Race through Europe
A/N: I don't know where this idea came from it just kind of popped into my head one day and here it is.
Okay, so this is my life and this is my story. God does that sound lame! Anyhow this is how my life works: it's boring, it's redundant, and it's just this side of psychotic. It used to be cool to be at the opening of a new museum every month, not that the museums were all that interesting but when said openings are in a different city, in a different country than the one before it makes it a little cooler. My passport has more stamps than the post office and I've been to more countries than most people my age can locate. But like I said, it used to be cool, now it's verging on annoying.
I guess I should probably introduce myself since you're sitting here listening to my story. My name is Alexis Abigail Gates. Yes you heard right, Gates, as in Benjamin Gates or as I like to call him, Dad. My parents are Ben and Abigail Gates the famed historians and treasure hunters. Well I guess they weren't really treasure hunters, at least my mom wasn't. From what I understand she was a pretty mild mannered civil servant until my dad showed up in her office making wild claims about a supposed treasure map on the back of the Declaration of Independence. But you guys already know that part.
My parents are like any other set of brilliantly talented, though slightly neurotic, parental units. They can be cool at times but God help me if I do poorly on a test, especially history. The last time that happened I sat through a two hour lecture about how the past should never be forgotten and how it was my duty as a Gates to carry on the family legacy. And that's when I got a C+ on the exam! God only knows what would have happened if I would have failed it, I'd probably still be sitting in the parlor to this day. Ugh, and let's not even discuss the first time my boyfriend took me out on a date. I really thought my dad was going to have the FBI come in and run a background check on him. That's embarrassing. Thankfully everything worked out well and Josh and I have now been together for almost a year. I guess miracles do happen.
But I guess I better get down to the real reason you're here. After all I don't think you want to hear my entire life story, so I'll cut to the chase. With all the places I've been in my life and all the things I've seen there is still one place that mystifies me: the city of Prague in the Czech Republic. I know you were expecting me to name some exotic place in South America or maybe somewhere in Africa, but what can I say? My heart belongs to Europe even if my brain is a patron of American history.
Where did I get this fascination? Beats me, but I've always had it since I can remember. There's something about that city that just draws me in. It seems to me that it holds some sort of weird protection against anything and everything on this planet. Think about it, how many wars have been waged in Europe? And yet very little of Prague has been destroyed. Hitler himself pronounced that Prague was to be the gem of his empire, after Berlin that is. There's something cool about that. But now back to my story…
It started out as any normal day. I woke up around six o'clock in the morning and pulled myself into the shower. Nearly 45 minutes later I was dressed and ready for school. It's one of the interesting things about uniforms is that it really cuts down preparation time in the morning. I never have to think about what I'm going to wear I just pull on my green and white plaid skirt and green sweater overtop a white collared shirt. It's a little boring, but hey that's life. So I went downstairs where my mom was already in the kitchen reading her morning copy of the Washington Post.
"Good morning sweetie," she called without looking up from the ink. "Sausage and eggs are on the stove."
I glanced at the skillet on the stove and shook my head. "I think I'll just have cereal." Don't get me wrong my mom's cooking isn't terrible. I mean it's edible and everything, but only if you don't value your life. So I grabbed my usual orange plastic bowl out of the cupboard, set it on the table and scrounged around another cupboard for an appealing cereal. Finding nothing better I settled on Cheerios and took a seat at the table.
"Good morning Princess," my dad announced kissing the top of my head as he came into the kitchen. He's done this every morning since I can remember. It's a little annoying but what can I say, I kind of enjoy it most days. "What's for breakfast?"
"There's sausage and eggs on the stove," my mom repeated.
My dad looked at me and I silently slid my finger across my neck to convey my opinion. Dad laughed.
"I saw that," mom said. I'm not sure how she did that, but she managed to see everything even when her head was buried in a book or the Washington Post. I merely shrugged my shoulders and continued with my bowl of Cheerios. Ironically my dad chose to eat the rest of the concoction on the stove and lived to tell the tale.
I dropped my bowl in the sink and made my way into the foyer where my book bag was hanging. It wasn't hanging because I put it there, but because my dad got tired of seeing my books sprawled across the desk in his study and usually packed them up for me. Just as I was making my way out the door he stopped me.
"Lexi? Do you have any plans for this weekend?"
The truth was that I did, and I knew I did but I hated to disappoint him. "I'm not sure, Dad. I think Josh might be planning something for my birthday. I'll ask him today."
"Okay. Have a good day."
"You too," I said and slipped out the door. I thought the week would be boring, and actually it was. Isn't it funny how time always seems to drag when you reach the last four weeks of the school year? We were twenty days of classes away from summer freedom but yet the academic gods refused to relinquish their hold. It was going to be a long week, but it was nothing compared to what was coming.
