The Adventure of a Lifetime Read Free Page A

it was always mystery. “Have you ever read a Nancy Drew book?”
    â€œWell, no, but Amber—” Betty was cut off again.
    â€œI love realistic fiction. Amber is just so unrealistic. I mean, fighting dragons at the age of what, nine?” Peggy chuckled.
    Betty was deeply hurt. Amber was wonderful, so heroic, and so selfless.
    Peggy was wrong.
    Wrong, wrong, wrong.
    â€œOkay, Amber is not nine, she’s ten. That’s one whole year older than us. We can’t say bad things about her!” Betty exclaimed.
    â€œWhy not? You always say bad things about your older cousins,” Shelly pointed out.
    â€œBut that’s different!” Betty half-shouted, exasperated. The whole table turned to stare, and, while Betty seemed oblivious to the attention, Peggy and Shelly blushed deeply in embarrassment.
    â€œThis is Amber! Amber the Brave!” Betty stood up and threw away her lunch in a nearby trash can, even though she had barely touched it She stormed out of the lunchroom, feeling angry and betrayed. The room returned to its regular chaos, but Shelly whispered to Peggy, as if the cafeteria were as silent as a graveyard, “She does know Amber’s made up, right?”
    Peggy, who was biting into her apple and staring at Betty’s empty seat in disbelief, whispered back, “I hope so.”
    After lunch and recess, the class went back to their room to finish the last day of school. Betty was feeling considerably better, but she had still spent recess alone, and Peggy and Shelly didn’t try to cheer her up. They knew she would get over it eventually.
    The class cleaned out their desks, removing all the school supplies, papers, artwork, and the occasional treats from Mrs. Shumpridge that had been jammed inside without second thought. The room was filled with happy chatter—cleaning was way easier than math. For Betty though, it was mission impossible.
    And once again, she imagined herself as the heroic idol she wanted to be: Amber.
    Amber was looking for something. She had dropped the device in this drawer about a year ago. It was something the agency had given her, something to test out, yet it had seemed so pointless Amber hadn’t even tried. Now, though, she needed it.
    It was a flying disc, small and silver. The disc could nail anything or anyone from about a mile away.
    Amber looked back at the door. Professor Scorp had run out that very door a few seconds ago. He had taken something—something, that if exposed, would reveal her top secret agency. She needed to get the disc.
    She needed to stop him.
    Anxiously, she threw everything out of the drawer until her hand closed on the disc. It was brand new. Amber wondered why she hadn’t tried it. She tried to remember the day she had first seen it.
    It had been a Tuesday. The contraption had arrived in a box with no return address. Amber had opened it and grabbed the disc, slightly disappointed. It didn’t look special at all—more like a dog toy. She had looked back at all the other devices, so grand and helpful. The disk had ended up shoved in the back of the drawer, where Amber kept weird things like tools, half-eaten sandwiches, and useless presents that had accumulated over the years.
    That was before she found out it had razors.
    Professor Scorp had destroyed all the other devices, even the ones on her belt. This was her last chance.
    Amber glanced toward the door. Professor Scorp couldn’t have gone far.
    She whispered his name to the disc and threw it. She watched it soar through the air, the sun glinting on its clean metal.
    Suddenly, the razors shot out and the disc became engulfed in a hot crimson fire. Amber backed away, but it was not aiming towards her.
    â€œ Ow, ” someone cried.
    â€œBetty, what are you doing? ” Shelly asked her. Betty blinked twice.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œYou just threw your math notebook at me!” Shelly, said, rubbing her head.
    â€œOh, I am so