Categories > Cartoons > Class of the Titans > Busted!
"Does anyone remember the days when we were ALLOWED to sleep in, like normal teenagers?" Archie called as a way of greeting. It was Saturday morning, early Saturday morning, and the team was gathered in the kitchen. They were all trying to scarf down some breakfast before going to train with Ares.
"I know. Ares is totally cutting into my beauty sleep," said Neil, who had given up on his grapefruit and was checking his reflection. Knowing that Neil made for the worst conversations, especially when sleep- deprived, Archie scanned the group for company. Theresa and Jay were discussing something with Athena, who was making pancakes as fast as Herry ate them. Odie had out his video game, and was oblivious to the rest of the world. Spotting a ferociously red- haired girl eating by herself, Archie decided a conversation from him would liven up her day. He pulled up a stool, and the noise made the girl look up.
"Hey, Arch," she greeted.
"Hi, Atlanta," he replied, accepting the toast Athena offered at the same time. "Got any plans for after training?" He asked causually, yet hope still etched into his voice. It was now common knowledge in the household that Archie liked Atlanta. Well, to everyone except Atlanta, that is.
"No, not yet. Why?" She questioned. Archie was always asking her to hang out, and the girl had no idea why. When anyone asked, she would say that they were best friends, Which was the truth. But Atlanta had always wondered if there was more to it than that.
"Well, I was wondering if-"
"Time for training," Herry called to them, and the two saw that they were the only ones left sitting down. Archie couldn't help silently cursing Herry's timing as the team piled into the truck, and prepared for the drive to the school.
~~~*~
"Good morning, honey," said Mr. Ockley to his wife. The couple lived in Boston, MA, far away from New Olympia.
"Hello, sweetheart," Mrs. Ockley replied. She seemed distracted, which propted her husband to ask, "Is there something on your mind?"
"Yes, actually. It's about Archie."
"Did something happen?" Said the suddenly very concerned Mr. Ockley. He was very proud of his son. At just 17, he was offered a place training at one of the top sports- specialty schools in the country, on a scholarship that was nearly impossible to come by. This was a step up to college, as the man would tell anyone who would listen.
"Well, I'm not sure. See, a letter came today, from a Miss Hera. Here," and she handed him an envelope, which he examined in silence. The letter was a curious thing. There was no stamp, nor evidence that there ever was one. There was no forwarding address, or any address, for that matter. The only writing on the envelope was written in dark purple ink, and it said "Mr. and Mrs. Ockley." Simple, and to the point, but highly unusual. Mr. Ockley took out the letter, and quickly read:
"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Ockley,
I write in regards about your son, Archie. Unfortunately, I must say that he has not been away on a sports scholarship as we had told you, but be assured that the reason he is away is just as valiant, and even more important. We apologise for misinforming you about the whereabouts of Archie, but it was not safe to disclose that information until now. Please do not be alarmed as you read this, for your son will come home safe and sound.
Which brings me to the reason for writing to you. We would like to invite you to join us in three days time, so we may speak face to face and discuss this matter. Attached is a map and instructions on how to get here, for to write this in a letter would be foolishness itself. Again, we are sorry for any inconvinence we have caused you, and hope you understand how necessary it was.
Sincerely,
Miss Hera
Principal, New Olympia High School.
New Olympia."
Anger flowed throungh Mr. Ockley's veins. What right did these people have to hide his son's whereabouts from him. That was kidnapping, not to mention dangerous. One look at his wife told Mr. Ockley that she completely agreed.
"So," she began, "what do we do."
He thought, then said, "We do as the letter says. In three days time we will go to New Olympia, and talk with this Miss Hera person. I want to know what she's done with my son."
"I know. Ares is totally cutting into my beauty sleep," said Neil, who had given up on his grapefruit and was checking his reflection. Knowing that Neil made for the worst conversations, especially when sleep- deprived, Archie scanned the group for company. Theresa and Jay were discussing something with Athena, who was making pancakes as fast as Herry ate them. Odie had out his video game, and was oblivious to the rest of the world. Spotting a ferociously red- haired girl eating by herself, Archie decided a conversation from him would liven up her day. He pulled up a stool, and the noise made the girl look up.
"Hey, Arch," she greeted.
"Hi, Atlanta," he replied, accepting the toast Athena offered at the same time. "Got any plans for after training?" He asked causually, yet hope still etched into his voice. It was now common knowledge in the household that Archie liked Atlanta. Well, to everyone except Atlanta, that is.
"No, not yet. Why?" She questioned. Archie was always asking her to hang out, and the girl had no idea why. When anyone asked, she would say that they were best friends, Which was the truth. But Atlanta had always wondered if there was more to it than that.
"Well, I was wondering if-"
"Time for training," Herry called to them, and the two saw that they were the only ones left sitting down. Archie couldn't help silently cursing Herry's timing as the team piled into the truck, and prepared for the drive to the school.
~~~*~
"Good morning, honey," said Mr. Ockley to his wife. The couple lived in Boston, MA, far away from New Olympia.
"Hello, sweetheart," Mrs. Ockley replied. She seemed distracted, which propted her husband to ask, "Is there something on your mind?"
"Yes, actually. It's about Archie."
"Did something happen?" Said the suddenly very concerned Mr. Ockley. He was very proud of his son. At just 17, he was offered a place training at one of the top sports- specialty schools in the country, on a scholarship that was nearly impossible to come by. This was a step up to college, as the man would tell anyone who would listen.
"Well, I'm not sure. See, a letter came today, from a Miss Hera. Here," and she handed him an envelope, which he examined in silence. The letter was a curious thing. There was no stamp, nor evidence that there ever was one. There was no forwarding address, or any address, for that matter. The only writing on the envelope was written in dark purple ink, and it said "Mr. and Mrs. Ockley." Simple, and to the point, but highly unusual. Mr. Ockley took out the letter, and quickly read:
"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Ockley,
I write in regards about your son, Archie. Unfortunately, I must say that he has not been away on a sports scholarship as we had told you, but be assured that the reason he is away is just as valiant, and even more important. We apologise for misinforming you about the whereabouts of Archie, but it was not safe to disclose that information until now. Please do not be alarmed as you read this, for your son will come home safe and sound.
Which brings me to the reason for writing to you. We would like to invite you to join us in three days time, so we may speak face to face and discuss this matter. Attached is a map and instructions on how to get here, for to write this in a letter would be foolishness itself. Again, we are sorry for any inconvinence we have caused you, and hope you understand how necessary it was.
Sincerely,
Miss Hera
Principal, New Olympia High School.
New Olympia."
Anger flowed throungh Mr. Ockley's veins. What right did these people have to hide his son's whereabouts from him. That was kidnapping, not to mention dangerous. One look at his wife told Mr. Ockley that she completely agreed.
"So," she began, "what do we do."
He thought, then said, "We do as the letter says. In three days time we will go to New Olympia, and talk with this Miss Hera person. I want to know what she's done with my son."
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