arms and legs are covered in. Annoying. “You know something, don’t you?”
“I know lots of things, but I’m not telling you. Especially if you’re my competition!”
She laughs, crossing her arms. “Competition? I don’t think so. My spot is locked down.”