Dylan
[indent]A cool breeze wafted through the trees, sending a few leaves drifting to the ground. Slowly they floated, sailing back and fourth, until at last they reached the earth; the very thing they had been born of. The air was frosty-cold, and the freezing lakes warned of winters coming. The ice crackled on the frozen grass, and snow gently fell from the late, grey November sky. All of this I observed through my bedroom window, wishing I could be outside right now. "Man," I thought. "It's not fair! It wasn't my fault the vase fell and broke, and yet I get grounded. What gives?" With a sigh, I jumped backwards and fell on my bed, deep in thought. The window began to frost over, and suddenly, the clouds unloaded their weight, and snow began to fall in drifts. Watching this, I sat up and laid out my options:

1. Just stay here.
No way! On a great day like this, there was no way I was just going to stay grounded.

2. Convince parents to let me go.
A nice thought, but my parents would never let that happen. That vase was too important to them.

3. Text Kate and Phil to come bail me out.
A possibility, but my parents took away my phone when they sent me up here. How would I reach them? I laid back down. Ugh, it was useless. I was stuck inside my room on a beautiful day. The clock ticked by, and I was cooped up for what seemed like hours, but was only mere minutes. Outside, screams of happy kids could be heard, playing in the snow and...no. I got up, running to the window and leaning out it. 2 stories down, and then across the street...I was that close to a beybattle! The sound of the tops clashing together, metal on metal, was a sound I was all too familiar with. Now I needed to get out. Frantically, I paced the room, searching my mind for any way of escape. Man, I needed to get into the action! Just when I thought I was going to go insane, the phone rang. Ugh! What an idiot! I ran over to the phone in my room, sitting on top of my nightstand. All of this time I hadn't thought of calling them? Stupid! I face-palmed myself a few times before picking up the phone and dialing. I was about to call, but stopped. If mom or dad picked up the phone while I was on it, I'd be screwed. I just had to wait for them to hang up, and then call them. I sat in a chair and waited, listening for sounds downstairs. It was a few more minutes before I heard the "click!" of someone hitting the end button on the phone. As fast as I could, I dialed Kate's number and pressed send. The phone on the other end rang a few times before she picked up.

"Hello?" her sweet and soft voice didn't even change on the phone.

"Hey, Kate! It's Dylan. Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Sure, anything!" I sighed, rubbing my knees back and fourth like I always did when I was nervous.

"...Code orange" There was a long silence before she answered.

"Code orange..." She repeated. "That's the one that means you got grounded unjustly, right? And now you need us to bail you ou-"

"SHHH!" I hissed. "My parents might be listening to this call." Not one second after I said that, a knock sounded on my door.

"Dylan?" Oh carp, mom! Very quietly, I whispered to Kate.

"Look, I need you to get Phil and preform code orange, OK?" Another knock sounded, followed by a shout for my dad to come. "Please Kate," I begged. "Oh! And bring your beys"

"Wait, Dy-" Just as I hung up the phone, my door slammed open and two very unhappy and angry parents were waiting behind it. A finger was pointed at me.

"Dylan Michael Aolafa!" My dad exclaimed. "What the hell are you doing with that?" He pointed at the phone in my hand. Not removing eye contact, I slowly lowered the phone back onto the stand and said nothing. My dad’s eyes glared at me, turning bulging shades of yellow and red. I wouldn't have been surprised if I turned to stone. "You are grounded! You aren't allowed to be making phone calls!" I shifted my chair away from the nightstand.

"I-I-I wasn't,” I stammered. "I was just-"

"You were just what?" My mom put a hand on his shoulder as if to say, "ease up", but my dad knocked it aside. I swallowed hard.

"I was just...ordering pizza. Yeah, that's it. What do you usually like, dad? Anchovies and peppers?" To my utter surprise, my dad lifted his gaze, and his face softened.

"Yes," He said, cooly, "That's exactly right. And make sure it's a large." My parents walked out of the room, but right before he closed the door, my dad leaned in.

"Oh, and by the way," He added. "I know what code orange is." And with that shocking sentence, my dad shut the door.

Can you say "Busted?!"
Kate
"Wait, Dy-" It was no use, he had hung up. With a nervous sigh, I leaned back in my chair. Oh, what was I going to do? I was a klutz, I'd probably get caught or something. I picked up the phone again. Maybe it was best to just tell Phil what was happening and let him handle it. Yeah, that was a good plan! I dialed his number and pressed "Enter". Phil answered on the first ring, not differing from the norm.

"House of horrors, Phil speaking. May I ask who's calling?" In the background, noises of crying and screaming could be heard. Typical.

"Um..hi," I said, "This is Kate, and..um...Dylan issued a code orange. I was just thinking you could hop on over there an-"

"Code orange?" A hint of concern entered his voice.

"Yes, and, um...we need to get him out." Phil was silent for a second, but the screaming and crying continued on his end.

"OK, I have a plan. Meet me at the corner of Backstreet and Berksley in 10."

"But Phil-"

"Oh! And bring your bey!"

"Wait, don't hang u-" But it was too late, he had hung up.

Why did they always cut me off?!

Phil
Oh, boy. It was just like Dylan to get in trouble for something he didn't do. Somehow, even being an innocent bystander, he was the suspect. Like the time he was standing near the ice cream store when someone left without paying. Or the time we were all at the ice skating rink and someone thought he tripped a little girl that had fallen. Either way, Dylan was always in trouble, so it wasn't like I didn't know what to do in a situation like this. The only problem was how we would get him out-and avoid his parents? Ugh! Grabbing my beyblade, my computer, and a few other things for the 'plan', I ran out the door.

When I arrived at the meeting place, I checked my watch and found I was 5 minutes early. Oh, well. A little time to myself then. Setting down my bag on a bench, I sat down next to it and tapped my foot. Kate was always known for being at least a few minutes late, so why did I get here so early? I went over the plan again a few times in my mind, but in every scenario, we were caught. A suicide mission, incapable of being completed without failure. If we used the back entrance, Dylan's dog would catch us and bark. That mutt always liked to hang around the back area, so we would be caught for sure. The front? There was a huge window there, it would be impossible for them not to see us. Maybe just go on the side, and toss a rope up to Dylan's room. Yeah, it was possible. His room was on the edge of the house, away from the front. Just toss him a rope, and he could climb down. However, what abou-

My thoughts were interrupted by the yelling of a some guy at a paper stand. His long, white beard reminded me of a certain jolly old fat guy who comes around once a year, but I was more intrigued by the newspapers. On the front page, I saw a picture of a pink, floating orb. It looked almost like a hologram, as it was transparent; but there was something else about it that I couldn't figure out. Why was I so attracted to it, and why did I feel like it was familiar? I grabbed my wallet and strode over there.

"Hey," I said, looking up at the guy. "How much for a paper?" He counted on his fingers for a second, then looked down.

"2 dollars." What a rip! Whatever, at least I would be able to get a look at the stupid thing. I handed over the cash and out popped a paper. I went back to the bench, looked at my watch (It had only been 3 minutes!), and opened it up.



[indent]Researchers at the Museum For Archaic Artifacts were at a dig site in Tombstone, Arizona, when 78 year old Mundungus Courtona dug up an odd looking cube. At first glance, it looked to be just a square shaped rock, but when a hidden button on it was pushed, the cube displayed a hologram of a pink sphere. Experts have no idea what this mysterious artifact is, or where it came from. It was guessed...[continued on page A3]

I folded the paper back up. Ugh, media. They'll do anything for attention.