Copyright © 2013 by Ravina Thakkar
Cover and internal design © 2013 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover design by Rose Audette
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Cover
Chapter 1
Standing on the ledge of the mountain, Amber knew what she had to do. She took a deep breath, jumped off the mountain, and went flying into the air, landing straight in a—
“Betty! You have to put your book away. It’s bedtime,” Betty’s mom called from downstairs.
“Mom, I’m at a really good part! Just a few more minutes, please? Amber just jumped off a mountain, and who knows where she’s going to land!” Betty pleaded.
Betty’s mom strode into the room, took the book away, and set it firmly on the dresser beside her as an answer to Betty’s question.
If it wasn’t clear before, Betty loved reading, and her favorite books were adventure stories. All the action, all the excitement—every moment was a new journey. Betty dreamed of the day she might go on an expedition, just like the characters in her books. However, unlike those heroes and heroines, who were always saving the world, Betty had a boring life (or so she felt). The characters in the book she was reading, Amber the Brave, faced risks on every page. Why couldn’t her life be the same?
Betty had gotten hooked on Amber, the heroine of Amber the Brave, the day she had seen the display in the bookstore. In big red letters it had said “Want Adventure? Get the First Book in The Greatest Adventure Series in History!” When she read that, Betty had heard trumpets blaring and people clapping, and she knew she just had to read the book.
But even Betty knew that when her mom made her put her book aside it was really time for bed. Her mom kissed her good night, flicked off the lights, and padded back down the stairs. Meanwhile, Betty was wide awake in the dark room. It was hard to fall asleep when such a tempting book lay next to her, mere inches away. Betty twirled her dark brown hair around her finger. It was already tangled, and Betty knew she shouldn’t be making it worse, but it was a habit of hers that was hard to break. Besides, she was trying to keep her mind off the book. It wasn’t working. She slipped her finger out of her curl and touched her new dangly green earrings. She’d forgotten to take them out before going to bed. They tugged a bit on her ears, but that was okay. Even though Betty was only nine years old, she already contemplated how she should dress and what each piece of clothing or accessory said about her.
Betty sighed and stood up to look in the mirror. The room was dark, but she could still see her reflection. She carefully removed her dangly earrings so they wouldn’t get tangled in her hair while she slept. Then she gave her reflection a smile. She would need glasses soon—having her nose buried in a book wasn’t the best for her eyes—but for the time being, Betty enjoyed looking at her hazel eyes and making different faces, as if she were posing for a camera. This time, her eyes widened and she scrunched up her nose and pursed her lips, looking angry. As she continued to look in the mirror, Betty realized her fair skin was a little tan, and summer vacation hadn’t even started.
Betty sat down on her bed. She wasn’t sleepy. Her mom was gone. The book was there…
She had never read under the covers before, which was a surprise even to her. She’d read about people doing it, but then something horrible would happen to them the same night. That’s one big reason why Betty had never wanted to take chances by reading a book at night, with only a small light for company. However, today she felt she could—she had to. The book was good, really good, and Betty just couldn’t wait till tomorrow to read it. She needed a penlight.
Slipping off her bed, Betty went outside into the hall. The double doors of her parents’ room were closed. Were they watching a movie? Already sleeping? It didn’t matter. She was on a mission.
Shh! Shh! Betty reminded herself, as she went down the hardwood stairs, making her way to the kitchen. She was sure she was making as much noise as an elephant stampede, and she prayed her parents wouldn’t hear her.
Betty tried to recall if she had seen a penlight in the junk drawer—which was exactly what it sounded like: a drawer full of odds and ends that had slowly built up after three or four years. It was rarely cleaned—the job was too scary. The drawer always held lots of papers, pencils, pens, cords, locks, expired coupons, and, Betty thought to herself, the occasional penlight.
“Betty, what are you doing? You’re supposed to be in bed. You do still have one more day of school, you know.”
Betty froze. Her mom and dad stood in front of her in the kitchen. She didn’t know what they were doing down here, but either way, Betty couldn’t get the penlight now. She would have to do some fast thinking. Her eyes darted to the water dispenser.
“Cup of water,” she said. “My mouth felt dry.”
With her parents watching her, Betty grabbed a glass and poured some cold water from the dispenser. The trickle of water was the only sound in the room, and Betty felt nervous. She had been caught. Bye-bye penlight!
“Mmm…Delicious!” Betty said as she gulped the water down.
Her mom eyed her suspiciously and her dad raised an eyebrow. Betty tried to hide her guilty expression.
“Back to bed!”
And with that, Betty trudged upstairs.
Trying to get a penlight and failing had been the most exciting thing that had happened to Betty all day. And, if you asked her, that was pretty sad.
Chapter 2
Betty saw herself: brave, heroic, her hair flying in the wind. She looked fierce and so experienced—a person who could fight three tigers at the same time, without any trouble at all, and maybe even do it better than Amber.
She was standing on top of a tall mountain. She couldn’t tell what lay below, but she wanted to jump off and land there. Why? Even Betty didn’t know. The mountain she was standing on looked like a piece of scenery you would find on a kid’s art canvas; a few jagged edges and a snowcapped peak above the rest of the dark gray slopes. Betty didn’t care though—with her hair whirling around her and a defiant look on her face, she might as well have been on Mount Everest. In this moment, she could do anything.
Even jump off a mountain.
With a deep breath, she spre
ad her arms. Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Betty jumped. The wind slapped her face and the sun warmed her bare feet—she had no clue why they were bare, her subconscious was extremely weird—and she heard people in the background chanting: “Betty! Betty!”
Then, just a single voice rang loudly in her ear.
“Betty!”
Betty opened her eyes. It was all a dream. Just a dream. She wasn’t courageous at all. She wasn’t like Amber and she couldn’t fight three tigers. She couldn’t even fight one. Sighing, Betty tried to drift off again. “Must jump,” she mumbled, and had almost fallen asleep before her comforter was ripped off. That should’ve been okay, because it was summer, and there really was no need for a comforter. Yet it was almost a tradition to pull the comforter back up—Betty and her mom did this routine every morning.
Therefore, Betty firmly pulled the comforter up to her neck.
“Betty, get up! You slept in for twenty minutes! Hurry or you’ll be late for school!” Betty’s mom was shaking her awake. With one quick motion, she yanked the blanket to the end of the bed.
Less confident that she would be jumping off a mountain, Betty wasn’t sure whether she should get out of bed.
“I’m tired!” Betty tried to sit up, but her head ended up hitting the pillow. She pulled at her comforter once again. But with a hard tug, her mom quickly pulled it all the way off the bed. Blanket in hand, her mom left the room, warning Betty to get up and get ready for school.
Betty slowly got out of bed and staggered to her feet. Even though she was on her bedroom carpet, Betty still felt like she was on a mountain, about to jump to her possible death. Mountains—she still wanted to leap off and be carefree like Amber.
And suddenly she was living the dream again—her flying hair, the snowy mountain, the urge to jump. But it was only for a moment. And then she was Betty again, knowing that if she jumped off a mountain, she’d be in a hospital by the end of the day. She wouldn’t stay miraculously unhurt, like Amber, and her mom would be lecturing her about safety.
Maybe, she’d actually live it one day though. Maybe.
Ha, right.
Still groggy, Betty changed into a striped T-shirt and really short shorts that she had begged her mom to buy. Her best friends, Peggy and Shelly, the twins, would totally be jealous of her. Their mom never let them wear short shorts. They had to be Bermuda shorts or they’d go in the trash.
Now—hair. Betty looked at the bird’s nest on top of her head. She loved her hair when it was wet, because it was untangled and clean.
Betty made an attempt to comb it, but to no avail. Dropping her enemy—the hairbrush—she and her bedhead wandered into the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth. Upon returning to her room, she looked longingly at her bed and thought about getting back in for a little more dreaming. No, she told herself, then hobbled down the stairs.
“Betty! The bus comes at eight-thirty—you have five minutes! Here, I got some cereal out. Eat quickly!” her mom said, as she eyed Betty’s shorts disdainfully. But with only five minutes left, she didn’t make a comment about them.
Yet when Betty slumped down in the kitchen chair, she took out her book.
“Betty! You’re going to miss the bus!” Her mom said in a panic as she entered the kitchen two minutes later. “Why are you reading?” She yelled in frustration.
Betty wasn’t listening. She was engrossed in the book and Amber’s fight with the crocodile dragons—half-crocodile, half-dragon creatures. Their bodies were the shape of a crocodile’s, but they also had wings. They were fine in the water and air, but the ground burned them and turned them into dust. She was just about to turn the page and finish the chapter, when a hand reached out and grabbed the book. Betty finally looked at the time. She had less than thirty seconds to put on her gym shoes, get outside, and run all the way to the bus stop down the street.
Betty swung her backpack over her shoulder and raced down the driveway, but tripped on her untied shoelaces. She landed right on the burning pavement, her cheek experiencing high levels of heat as it made contact. Betty pushed herself up and then tucked her shoelaces inside her shoes.
Seconds later, the bus zoomed by. Betty waved her hands, shouted, and chased after the bus, but it didn’t stop. It continued to Betty’s stop down the street. She picked up her pace and ran so fast her PE teacher would have given her a standing ovation. But she was too late. Fumes of exhaust from the engine were all that remained.
Frustrated and angry with herself, Betty started walking home to ask her mom if she could get a ride to school, even though she knew she would receive a lecture in the car. Before she made it back to her driveway, a familiar silver minivan pulled up next to her. The window rolled down and Betty saw her friends’ Peggy and Shelly’s mom, Mrs. Asdern.
“Hi, Mrs. Asdern,” Betty said, collecting herself and keeping her voice from shaking as she wiped small tears of frustration from her eyes.
A tall lady with a dark complexion sat in the driver’s seat. Her chocolate brown hair was newly cut into a bob, Betty observed. Hazel eyes stared down at her, concerned. This was, of course, Mrs. Asdern, but at that moment, she was more than that. It was like she was a superhero who magically appeared when Betty needed help most. Betty envisioned her flying through the air with a silver cape, saying, in a deep booming voice: “I’ll save you!” She half-giggled at the thought and then remembered she was supposed to be angry.
“What are you doing, Betty? You’re supposed to be at school,” Mrs. Asdern asked. Her voice was as honey-like as always, and Betty’s booming voice seemed more unrealistic than ever in comparison.
“I missed the bus,” Betty said, her head drooping.
“How?”
“Amber.”
“Amber?”
“Yes.”
“Listen, Betty, I’ve been there before. But you’re here—you survived! So don’t worry! It’s behind you. Anyway, let me drive you to school.”
Betty got in quietly. What in the world was Mrs. Asdern talking about?
The whole ride, Mrs. Asdern peppered her with questions: “How did you get there? Would you go back? Isn’t Amber so mean in the beginning? How many times did you almost die?”
Betty didn’t know Mrs. Asdern was such a fan of the Amber books. It sounded like there might be a video game available now. She would have to check it out later. And after all those questions, Betty was relieved when she arrived at school.
Betty wanted to think about what Mrs. Asdern had said, but realized she had to make it to her classroom first.
The school itself was a plain brown brick building. Not exciting at all. Betty was dropped off in the front of the building, the side that had the school name, Snowdrop Elementary, in bold icy blue letters. Personally, Betty didn’t like the name “Snowdrop.” It only snowed a quarter of the year, and wasn’t it harder to get to school when it snowed? Betty ignored the thought and threw open the glass double doors. As she ran through the halls, she took a quick peek at a clock through the door of a classroom. 8:53 a.m. Betty had only two minutes to get to her classroom before the bell rang. She would never make it.
Suddenly, Betty imagined she was Amber.
She was running out of time. She had to get out of the professor’s building, where he had deliberately decided to plant a bomb. The professor had escaped unharmed, but had locked all the exits so Amber couldn’t get out. She glanced at her watch. 8:54 a.m. Amber turned to face the bomb—she only had a minute left. It was time to hurry.
Amber didn’t know what to do, but then she saw her jetpack, which the professor had confiscated and put next to the time bomb. He must’ve forgotten to take it—that, or he didn’t think Amber would escape from the cage he had put her in—a solid gray metal one, locked with a dozen chains. That sounded like the professor was underestimating her and thinking himself to be superior.
Amber r
aced over to the time bomb to get her jetpack, feeling like the more she ran, the farther away the jetpack became. The time bomb began counting down. Ten, nine, eight, seven…Amber flung herself at the chrome jetpack. Two pieces of machinery that looked like rocket blasters were held together by…what? Even Amber didn’t know—she didn’t create the new technology; she just tested it. Right now, she had to hurry. No time to dawdle over machine parts. She could look at that later, assuming that she and her jetpack made it out of the building in time. Four, three, two, one! Amber used all her energy to force open a large gaping hole in the wall, bursting through just as a loud siren blared. Looking back, she saw a hemisphere-shaped building clouded by smoke and fire. Amber knew that the professor would think she was dead, which was perfect. She could come back and surprise him—that is, if he lived that long. He had reached the old age of ninety-nine, so Amber knew he was going to drop dead any day now.
Amber laughed to herself. And then she heard some giggles.
Giggles?
Reality came rushing back to Betty. She realized there were twenty-six pairs of eyes staring at her as she stood at the front of the class. Meekly, she put her backpack away and sat down with a sigh of relief—she had made the bell. Peggy and Shelly gave her questioning looks, but Betty’s head was bent over her desk, not wanting to make eye contact.
Chapter 3
Betty’s classroom was a perfect square. She pretended to be more interested in this shape than in Peggy and Shelly, who were watching her closely. She didn’t want to tell them she had missed the bus because of Amber. They weren’t big Amber fans, and just wouldn’t understand how a book could make you late.
Betty’s teacher, Mrs. Shumpridge, went to the front of the room and clapped her hands. “Settle down, class. I know it’s the last day of school but we still have much to do. Our schedule is a bit different today, so I hope you pay attention. At the end of the day we’ll sign yearbooks, but for now we will have ten minutes of silent reading.”
The Adventure of a Lifetime Page 1
