by Luke Sharpe
We stop in front of a wooden door. I can feel the butterflies in my stomach—my leg starts to twitch too, which sometimes happens when I’m anxious.
Mom knocks on the door.
“What’s the password?” booms a deep voice from inside the room.
I wait for my mom to bust out another code.
“Open the door, Xavier,” Mom calls out, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
“Do you have your tickets?” the voice comes back.
“This is not the ballpark, Xavier,” Mom says. “It’s a dorm room. Open the door.”
A few seconds later the door swings open, and there stands my roommate. Or, I should say, towers my roommate. According to Mom, he’s a year older than me, but he’s at least a foot taller. And he looks like he just stepped off the cover of a sports magazine. He’s got muscles everywhere. He’s got so many muscles, I almost don’t even notice his Hyenas T-shirt. The Hyenas are my favorite baseball team. But this guy looks like he should be playing for them, not wearing their T-shirt!
“Xavier, I’d like you to meet—”
Before Mom can finish introducing me, her phone beeps with an incoming message.
“ACK!” she exclaims. “I’m sorry, Billy, I have an emergency situation I have to deal with.” Then she mutters really quickly—something about Agent Paul. Without another word, she turns and races down the hall.
I smile at Xavier, wondering if he can tell how nervous I am.
“Hi, I’m Billy Sure. Nice to meet you,” I say.
Xavier looks me up and down. “So, you’re the great inventor, huh?” he says. Then he snorts. The sound is somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, but I’m not sure which.
I ignore his snort and walk into the room. The walls on Xavier’s side are covered with sports posters—baseball, football, basketball, and hockey, all with players making spectacular moves. Each person on the posters looks as muscular as Xavier. In fact, one of them might even be Xavier!
My side of the room, on the other hand, is bare. There’s a small bed, a desk, a dresser, and some blank cinder-block walls. I wish I’d brought some pictures with me. Maybe the photo of me and Manny next to the All Ball could make this dorm room a little cheerier.
“So, you’re a Hyenas fan?” I ask Xavier, in an attempt at some kind of conversation. “I am too. In fact, I’m friends with Carl Bourette.” Carl Bourette, the Hyenas’ shortstop, is a big fan of Sure Things, Inc. He even guest starred on our TV special to find Sure Things’ Next Big Thing, which was awesome!
“Uh-huh,” Xavier says. Then he sits at his desk and starts writing.
“What are you working on?” I ask.
“Code breaking,” Xavier replies. “It’s one of the classes you’ll—well, the real spies in training, I mean—take.”
At least he answered me. Still, he doesn’t seem too friendly.
I sit on my bed and stare at the blank wall. I thought I’d be spending time with Mom, but she’s hardly been around. I thought I’d be inventing immediately, but it looks like that’s not happening. And Xavier doesn’t seem to be too pleased that he’s stuck with me as a roommate.
I’ll admit it. Aside from meeting Josh, Morgan, and Drew, Spy Academy has just been a confusing blur.
I decide to do something other than sit around and feel sorry for myself. I open my bag, pull out my laptop, and type out an e-mail to Manny. I wish I had more to say, but since I’m not in Barbados and I can’t describe anything where I am, the e-mail is pretty short.
Hi partner,
Just got to Barbados. Miss you. Hope school and work are good, and things are okay with Emily.
—Billy
I hit send and wait for the reply.
• • •
A few hours later, when dinnertime rolls around, there’s still no response from Manny. Which is weird, because if I know Manny, he is on his smartphone 24-7. Part of me feels a little jealous—what is Manny doing that’s better than answering e-mails from his business partner and best friend?
To top it off, I notice that Xavier has left the room. I must have taken a nap and didn’t hear him go, and it’s not like he said good-bye or anything. He certainly didn’t ask me if I wanted to sit with him at dinner. I’m hungry, so I get up out of bed and head toward the dining room . . . alone. I’ve never been super popular at school (even being super famous), but I’ve always at least had Manny on my side.
Thankfully, as soon as I walk into the dining room, I hear my name.
“Hey, Billy! Over here. Come sit with us.”
I look across the room and see Drew waving to me. He’s sitting at a table with Josh and Morgan. His smile is big and toothy, and I instantly feel at ease.
“Thanks, Drew,” I say, dragging over a chair from another table. “I’ll grab some food and be right back.”
Okay, so maybe my roommate situation isn’t great, and my best friend is ignoring my e-mails, but at least I have three new friends!
As I push my tray along the food line, my spirits start to pick up. I remember a conversation I had with my cousin when I visited him at college. He told me that it’s not a terrible thing if your roommate is not your pal, as long as you have good friends at school. Drew’s invitation turns my whole mood around.
The food in the cafeteria is amazing. It’s not normal cafeteria food, like mac and cheese or chicken fingers (even though chicken fingers aren’t really “normal” food, either—everyone knows CHICKEN FINGERS DAY is the best at Fillmore, so people go kind of crazy). Anyway, the theme of the night is breakfast for dinner, and the food has names like “exploding eggs” and “self-destruct cereal.”
“Why do they call them ‘exploding eggs’?” I ask when I return to the table. I scoop up my first forkful of eggs and wait for my new friends’ explanation.
Suddenly, Drew jumps up and tries to whisk my fork away, but he’s too late. All of a sudden, there’s a pop! and the eggs EXPLODE!
Morgan sighs.
“Spies always have to be on their toes and think fast,” she says. “There’s no hesitation allowed. Watch.”
Without even asking me if it’s okay, and wasting no time, Morgan grabs a fork and shoves some of my exploding eggs into her mouth. Or at least I think she does. One second a forkful of food is on my plate, the next second it’s gone.
Morgan really is like a ninja!
I try to imitate Morgan, but I just make a mess of things. Drew and Josh can’t stop laughing at the literal egg on my face.
“You ready for classes tomorrow, Billy?” asks Josh as the last bite of my food pops away.
“I guess,” I reply. “When my mom asked me to come here to help invent something, I never thought I’d actually be studying real spy stuff.”
“It’s really fun,” says Drew. “I love analyzing evidence and practicing surveillance techniques. I even love interrogating bad guys. Scratch that. I really love interrogating bad guys!”
“Will we really do that?” I ask.
“Most of the time they bring in an actor to pretend to be an enemy spy,” Drew explains. “They give him a fake secret which we have to get out of him.”
“Or her,” Morgan says quietly.
Morgan is really interesting. She appears to like hanging out with these two, yet she doesn’t really try to be part of any conversation. Until times like now, when she speaks up.
“Drew’s right,” she continues. “Usually they bring in an actor to play the bad guy, but every once in a while, when real agents are working on a case, they toss in a real bad guy.”
Is she saying this just to scare me? I don’t really know, but she seems excited when she says it.
“Really?” I ask.
“Really,” she replies, flashing the warmest, most genuine smile I’ve seen her show in the little time I’ve known her. She is an odd one, all right.
“I can’t wait to see the invention lab,” I admit, trying to steer the conversation toward something I’m a little more comfortable with. After
all, my mission is to create the Spy Dye. I haven’t even started on the blueprints! “Have you guys ever been in there?”
“Not me,” says Josh. “I’m strictly a computer geek. You’ll find me in the computer lab working away. If only I could read computers’ minds!”
“Actually, I work in the invention lab,” says Drew. “It’s pretty cool. It has everything you might need to invent stuff. And, if I must say so myself—”
“You must,” Morgan chimes in, “because no one else will.”
“Ah, yeah, what I was going to say,” Drew continues, “is that I’ve dabbled a bit with inventing. I’ve had some modest success. I’d love to see your work once you get rolling in the lab, Billy. If that’s okay, of course.”
“Sure,” I say, although I don’t really know what I’m getting myself into, working in a strange lab with parts that I didn’t gather, away from the comfort of my own workbench. “As soon as I figure out what I’m doing, you’re welcome to come take a look.”
Drew smiles. The table gets quiet. I finish my dessert—erupting lava cake, which is delicious but also scary—and realize how sleepy I am.
“Well, guys, it’s been a long day,” I say, standing up. “First day of school tomorrow. I’m going to get some sleep. See ya in class.”
I head out of the dining room, tired. It’s hard to believe that I only left home this morning. It feels like I’ve been at this place for a week already.
I step into my dorm room and see Xavier working on his code breaking homework. Only now he also has four different baseball games streaming in small windows on his computer monitor.
He doesn’t acknowledge the fact that I’m back in the room. It makes me really miss Manny. In fact, talking with so many other people just makes me miss Manny in general. Even when Manny is so engrossed in work, he always acknowledges that I’m there. Maybe I’ll write Manny another e-mail. That should make me feel better.
I sit down at my computer and bring up Manny’s e-mail address.
Hey partner,
Just got in from a great day at the beach and thought I’d shoot off another note to you.
How’s it going, working with Emily? If I know you guys, the No-Trouble Bubble will be ready for production in no time. Is she being too grumpy? If so, tell her I said “Stop!” Like she listens to me . . . lol.
Hey, you know what? Since my inventor’s brain never stops working, even when I’m supposed to be on vacation, I think I’ve come up with an idea! What do you think of the Instant Sand Castle Maker? I think it will help kids on beaches everywhere come up with awesome sand castles. We’ll talk about it when I get back, but I think we could have this invention ready for next summer.
Anyway, gotta go. Mom says hi and so do I.
—Billy
I hit send.
I was right. I do feel better after writing to Manny, even if I am making all this stuff up. I mean, the Instant Sand Castle Maker isn’t a terrible idea. I could definitely see it becoming the new cool thing at beaches everywhere!
I look over a list of my classes, waiting for a reply from Manny. Usually he replies to e-mails instantly, but, like before, I hear nothing back.
Exhausted, I crawl into bed.
The Invention Lab
WHEN I WAKE up the next morning, the first thing I do is check my e-mail. Still no replies from Manny. I rub my eyes and get dressed. I should be focusing on inventing Spy Dye and starting classes, but I’m a little concerned that I haven’t heard from him.
I head out the door and meet up with Josh, Drew, and Morgan for breakfast.
“We have a free period before first class,” Drew says in between bites of his detonating doughnut. CHOMP! “I always spend my time in the invention lab. It sounds like you might want to too. You should come with me.”
I’m suddenly really glad I’m friends with Drew. I mean, I was already glad to be friends with Drew, but even more so now because he’s an inventor.
After breakfast Drew walks me down the hall to the invention lab.
“I bet it’s really cool working at Sure Things, Inc.,” he says. “You and Manny must be a great team.”
“We are,” I admit. I don’t think I remember mentioning Manny before, but I’ve been so nervous, it probably slipped out.
Thankfully, the invention lab helps calm my nerves. Just the smell of it all is enough to lift my spirits!
There are a few inventors already at their workbenches. Everyone has a different style. Some workstations are messy; some are neat. One guy’s workstation only has red items on it. Another woman is piecing together a giant dog bone.
Drew and I stop by one of the inventor’s workstations. The inventor has white hair that sticks out from his head in every direction. He looks a bit like Albert Einstein. There are dresses scattered all around him. And baby clothes?
“Billy, meet Julius,” Drew says. “Julius invented CLOTHES IN A CAN.”
Julius smiles. “Want to see?” he asks.
“Of course!” I say. I’m intrigued. What are Clothes in a Can?
Without saying a word, Julius picks up a spray can. PFFFFT! He sprays it at me. It kind of tickles. Kind of like Philo is licking my face!
When the tickling stops, I look down and see that I am now wearing a three-piece rainbow suit and a checkered tie. Julius sprays me again, and I’m suddenly in a full scuba outfit. My whole body is covered in black rubber. I’m even wearing flippers!
One more spray and I’m wearing a sweat suit, complete with wrist and head sweatbands. A final spray and my original T-shirt and jeans return.
“Very handy for undercover agents who have to make quick changes,” Julius says, while Drew smiles and nods vigorously.
“Nice work,” I say, happy to be back in my own clothes.
We move to the next workstation. There I meet a woman who has multicolored stripes in her hair and is wearing a traditional long white lab coat.
“I’m Sylvia,” she says. “Nice to meet you, Billy. I’ve invented the PALM POWER 5000. It turns your hands into their own source of electricity. Here.”
Sylvia places a small device into my hand. It is about half the size of a cell phone.
“Touch this lamp,” she says, pointing to a table lamp that is unplugged.
Ding! I touch the lamp with my hand and the bulb lights up.
“Try this,” she says next. “I’m about to make a strawberry-banana smoothie.”
I touch a blender on Sylvia’s workbench, just as she calls out, “OH, NO! WAIT!”
The blender whirs to life, spinning the fruit and yogurt Sylvia had put in—but there’s no lid!
Whirp! Whirp! Whirp! Chunks of banana, pieces of strawberry, and big splats of yogurt go flying out of the blender. I take my hand off and the blender stops, but not before Sylvia is covered in her gooey breakfast.
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly.
“My fault. I forgot the lid,” Sylvia says, wiping some red mush from her rainbow-colored hair. “Welcome to the lab. Crazy stuff happens here all the time.”
I’m beginning to like these inventors.
Drew and I move on. I’m surprised to see my roommate Xavier at the next workstation.
“Hey, roomie, how’s it going?” he asks, seeming much friendlier than before. Maybe, like me, the lab is his happy place.
“What are you working on?” I ask. I’m not even sure I realized that Xavier was an inventor.
“HIDDEN INK, for sending secret messages,” he says. “Well, I’ve actually already invented that and am working on something else, but I’ll show you Hidden Ink because it’s cool.”
“Hidden Ink? Oh, you mean like with lemon juice and water?” I ask. I did a science experiment at Fillmore Middle where I had to make invisible ink. It worked for the most part—but the ink made the paper bumpy, so you could tell it wasn’t completely blank.
“Nope, that recipe, and all the others like that can still be seen on the paper, even though the ink appears to be invisible,” Xavier e
xplains. “My formula for Hidden Ink is COMPLETELY UNDETECTABLE. I’ll demonstrate. Go ahead and write something.”
He hands me a blank piece of paper and a pen. I start to write a short message, but nothing comes out of the pen.
“I can’t tell if it’s working,” I say.
“Just go ahead and write something,” he says.
I finish, but there is still nothing on the paper . . . or not that I can see.
Xavier takes the paper and holds it up to a lightbulb. My words suddenly appear:
This place is pretty cool.
The exact words I wrote.
“Hidden Ink can only be read when it is very close to a light,” Drew explains.
Xavier moves the paper away from the bulb and the writing instantly disappears. I’m impressed!
Drew and I continue on toward the back of the lab.
“The desks are arranged alphabetically, so we’ll be sitting next to each other,” Drew explains, pointing to an empty workstation. A sign above it reads: BILLY SURE. Drew settles into the station next to me, which says DREW S. It’s kind of weird that my sign has a last name and Drew’s just has an initial, but it’s probably just ’cause no one knows me yet. I’m here, and now it’s time to get to work!
And that’s when I notice that something is wrong.
The place is immaculate. There’s not a tool or part or anything on the desk’s surface. The drawers and shelves that surround me all have perfectly printed labels. I pull open a drawer labeled tools and see a line of TOOLS placed precisely in size order.
How am I supposed to work in this environment? I mean, it’s okay for other people, but this looks like it was designed by a neat-freak!
As I open drawers and pull stuff off shelves, I start to realize that yeah, I miss my own familiar workspace, but really I miss having Manny right there in the same room with me.
Doing my best to shake off these feelings, I get to work.
After an hour Drew stops by my desk. “How’s the progress going?” he asks.
