I cranked this one out rather easily. For some reason, I really like the idea of Jacob as a kid ;) . This one's not the most interesting of Fanfics, but it's something. Enjoy, and, as always, REVIEW!!
Disclaimer: I have dreams about being famous, but when I wake up, I'm still freezing. An adored Authoress would be able to afford a decent heater, at least. Belongs to the amazing Stephenie Meyer.
The prompt was Club, but the title...
The Secret Association of...
Who in their right mind would spend a Saturday cleaning out their room? No one. But I obviously wasn't quite sane, as here I was, elbow deep in decade old paper, wrappers, and gods know what else.
I sighed as I chucked yet another wad of old math assignments in the general direction of the trash bag sitting by my open door. At this rate, I would be here until midnight. I decided I would take a break from my bedside table for the moment.
Wading my way across my room toward the closet, I had to watch my feet. It was necessary in order to avoid accidentally stepping on something I had meant to save.
Maybe I should have taken Dad's advice after all, I pondered, wincing, after stubbing my toe on an unseen box. Organizing now would probably be easier than doing it later…
I slid open the closet's metal door, grimacing at the horrible grating noise coming from the infrequently used track. After seeing what was inside, I almost slammed it shut again. I remembered now why I rarely opened the door, and it wasn't because of the effort it took.
A disaster zone had met my eyes when light was shed on the contents of the closet. Only the already knee-high mess on the floor kept the drifts from spilling out and creating more havoc. Too-small clothes were piled on reports and homework, which in turn, was layered with bottles, candy wrappers, old sports equipment, CD cases, and the occasional book. I shifted the mass of junk aside to find broken toys and other childhood memorabilia closest to the floor. I paused to think of the last time that I had cleaned my room, let alone my closet.
I couldn't remember.
Grabbing the thrash bag by the door, I began to pile the garbage from the closet into it without a second glance. If I hadn't seen it for over three years, I saw no reason to keep it around for another when it was sure to spend the time in darkness.
After successfully clearing away most of the debris, I found myself suddenly immersed in memories. All those afternoons of playing with my Aqua-Man and Roach-Boy figurines were coming back to me as I handled their broken limbs and missing costumes. I smiled as I set the action figures aside; Embry was sure to get a good laugh out of them.
But the floor of the now functional closet was not quite clean yet. Shoved in the corner was a shoebox covered in strange drawings and random words. I reached in and pulled it out, setting it in my lap and tugging off the lid. As soon as I opened it, I knew what it was.
When Embry, Quil and I had been in middle school, we had developed an obsession with spies and secrecy. We had created out own 'Spy Club' that was the envy of our classmates. It had consumed our attention for weeks on end, until it came to an abrupt end for no real reason. While it had lasted, though, we had sent each other on secret missions, and developed an uncountable number of schemes and plots for every situation imaginable. We were a terror to our parents and babysitters alike, and any secret told never got past out radar. Ah, yes. Christmas wasn't much fun that year. All of our equipment had been kept in the shoebox in my hands, along with our detailed sketches of our assignments, houses, and plans. We had been organized back then, even keeping Minutes for our meetings.
I wondered what the others would think if I reminded them of our younger days. My room forgotten, I hastened out of my house and onto my bike, in a hurry to get to Quil's. How opposed would they be to a Secret Association now?