Watermelon 2 and Rocky Road 12 with Whipped Cream
Author: Winter Violet
Challenge: Watermelon # 2 it’s all coming back to me and Rocky Road # 12 classroom/dojo
Topping: Whipped Cream
Word Count: 330
Rated: G
Story: Anything but Nothing
Summary: Emily lets you in on her childhood as she develops a keen sense of courage for once in her life.
Notes: It’s been long since I used Whipped Cream.
“Em! Come on,” pleaded her twin, who was trembling in anxiety. “We have to diffuse that bomb or else we’ll fail this class…again!”
Eight-year-old Emily glared, thinking this was starting to look unfair. Wasn’t she the one who always took the blame when her twin played pranks on the teachers? Wasn’t she the one who always did her homework in History? Wasn’t she the one who faked Leslie’s signature to get into that special program for cons just because she was too tired to move a finger?
“You do it,” scowled Emily, reaching for her goggles. “I located it, now you diffuse it.”
The bomb continued ticking, their time almost gone with the wind---along with those perfect A’s. Emily sighed when Leslie didn’t do anything, taking out a few tools from her bag. She parted the two red wires and chopped the blue ones into bits together with the green one. She connected back the yellow one onto the green spot.
And walla! It stopped.
The teacher came in and took the bomb from them, giving both an A for their midterms. All the other students entered the classroom, their faces all worn-out and dirty just to find that bomb all over the campus. The Clay twins had done it again.
“Did you have any history with bombs and flash explosives?” Tony asked me, as we stumbled upon a bomb attached to the chandelier.
I nodded. “Loads of times. Leslie and I worked with them for a couple of weeks and mastered every bit inside of it. Even the part where you have to program the bomb yourself. We were the only ones…who…managed to…”
My heart throbbed in sudden concern over my sister. I stared at the bomb, messily cut with wiring so easy to remove. I disconnected the wires, hoping to find some answers. And I was right, no doubt. I would recognize how stupidly Leslie would adjust the time with the connectors in the batteries.
“Leslie’s here.”