Minecraft: Into the Game (Minecraft Woodsword Chronicles #1). Nick Eliopulos

especially,” she added. Maybe she wouldn’t have so much trouble making friends this time.

      “An animal lover?” said Ms Minerva. “Why, that gives me an idea. How would you like to take care of Baron Sweetcheeks for a while?”

      The boy with the Minecraft binder perked up again. He raised his hand.

      “Baron . . . Sweetcheeks?” Ash asked, uncertain.

      “The class hamster,” Ms Minerva clarified. Then she whispered, “I didn’t name him.”

      “Ms Minerva?” the boy said, waving his hand.

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      “Yes, Morgan?”

      The boy straightened up in his seat. “Baron Sweetcheeks is actually a lot of work.”

      Ms Minerva sighed. “Twenty-four children are a lot of work, Morgan. Baron Sweetcheeks is a hamster.”

      “Sure, he looks cute,” Morgan Mercado said. “From a distance! But if you neglect him even a

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      little bit, he freaks out. He needs food, fresh water, exercise, cute hats, intellectual stimulation . . .”

      “It sounds like you could use a break from the hamster, Morgan,” said their teacher.

      Morgan shook his head. “No, I . . .”

      “I don’t mind,” Ash said. “I’m happy to help. I’ll start today.”

      “It’s settled, then,” said Ms Minerva. “Ash, there’s a free seat in the back there.”

      Ash felt quite happy. The day was off to a good start. And she had so much in common with Morgan! As she walked past him on the way to her seat, she gave him a friendly little wave.

      He didn’t wave back.

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      Chapter 2

      Hypothesis: Our Science

      Teacher Is from

      a Post-Apocalyptic

      Future

      J

      odi Mercado looked over her

      list of equipment. Binoculars:

      check. Sunglasses: check.

      Trench coat: too hot and

      probably not necessary, so she

      had left it at home.

      She had done her

      research. She knew

      all the tools of the

      spy trade.

      “It’s difficult to use

      sunglasses and binoculars

      at the same time, though,” she

      said, switching back and forth

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      between the two.

      “Excuse me,” said a voice at Jodi’s back. She turned

      and saw the new girl

      standing there. “Is this second-period gym?”

      “Yes,” Jodi replied quickly. “Welcome! Here, hold these,

      please.” She handed

      her sunglasses over. The binoculars

      gave a much clearer view. She now saw her science teacher, Doc Culpepper, walking through the school car park with a box full of circuit boards and wires and . . . gadgets of some sort.

      “Sorry, one more question,” said the new girl. “Where is the gym teacher?”

      “Coach Graham is always three or four minutes late,” Jodi answered. “Which means these are the

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      best three minutes of the day to test my hypothesis.”

      “Hypothesis?” echoed the new girl.

      “It means an educated guess,” explained Jodi. “You try to prove your guess is right or wrong through experimentation or observation.”

      “I know what a hypothesis is,” the girl replied. “We already had our science fair at my last school. I meant, what is your hypothesis?”

      “I think our science teacher is from the future,”

      Jodi answered. “I think she was fighting

      evil robots, but the robots were winning. So

      she travelled back to our time to change

      the past and prevent them from conquering the world.”

      The new girl laughed. But it wasn’t a mean laugh. Jodi knew what a mean laugh sounded like.

      Jodi lowered her binoculars and continued. “Culpepper is new this year. She’s brilliant.

      She’s a real doctor! I looked her up online, and she has worked on artificial intelligence. So what is she doing at our school?”

      “Maybe she enjoys teaching,” said the new girl.

      “That’s an interesting hypothesis,” said Jodi.

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      “But I like mine better.”

      “Well, I have bad news,” said the girl. “I think your science project has got away.”

      Jodi spun around and looked

      through the binoculars. “How did she do that?” she asked.

      “Did she step through a time portal?”

      “She stepped into . . .

      a minivan!” the new girl

      answered dramatically.

      “Hmmm . . . ” said Jodi, disappointed. “That’s

      so normal, it’s almost suspicious . . .”

      The new girl giggled. “I’m Ash, by the way.”

      Jodi put the binoculars away. “I’m Jodi. I saw you this morning. We’re both in Ms Minerva’s class.” She pointed to Ash’s sash. “So you’re a Wildling Scout? You have so many badges!”

      Ash nodded. “Unfortunately, there’s no Spycraft badge. But maybe I can help you anyway. I do have a badge for bird-watching. And camouflage. And drone building.“

      “Oh, I love the drone idea,” Jodi said. “I could

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      paint it to look like a ghast!” She scratched her chin. “But what if Doc takes control of it remotely with advanced technology from the twenty-third century?”

      “You’re right,” said Ash. “A drone is too risky.”

      Jodi sighed. “I need a real science

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      project, anyway.” She perked up. “Wait. Did you say you’ve already done one this year?”

      “Yes,” Ash said. She pointed to a badge with the image of a test tube on it. “I made an exploding piñata. It uses carbon dioxide.”

      “A piñata you don’t even have to hit?” Jodi said. “It’s the invention of the century!”

      “The science is easy,” said Ash. “But it takes an artist to make it look like a real piñata.”

      Jodi grinned from ear to ear. “You want to be partners? You bring the science, I’ll bring the art.”

      Ash smiled back. “Sure.”

      A shrill whistle cut through the air.