Ginnie Quinn bounced with excitement. All she needed to complete her heart was Owen's answer. She couldn't believe her parents had said yes! Several months ago, Ginnie and her friend Owen Sonny had received free admission to a boarding school under the name of Battle Preparation Academy, and Ginnie's parents had just given her permission! If Mr. and Mrs. Sonny said yes, Ginnie would have to force herself not to explode with excitement. 

Owen trudged down the block to the Quinn family's house. He had avoided it, but he was supposed to give Ginnie the news yesterday. His parents hadn't agreed to Battle Preparation Academy. Owen was not only disappointed that he wouldn't be going to a boarding school to learn battle strategies, but that he wouldn't see Ginnie until Christmas break. He reluctantly knocked on the door. Ginnie threw it open, and Owen was glad that the door opened to the wall. "I-" Owen started to say."Come in, come in!" Ginnie said excitedly. 

Ginnie and Owen sat by Ginnie's kitchen table. "So, what'd your parents say?" Ginnie asked. "They-I can't go," Owen said. Ginnie's excitement quickly fizzled down. If Owen couldn't come, she wouldn't see her friend 'til Christmas, and that was more than three months away! Owen's voice broke through her thoughts. "Sorry, Ginnie," he said. And he was out the door before you could say Battle Preparation Academy.

Ginnie waited outside her front porch, wearing her school uniform, suitcase in hand. Her parents should be home soon to drive her to the Academy. Ginnie wondered if Owen would come to say goodbye. The Quinns waited another five minutes, and, when Owen didn't come, got into their car and drove away, leaving the rainy drizzle behind.

The Quinns arrived at the boarding school. During the three-hour drive, the depressing rain had ceased. The check-in man peered over the rims of his glasses at Ginnie. "Form of admission?" he asked, looking expectantly at Mr. and Mrs. Quinn. But it was Ginnie who handed him the "Free Admission" form. The man at the desk looked at Ginnie with interest. He led her to a small room, asking her parents to wait outside. The man's brass name tag read "Mr. Clark".  "Full name?" Mr. Clark asked. "Genevieve Adella Lilvan Quinn," Ginnie said clearly. "But I prefer to be called Ginnie." Mr. Clark 

raised a bushy eyebrow. "I'm afraid we call our pupils by their full names only, Miss Genevieve," he said. "And your age?" "13 years old as of July 27," Ginnie said. Mr. Clark made a note on his clipboard.  "Lilvan is your mother's maiden name, correct?" Ginnie nodded. "I saw you have a free admission form. Who gave it to you?" he inquired. "My friend's grandfather," Ginnie said. "Who is this friend?" Mr. Clark asked. "Rebekah Jailer." "Mr. Jailer is the headmaster of this school," he said. "If he gave you free admission, you must be a true warrior."

After her parents had left, Ginnie was taken to a room with three other girls her age. Two of them she didn't know, but the other she recognized as Becks, a friend she'd made last year! Becks waved her over. Her shiny orange hair bounced as she walked. "Ginnie! You came!" she said. Becks turned. "Guys, this is Ginnie," Becks said. "Ginnie, this is Lake, and over here is Makenna." Lake looked like her name. She had blond hair and bright blue eyes, while Makenna had wild brown hair and super-dark blue eyes. The four girls went to sleep, and Ginnie wished desperately that Owen was there because she'd never felt so lonely in her life. 

Ginnie's first day at the B.P.A was kind of hectic. First, she had to go through "categorization". That meant she was getting put into a class based on her battle history. The categorizers were not very friendly, barking each quesion they read aloud. "What adversities have you faced?" a particularly red-faced looking woman shouted. "Alchys Gomez, Abbadon Gomez, James Barker, Nico Simpson, and Keith Parker," Ginnie said. The lady looked surprised.  "What kind of fighting have you done, you little midget?" roared another man from across the room. "I've escaped torturers and prison, led a car chase, arrested criminals, and cancelled a 

bombing from a computer." "And-and did anyone help you with all that?" another judge prompted.  "Rebekah and Karl Jailer, and especially my friend Owen Sonny," A solemn look passed through the faces of the judges. "Owen Sonny...of Lybrooke Lane?" Ginnie nodded. "Yes, but why?" Ginnie's question never got answered. The faces of the categorizers were all sad and slack, and Ginnie was sent to a different room to determine her final class.  Ginnie found out she was a Panther, which meant she was a brave leader. Ginnie walked to a common room where she met the three other Panthers: Lake, from her first room; a boy named Kenneth,

and a sixteen-year-old guy dresssed like a rockstar named Will Sanchex, not Sanchez. Kenneth seemed the most friendly. "Yo, did you hear what happened to that guy on Lybrooke?" he asked. A wave of panic swept through Ginnie. "Wait, what was the guy's last name?" "Uh, I know it started with an S. Like, Sonny?" Ginnie turned pallid. "Oh no," she whispered. "No, no, no no." "You okay?" Kenneth asked with mild concern. "You don't understand...I live on Lybrooke Lane, and Owen Sonny is my good friend. Do you know exactly what happened?" Ginnie said. "I heard the house was hit by a plane," Kenneth said cautiously He looked genuinely sorry 

for Ginnie. "Some teachers told me about it being a planned attack; they called it '9/11 again'." "It's not that bad," Ginnie said, trying to convince herself. "It can't be." 

The next day as Ginnie went through her classes, it seemed every student  was talking about "that poor kid on Lybrooke Lane".  Nobody was more concerned, though, than newcomer Genevieve Quinn. In the tech class, their teacher Mrs. Thaliard asked if anyone knew his name and age. Ginnie bit back tears as she raised her hand. "Yes, Genevieve?" Mrs. Thaliard asked. Ginnie stood shakily. "His name is Owen Nidal Sonny, and he's 13," "I take it you knew him," Mrs. Thaliard said. Tears clouded Ginnie's green eyes, but she said strongly, "No, I know  him. I know Owen isn't dead, or lost, or whatever rumor they're spreading." 

The rest of the day was just like that. Now that the others new that that Jenny girl or whatever her name was had been Sonny's friend, they bombarded her with questions. Or sickened her with fake, soppy sympathy. By the end of the day when she slumped into the Panther common room, Ginnie was exhausted. She was in her pajamas and getting ready to go into her and Lake's dormitory when a brisk knock sounded at the door. Ginnie opened it, revealing a man with a thick French accent. "A letter for Genevieve Adella Lilvan Quinn," he said. "This is she," Ginnie said. "Thank you." The man nodded and Ginnie closed the door. 

Ginnie walked into the girls' dormitory, where Lake was turning the pages of   "Case of the Missing Tiara, by Judah".  Beside her was Ginnie sat at the desk and opened the letter. The front of it read "To Genevieve Adella Lilvan Quinn, from Skarlett and Jakob Quinn." She began to read: 

"Dear Genevieve, as you may know, a crisis has taken place at the Sonny's home. Mr. and Mrs. Sonny sadly did not make it. Bless their souls. The last thing they said to us was, "If possible, make sure Owen makes it out alive. Please." So far, we are almost positive he is alive, but we can't find him. We are recruiting members for a rescue mission, and

we're warning you: DO NOT lEAVE THE ACADEMY. It is dangerous here, and we don't want you getting hurt. Please say safe, Genevieve."

Love, Mom and Dad. 

Ginnie stared at the letter. A wave of relief washed over her because her parents had indicated that Owen was most likely alive. But how could she not try to help rescue her best friend? 

Ginnie lay awake tossing and turning all night. The glowing numbers on the digital clock bore into her eyes, flashing 3:36 AM. "Psst. Lake," she whispered, "Are you awake?" "Yes," Ginnie heard from the bunk below. Everything was colored Panther purple and gray, including their pajamas. "My parents are pretty sure that Owen Sonny isn't dead," Ginnie said. "That's good," Lake said.  "Do you have any siblings?" Lake asked after a while. "No, I'm an only child. What about you?" "No, but I wish I did," Lake said. "Do you know what team Makenna and Becks are on?" Ginnie inquired. "Yeah, they're Swans," Lake said, rolling over on her back.

"That means they're 'graceful dancers'. Their colors are baby pink and soft white." "Huh. Sounds kinda like a little girl's bedroom," said Ginnie. Lake said she agreed. "Your full name's Genevieve, right?" she asked. "Yeah," Ginnie said. "Is yours Lake, or is it something else?" Lake sounded embarrassed, but she muttered, "It's Lakelinne. Don't tell anyone," "I won't," Ginnie promised. "But what about tomorrow, when we fill out the forms? You know where we go if we don't write our full names." Lake groaned. The next thing Ginnie knew, she was awake and sitting between Lake and Kenneth at the Panther table, eating a breakfast of oatmeal.

Will Sanchex sat across from them, headphones in as usual. Their purple-and-gray uniforms matched the tablecloth. "What's the point of writing your full name, if nobody's gonna call you 'Lakelinne Tabitha' anyway?" Lake complained. "Beats me," Kenneth shrugged. Kenneth, Lake, and Ginnie had become friends. "I guess the point is not wanting to go to detention," Ginnie said. Detention at Battle Prep was getting thrown into a difficult virtual war that did not seem virtual AT ALL. "Maybe, but I think I'd rather fight in one of those onscreen wars than be called Lakelinne Tabitha," Lake said. 

Pretty soon Lake, Kenneth, Ginnie, and Will were brought to a room with the Swans, decked out in pink and white; the Bears, in yellow and brown, and the Cheetahs, in gold and black. "Take a seat," a voice said. Ginnie turned. A grouchy man with horn-rimmed glasses was sitting at the desk. "You'll fill out your forms soon.Ginnie and the Panthers took some seats in the back of the class. A tall man in all white dropped their forms in front of them, and they began.

Owen looked sadly at his broken walkie-talkie. He and Ginnie had promised to use those walkie-talkies to communicate with each other. "Probably doesn't even matter," Owen muttered. "Ginnie most likely burned hers." Owen slumped against the sturdy tree, wondering if he'd ever see his family again, or if Ginnie knew or cared about his situation. Three nights ago, a plane had attacked his two-story house on Lybrooke Lane. All Owen could remember were big strong arms carrying him, only half conscious, to the woods. He had been flung through the air...and landed on the forest floor. Owen wished Ginnie had not gone to that boarding school. He was too lonely.

Owen sighed. The night was falling, and he had to find shelter fast.  If he could only find his way out of the woods! There was sure to be some sympathetic person who would take him into his home, at least until his parents were found. A strange crackling sound came from his walkie-talkie. "O-en? Ow-en, are you the-" It was Ginnie's voice! Owen attempted to speak into the demolished device. "Ginnie? Ginnie, it's Owen!" he said frantically. "Owen, where are you?" Ginnie's voice rang loud and clear this time. "I can't find the city," Owen said. "I'm lost in the woods." "Find a sign that says "Cremall Left" and just go straight from there." A different voice 

came through the walkie-talkie. "Miss Genevieve, absolutely no devices are allowed in my classroom! Hand it over NOW." And that was the last Owen heard of Ginnie.