“RRRRRIIIIINNNNNGGGGG!” I sleepily slammed my hand on my alarm to set it to snooze. It rung again.
The sound was drilling its way into my head and demolishing my dream.
“Ugh,” I groaned with utter frustration as I dragged myself out of bed to inspect my alarm clock.
I flicked on the lights and turned off my alarm. “Another great start, to another great day!” I said with sarcasm.
I went to the bathroom to take a shower, brush my teeth, and do my hair. Afterwards, I put on my “snazzy” school uniform. A navy blue and dark green plaid skirt, white knee socks, a long sleeved white dress shirt, a navy blue wool vest, and for my own special touch, a small blue bow. I looked at myself in the mirror and adjusted my bow.
“Good,” I said, then walked out the door. I hurried down the stairs, and picked up the first piece of fruit I saw.
I bit out of the juicy red apple and hollered to my mom, “Bye, see you after school.”
“Okay, have fun.” my mother yelled. I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. From outside I heard the motor of the school bus, and like a bird, I flew down the front steps right into the bus.
The school bus has a smell that is unique in its own special way. It’s like an aroma of moldy bread,cheap perfume, dirty gym clothes,chewed up gum, spoiled fruit, and some weird smell that you can’t put in words. It was also very musty and hot on the bus. I had to fan myself, with my overdue math homework, to keep from overheating. I looked around the bus for an empty seat.
“Whizzzz,” I ducked to avoid a flying spit ball.
“Alex, over here!” I looked around for the familiar voice.
I finally saw my friend Jess. She was my a friend, my best friend, and the only normal person who knew my secret.

“Hey, how was your weekend? Was that dinner as boring as you thought it would be?” I genuinely asked Jess.
She rolled her eyes and responded, “My weekend? Just great. That dinner. Worst than I expected. The guests were like a hundred years old and they drooled on their clothes.”
“Ew,” I shuddered.
We laughed together. Jess was like my sister. After my dad died six years ago, I learned to depend on her too. Instead of just my mom.
“Uhhhh,” I tapped my leg rapidly, “Oh yeah. English. Do we have a test today?”
“Yeah, Why? Wait, let me guess. You didn’t study, did you.” Jess said.
She knew me so well, It was a little scary sometimes.
“Yep. Not at all.” I said with ease.
“Does it even occur to you that you get graded for all your missing assignments and failed tests?”
“What does it matter? You know this school is just my cover.”
She dropped the topic and just stared out the window. Jess is just that kind of person who has do everything right. She acts, plays sports, gets straight A+’s, is super nice, and she’s an amazing spy. Me? I just do what I think is important. English. No. Science. No. Math. No. So for now Mildred Prep is just another waste of time.

We stepped off the bus into the sea of kids going to homeroom. We were swept away and carried by the current right into Mr. Pete’s classroom. The bell rung and we all took our seats.
Mr. Pete straightened his tie and cleared his throat. “Hello class. I hope you will enjoy your Monday”
From that moment on my day went downhill quickly. We had an English exam first period and as expected I got a zero. Then I got lectures in second, third, fourth, and fifth period. Math: dividing integers, Science: the stages of mitosis, Art: the history of red paint, and Social Studies: the fall of the roman empire. To some kids those lectures might have been interesting, but for me it was so boring that I drew a whole comic on when Mr. Pete opened his desk to find a tarantula. I looked at my blue G-shock watch. Five minutes until the end of the day. Five minutes until I was free. Five minutes until I could be the real me. My watch slowly ticked on. Each second felt like minute. And at one point I thought that If I turned the hands of my watch forward the time would speed up.
“Five, Four, Three, Two, One!” I whisper yelled.
I was free. I race out of the classroom. Not caring what homework our teacher could have assigned. I hurried to my locker and snatched my backpack. I looked back and forth for Jess. I saw many head coming out of class, but I finally saw a tiny redhead and ran over.
“Hurry up Jess! We got to go!” I urged.
“Okay, okay I’m coming,” she insisted.
I grabbed her by the hand and we sprinted out the front doors of the school. We keep sprinting, heading to the only place I felt like I belonged.

The cool breeze blew my hair in my face as Jess and I ran down Drivet Street towards TSISS. This was my favorite place to be. This was where people like me could be themselves and do what they like. I slowed to a stop when I saw the grand gates that let you into the building.
To the rest of the world this building was abandoned. Then a hundred years ago a family from Switzerland bought the place and made it nicer. That story is true, but it left out some big details. Like the family added all the latest security equipment. They made the place a school. And most importantly, the school is for spies in training. One detail that I didn’t mention is that Jess and I are the only kids at the school. I, was only admitted because my dad was a spy.
You might ask, “Alex were you surprised your dad was a spy?
The answer would be, not really because my dad was always very secretive and he always left on long business trips without a good reason why. Actually, finding out he was a spy filled in a lot of answer blanks in my life. And Jess, you know how I said she was good at everything? I wasn’t kidding. The first time I tried to lie to her, I told her I joined a softball team that plays everyday after school. She didn’t believe me. However, she played along and followed me after school. She found out where I was really going and the rest was history. We became the first child spies in training.
We walked straight up to the gate and it scanned our irises. The machine made some strange gurgling noises then it beeped twice. The large gates opened like they did everyday, but each day I thought it got cooler. Together my best friend and I strode in.

The inside of the school was magnificent! My mouth agape in aww as we walked to room 5B. I come here everyday, but I can’t help being awestruck by the building’s greatness. All the world’s top spies were trained here and I was now becoming one. We finally got to the room and I knocked on the door. It creaked open.

“Weird,” I thought to myself, as I stepped into the pitch black room cautiously. It was quiet, too quiet. The wind whistles by my ear as I dodged an object. I felt a sharp jab to my gut, the pain rushing up my body causing me to feel sick to my stomach. I couldn’t see, but that didn’t matter. I punched blindly in the air, hitting nothing. I tried again with a kick, and got a rewarding grunt to whoever thought it was funny to play this prank.
“Jess the lights!” I yelled to her. The lights flicked on and I went in total commando mode. I was too quick to catch. Too fast to see. My punches and kicks flying so fast if you blinked you would miss it. I bombarded the prankster with rapid punches, until I was on top of him with my foot on his chest.
“Nice job girls, but could you get off of me.” the prankster muttered. Which I soon identified as my spy history teacher.
“I’m sorry, I thought this was some kind of test.” I blushed and said. He was the only teacher in the school without field training. I reached out and helped him up.
“I had just come in here to tell all of class 29 that your classes had been moved to room 8D. I had walked in to wait for you guys and the lights went off unexpectedly. I tried to turn the lights back on, but I tripped and my pencil flew out of my hand,” he confessed.
“Oh, I thought you were trying to attack me, but can I ask you one more question?”
“Sure anything. Ask away. I’m an open book.”
“Why did you punch me?” I rubbed my bruised ribs.
“Well, when I heard the door open I got nervous. Whenever I’m alone the other teachers sometimes like to prank me. So when you walked in...”
“You thought I was one of them and you were trying to protect yourself.”
“Sure lets go with that answer. So off you go to 8D.”
“Yep, and sorry again.” I walked out of the room and hurried to 8D.
“Uhhh. I’m such a clutz!” I thought out loud.
“It’s okay, Alex. Let’s just hurry. We can’t be late for spy attitude class.” Jess said. She grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs.

We got to class late, and all the other students were already in the classroom. However, when we snuck in our teacher was too involved with his lecture on how to get information secretly to notice. We took seats in the back of the class and got out paper to take notes with. An average day at spy school is long. I mean like really long. So long you feel as if time is slowing down to a stop. The difference between regular school and spy school is that when you come to spy school you never want the lessons to end. In a normal day I’ll go to three classes on weekdays and six classes on weekends. The classes you can take are: spy history, code cracking, martial arts, spy attitude, weapons, language, and field training. Jess and I are allowed to take all the classes except for weapons because the headmaster claims we’re too young to handle a gun. I, beg to differ.
When I was younger my father took me to a part of the country, in the woods, where no one had ever been. He handed me a gun and spoke to me.

“Shoot it Alex. Give it a try.” I held the gun awkwardly, afraid of its power.

“Try to shoot that bird, over there” He pointed out to me. I handled the gun carefully and aimed for the bird. I tracked its movement with my eyes, studying the pattern of its flight. Not letting my target leave my sight, I got ready to go in for the kill. My hands felt like they were being controlled by someone else. I lined up the gun and pulled the trigger.
The woods erupted in chaos as the bird I was trying to shoot, from forty feet away, fell from the sky to the floor. I was too stunned to react. My father, he was a different story.
“Alex, that was amazing. You have some serious aim.” he congratulated me. Then we shared a victory high five. Some people think that my father was very irresponsible to let his five year old daughter shoot a handgun. To me that was just one of the reasons my dad was so much cooler than other dads. Fun,creative, and on the edge.
To conclude my theory, I definitely believe I should be able to use a gun.

After spy attitude class. I had language and martial arts. After all my classes were done, I texted my mom.
“Hey mom, softball is over and I’m coming home” Okay, you probably want an explanation on why I just told my mom I was at softball. Well, when I found out my father was a spy she didn’t. My father’s will only allowed me to find out. So I’m not allowed, under any circumstance, to tell my mom my father was a spy.
“Being a spy was so cool. I could be everything I wanted. Quick and stealthy. Smart in what I thought mattered. And mysteriously unique.” I thought to myself as I started to walk out of the building with Jess.
I thought as a spy I was ready for anything. I could do anything I wanted to accomplish. In a way, I was indestructible. I had never felt so wrong. I was walking past the headmaster’s office when I turned the corner. Heading home, I heard the words that made my heart stop.
“Rich, Alex’s father is still alive.”