THE SECRET FILES

THE SECRET FILES: (Better Than) Best Behavior“Amberrrr, you’re always trying to drag me down!”“Yes, because you are always off in space or trying to find your next party.”Mr. and Mrs. Chasey are riding in the back of a very expensive car. Mrs. Chasey is putting the finishing touches on her makeup, while her husband bounces excitedly, staring out the window.“I wonder if Daryl is going to spike the punch bowl…”“Cyrus,” Amber began, closing her mirror. “You need to be on your best behavior. The CEO of Bank of Steel will be there, and we’re trying to get a good partnership with him, remember?”Cyrus waved his hand in dismissal. “Please. I can do better than the best. I’m a Chasey!”“You said that before you jumped and broke the pool table once.”“And I broke it marvelously, didn’t I?” Cyrus gave a sly smile and leaned towards his wife.Amber, doing her best and successfully hiding her blush, pushed his face away. “We do not need you breaking anything today, including tables. You will be on your most polite behavior, even if it isn't your best.” She cleared her throat and went back to her makeup, signifying that the conversation was over, end of discussion.Cyrus huffed. “Fine.”They pulled up to the gala, and the two of them gracefully stepped out onto the entryway. Paparazzi began going nuts, taking pictures left and right. Cyrus took Amber’s hand with a smile, and the two of them walked past the press. Cyrus waved at all the photographers, while Amber walked like a model- a perfect picture shot at any angle. They entered through the doors and gazed upon a large, yet quiet, formal gathering. Light jazz was being played from the far side of the room, and circular tables were filled with polite, pristine banter between elites, the powerful, and the rich. Amber didn’t seem to notice, but many of the men in the room perked up in anticipation when they saw Cyrus.Amber straightened her back in confidence. “Now, let’s go find Mr. Walter and get that deal sorted out. Cyrus, are you-”Cyrus was not at her side.“AMBER!!!”Amber winced and shut her eyes, barely holding on to the pristine poise in her face. She barely opened them to look and see her husband scooping a drink excitedly at the punch bowl.“I SPIKED THE PUNCH BOWL, BUT DARYL ALREADY SPIKED IT!! NOW IT’S DOUBLE SPIKED!!! NOW THIS IS A PARTY!!!”While she was not surprised, Amber could only stare in shock.Cyrus took a big swig of the drink. “Hit it, band!”The jazz band kicked into full swing, playing loud and fast. Many of the men in the crowd saw this as their invitation to let loose, and the women slowly joined them in the festivities.Amber watched this all unfold in front of her, still attempting to maintain composure.Cyrus shimmied over to Amber. “Hey! I danced with Mr. Walter and I got us the deal!” He kissed her hard, leaving a very red Mrs. Chasey. “I told you I’m better than the best!”Amber looked at her beaming husband, and a smile appeared on her face. “I knew I could count on you.” Cyrus smiled more, as if her smile was the only thing he worked for.“Don’t drink too much now, okay?” Amber’s face went back to serious, but this time there was a twinge of a smile leftover.“Honey, I didn’t listen to you and things worked out- do you really think I’d stop now?” Cyrus danced off before Amber could say anything in protest.

THE SECRET FILES: My Type"I think you should go for it!""What?! Are you nuts?!"Oliver looked at Roxanne like she was crazy. Roxanne, being used to Oliver's "you're crazy" face, simply looked at him like he was the one being crazy. Both believed the other was the crazy one. The two of them walked out of the classroom and down the hall towards Oliver's locker."Homecoming is in two weeks, Ferguson." Roxanne explained. "If there was any time to ask Priscilla, it would be now!""But Roxanne, you know me," Oliver replied. "Every time I think about talking to her, I get all clammed up and I start stuttering because she's just so cool and-" He sighed. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”"Do I really know you?" Roxanne objected. "Why do you get so embarrassed around her, huh? Usually, a guy like you wouldn't be able to talk to any girl, but you talk to me just fine.""Yeah, cause you're not my type." Oliver said casually while he fiddled with the locker combination."Wha-" Roxanne almost got offended, but then she got an idea. "Hey! I'm a woman- why don't you practice asking out Priscilla with me-"Oliver's face soured. He turned to give Roxanne a look. "If I even pretended to ask you out, I wouldn't throw up from nerves- I'd throw up out of how gross that would be.""Okay, ouch. There's no reason to be so rude about it." Roxanne grumbled."What! It's true!" Oliver protested. He turned back to the lock. "I thought you liked the truth."Roxanne crossed her arms. "But I am cute! That's a factual piece of information."Oliver opened his locker. "Isn't beauty in the eye of the beholder? Isn't art subjective? All that jazz?""So now you're saying I'm ugly?!"Oliver grabbed his lunchbox. "Look, it's not like you have a crush on me or anything."Roxanne squinted her eyes. "Question dodger.""I probably didn't even pass your boyfriend test or whatever stupid standards you have for guys." He closed the locker and the two of them walked to the cafeteria."Hey- is it too much to ask for a man to speak multiple languages, have combat abilities, AND be a skilled alter?" Roxanne said."Wow. What a simple girl with simple needs." Oliver rolled his eyes. "Surprised salary wasn't part of your criteria.""Well, you see." Roxanne began. "Given the fact we're in high school, I don't expect my future husband to have a six figure salary JUST yet. If anything, college plans will be factored into my requirements."Oliver sighed. He mumbled under his breath, "And this is why I don't find you attractive.""So you DO think I'm ugly!!!" Roxanne yelled."Those standards are something that only that one rock alter can fit… you know, the Chasey guy.""Flint Chasey?!" Roxanne proceeded to gag. "Ew, why even bring him up?!""Oh, I don't know…" Oliver knew he struck a nerve. He grinned. "Remember that magazine you had?"Roxanne shoved her hand over Oliver's mouth. "Stop it!" she hissed.Oliver pushed the hand away and lifted up his head. "150 Fun Flint Facts?" he said a little louder.Roxanne became more frantic in her attempts to shut Oliver up, now just swatting at Oliver's face. Oliver simply lifted up his arm to block her. "It was purely for investigation purposes!!!" Roxanne said. "And besides, I was TWELVE!!!" She said that last part slightly louder and looked around awkwardly to make sure people heard.Oliver began laughing. "What, so Flint isn't your dream man? He knows French and German- you told me that fact several times when we were younger cause you thought he was a spy…""SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" Roxanne screamed."He's one of the most powerful rock alters in the country, and I'm sure that a rock to the face is pretty decent combat! And do I even need to bring up his net worth?""I'M NOT LISTENING ANYMORE!" Roxanne began walking faster.Oliver caught up easily. "What's the matter? Why are you getting so flustered over a guy? Are you going to throw up?"Roxanne pointed down a hall. "HEY! IT'S PRISCILLA!!!"Oliver ducked. "SHOOT! WHERE?!"Roxanne grinned."YOU LITTLE-"

THE SECRET FILES: Genuine ParentingAuthor's Note: This is one of my favorite stories that I've writtenOliver was a young kid when he was adopted by Hank and Pamela Brooks- he had just barely started first grade. Oliver didn't know what to expect when he stepped into the Brooks' home for the first time.The house was just begging for a child to live in it. The couch in the living room could seat four people. There were two rooms that were completely unused, holding only a couple of random odds and ends. There were dozens of pictures of Mr. and Mrs. Brooks over the years, but the frames looked lonely against the vast, blank wall that held them.Oliver was quiet. Silent. Oliver stepped carefully around the house, trying not to interfere with anything. He did well in school, but at home, Oliver didn't say much. He'd say a few words here or there- just enough to get the point across. Most of the time, he'd express himself through his actions.Pamela was able to meet Oliver where he was, her being the more calm one between her and her husband. They developed a sweet, quiet relationship. And that was with stories.Oliver loved reading books. Well, Oliver didn’t do much reading, that was Pamela’s job. Oliver would grab a book from the shelf, carry it over to Pamela, and place it gently in front of her- whether that be in her lap while she knitted, on the table while she was sorting through mail, or any other means of getting her visual attention (one time, Oliver was too impatient and slid a book under the bathroom door while Pamela was using it). Noticing the book, Pamela would look at Oliver and smile. Sometimes, she would say that she needed a minute or two, but most of the time, she'd take the book and get up from wherever she was doing. A big grin would appear on Oliver's face, and he'd run over to the big couch and climb into it. There, he’d kick his feet happily until Pamela walked over and sat down next to him. There, she’d quietly read the story, making sure to tilt the book so that Oliver could see it, who was peering over her arm with the biggest eyes.Hank, on the other hand, had a few concerns. He knew Oliver had issues with his biological father. He was horrified at how Oliver was treated. But, on top of that, not only was Hank a much more heavy built guy, he also wasn’t particularly known for being calm and quiet. He’d come home from work every day with a big “Honey! I’m home!” and proudly kiss his wife until she was giggling uncontrollably. He sang (horribly but confidently), he laughed (loud and long), and he loved telling stories that made everyone laugh.But around Oliver, Hank refused to do anything that he believed would make Oliver upset. He tried being more like his wife. He didn't talk loud. He didn't tell big stories. He behaved much more calmly, even making sure to answer phone calls from his friends and family outside. However, that didn’t stop Hank from making sure Oliver knew how much he loved him. Hank would say he loved him every night before bed and every morning before he left for work (although then it would be said much more quietly. It didn’t mean Hank meant it any less, Oliver was just a rather light sleeper). Hank would also take Oliver and Pamela on outings, like eating ice cream, going to the park, or to the library to let Oliver pick out a new book.But despite everything Hank did, simply holding out his hand for a fist bump would be met with a reluctant tap from Oliver’s palm.Pamela reassured Hank to give it some time, that he would find something that he and Oliver could bond over, but Hank wasn’t so sure.“I know you don’t want to scare Oliver,” Pamela said one night in bed, “but how is Oliver supposed to be comfortable around you when you’re not even comfortable with yourself?”“I don’t know…” Hank sighed. “I want to cheer for him when he finishes his vegetables. I want to pick him up and spin him around. I want... to be a dad to him, you know? But that’s not going to happen if he only sees me as some monster… like his father. I can't even bring myself to ask him to call me anything more than 'Hank.'" He put his head in his hands.His wife put a hand on his shoulder. “Honey, give him more credit than that- he’s a smart and observant kid. His mother wasn’t entirely good to him either, but we figured out how to click. I think you should try to be yourself. Your genuine self.”“I’ll think about it,” Hank replied.He did think about it, like his wife always suggested, but he always came to the same conclusion: be calm. It's what Oliver needs.Until one fateful day.It was the weekend. Pamela had just taken a chicken pot pie out of the oven. Oliver was standing on one of the chairs, just finishing setting the table. Hank was on the front porch, talking to his brother.Oliver smelled the air and smiled. He loved chicken pot pie.“Oliver, sweetie, could you go tell Hank that dinner is ready?” Pamela asked.Oliver nodded. He, carefully and methodically, slid off the chair before walking over to the front door. He opened the door, and just as he was about to tap Hank to get his attention-Hank let out a big laugh. “… and then Rick told me-” Hank lowered his voice in a mocking tone, putting a hand on his hip, “‘Gosh, Hank! Could you be any more stupid?’ Yeah! You don’t remember him saying that? Oh- wait, you were busy trying to get with Stacy Vess! She was so annoying- what the heck did you even see in her?-” he then did his best valley girl impression, snapping his fingers in a Z formation as he talked- “‘Ben, buy me lipstick! Ben, take me to the movies! Ben, I want to go out for dinner!’ No, I’m not going to stop teasing you about that! You-”Hank stopped, having turned to see Oliver looking up at him with big eyes.“Ben, I’ve got to go- I think dinner’s ready.”He hung up the phone, cleared his throat, and calmly asked. “Is dinner ready?”Oliver nodded, refusing to take his eyes off Hank. It looked like Oliver thought about something, but Oliver ran off before Hank could think any more of it.Dinner started like normal, with quiet conversation with the occasional clink of a fork against a plate. Except this time, Oliver couldn’t stop staring at Hank. Oliver also ate quickly- another oddity, and carefully climbed out of his chair. He ran to the bookshelf. He stopped and carefully picked through each book, before finding the one he wanted to read. He ran back over to the table, holding the book high above his head, and placed it gently…… in front of Hank.“Are… are you sure?” Hank asked.Oliver nodded.Hank nervously wiped his hands off on the napkin and picked up the book- "Click, Clack, Moo- Cows That Type." Oliver grinned, ran over to the couch, and kicked his feet excitedly. Hank looked over at Pamela, who motioned for him to go sit with Oliver.Hank sat down next to Oliver, but Oliver didn't scoot in to see the book. Instead, he continued to stare at Hank, with those same big eyes."Click, Clack, Moo- Cows That Type." Hank read the title.Oliver stared.Hank took a deep breath and read, nice and slowly, "Farmer Brown has a problem. His cows like to type. All day long he hears click clack moo, click clack moo, clickety clack moo."Oliver tilted his head in confusion."At first," Hank continued calmly, "He couldn't believe his ears. Cows that type? Impossible. Click clack moo, click clack moo, clickety clack moo."Suddenly, a hand appeared on the page. Oliver was stopping Hank from reading. Hank looked over at Oliver, who shook his head."Read big." Oliver said."Big..?" Hank repeated questioningly.Oliver nodded. "Big."Hank flipped back to the first page. He took a deep breath."Farmer Brown had a problem. His cows-" he gasped quietly, "-liked to type!"A smile appeared on Oliver's face.Hank, realizing what Oliver meant, returned the smile. "Alll dayyy looong" he said with an irritated tone, "he hears click clack MOOOOOO."Oliver grinned."Click clack….. MOOOOOO!"Oliver began to giggle."Clickity…" Hank paused, letting the anticipation set in. Oliver leaned in excitedly. "Clack…" Hank took a deep breath, and Oliver tried to hold in his laugh. "MOOOOOO!"Oliver fell over, too busy laughing to keep himself upright.Hank looked over at Pamela, who's smiling face had a tear in it."At first," Hank continued, "he couldn't believe his ears! 'Cows that type?!'" He said with a deep, southern farmer-y voice. "That's pretty impressive with the hooves," he said with his normal voice. He leaned in towards Oliver. "Do YOU know any cows that can type?"Oliver nodded his head excitedly."You- HUH?!" Hank exclaimed.Oliver laughed again."I don't remember introducing you to any cows!" Hank scratched his head with the book. "Did I take you to a farm without realizing it? Hm. I'll take your word for it. I'm probably just getting old. Well, either which way, I think you'd disagree with this Farmer Brown. You know why?" He then switched back to the farmer's voice. 'IMMMM-POSSIBLE!'"Oliver laughed.Hank continued to read the story, making sure to draw each page out dramatically. Not just for the storytelling sake, but just so that Hank could hear his son laugh for as long as he could. When Hank inevitably reached the end, he sighed, a bit sad that the story couldn't last forever.But Oliver had a different plan."Again!" He yelled excitedly.. . .Author's note: That's the end of the story proper, but I did write a couple of epilogues of sorts.. . .From then on, Oliver would go exclusively to Hank for story time. Hank happily accepted his new role, but, every once in a while, he'd get his wife to help act out a few scenes. Oliver would watch Hank in awe.While Oliver doesn't remember this day in particular, possibly due to how casually Oliver behaved, Hank will never forget the moment. Hank had just finished his third book. It was getting late, and Oliver had to calm down for bedtime at some point, and Hank told Oliver that, unfortunately, that was the last book he could read to him."That's okay!" Oliver said as he hopped off the couch. "Thanks, Dad!"Hank couldn't stop smiling that night.. . .Eventually, though, things changed, as all things do. Oliver didn't need Hank to read him stories. Because Oliver had a new goal."This is 'Click Clack Moo- Cows That Type!’ It's my favorite book." An eight year old Oliver held the book up to his mother's stomach. "Mom told me that babies can hear stuff outside of the tummy, so I'm gonna read this to you! And all the other ones!"So every day, Oliver read a new story to his unborn sister (but occasionally he’d reread a few favorites or stories he thought his sister liked). He'd use all sorts of tones and voices as he read, all while making sure to exaggerate with his arms. He learned a lot from his dad. Sometimes, Oliver would put a hand on his mom's stomach and he'd feel a little kick. Oliver assured his mom that this was Holly's way of laughing before she could.The months flew by, and let's just say that nobody was surprised when the first thing Holly did when she was born was laugh.

THE SECRET FILES: Hair CareOliver stared at himself in the mirror. He held up a hairbrush, looked between it and himself, then he shrugged, dropped the brush, and threw on his beanie.If only the other guys could be that fast when they're getting ready.Or at least learn to take proper turns."DON'T YOU DARE GET ANY DYE ON MY PRISTINE HAIR!!!" Flint screamed."IT'S MY TURN TO LOOK IN THE MIRROR!" Vale yelled back. "IF YOU DON'T WANT THE DYE GETTING ON YOUR CRAP, MOVE IT!"Vale had to touch up his dyed hair while Flint had to perform his seven step hair care routine. And there was only one bathroom. One tiny bathroom. That can only fit one at a time. And they were on a time crunch.It was a match made in hell."FINE!" Flint huffed and stormed out of the bathroom. He began spraying down his hair again, still set on continuing his routine."Hey- HEY!" Vale exclaimed. "WATCH WHERE YOU SPRAY THAT HAIRSPRAY! WHY DOES IT EVEN HAVE GLITTER IN IT?!"Oliver sat on the edge of the hotel bed, duffle bag in his lap. He could only see what unfolded outside of the bathroom, but that didn't mean he couldn't hear their argument devolve into madness.Flint finished putting in the hairspray, and he impatiently tapped his foot. "O-KAYYY, I'M DOOONE. I NEED MY BRUSH NOW."A hairbrush flew out of the bathroom clonked Flint square in the face.Flint awkwardly fumbled and caught the hairbrush. "I DON'T HAVE MY CONTACTS IN, YOU IMBECIL!""I DELIBERATELY THREW IT KNOWING THAT INFORMATION, GENIUS!"Suddenly, Flint screamed. "YOU GOT DYE ON MY HAIRBRUSH?!""YOU LEFT IT SITTING NEXT TO MY DYE! WHAT'D YOU THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?!"Oliver realized he never had to wonder what it was like to live with multiple sisters."IS THAT HOW IT'S GOING TO BE?!" Flint screamed. "YOU'RE GOING TO GET A WHOLE FACE FULL OF GLITTER!""DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME!" Vale screamed."NO NEED!" Flint grinned devilishly as he aimed the spray. "THIS HAIRSPRAY HAS AN EXTRA LONG RANGE!""HOPE YOU LIKE PURPLE THEN!". . .Flint and Vale sat in the hotel lobby, cross-armed and seething. Vale sparkled like the stars in the night sky. Flint's hair had streaks of purple, the color reminiscent of an ancient king. Oliver looked like he had just witnessed a murder."Woah!" Roxanne exclaimed as she approached the two of them. "I love what you guys did with your hair-""SHUT UP!" they both screamed at the same time.

THE SECRET FILES: Blushing"'Bend your arms at the elbow at a slight angle. It's subtle enough to look natural, but it also accentuates your arm muscles'?"Oliver sighed and folded the paper in his hands. "And this is why you don't have a boyfriend, Roxanne." he mumbled to himself as he put it in his pocket. Roxanne had written an entire document to "help" Oliver flirt, but it comprised of so many specific sections and subsections and footnotes and highlights and… Yeah, this wasn't going to do much.His best friend, Jett, had tried giving him pointers as well."You just need to just let the words flow, man!" Jett told him. "Girls like it when you're a little sappy.""Yeah, right." Oliver rolled his eyes. "Did your 'girlfriend' tell you that?"Jett dropped his arms in annoyance. "Come on, dude! Why don't you believe I've got a girlfriend, huh? After all this time?""Because I've never met her in the, what, four years you've been supposedly dating?" Oliver said."It's a long distance thing!!!" Jett protested. "She lives in Colorado, remember?""Uh-huh.""Look, you'll know what to say. It'll come out so naturally, you won't even realize it. Heck, I don't even realize half of the stuff I say!""That's because you don't care about what you say, period.""Ha! Maybe."Oliver knew that him getting choked up every time he saw Priscilla was a pretty easy thing to be teased about (everyone makes sure to never let it go), but how would you feel if the most gorgeous woman in the world looked in your direction?You'd feel exactly how Oliver felt just then.Turning the corner, chit-chatting with a group of girls, was Priscilla Harrison. She was already a couple of inches taller than Oliver, but that day she wore a flowing yellow sundress and pink two-inch heels. Her hair was a picture-perfect afro, topped off with her blooming pink flowers, the exact same shade as her shoes. Priscilla had her classic gold hoop earrings, and the gold bracelet on her wrist had a little pink jewels that matched everything else. She walked so confidently and proudly, she stood out even more against the crowd.One of the girls told something to Priscilla, and she began to laugh. Priscilla's laugh was contagious- she laughed so much she would nearly fall over, which made people laugh even more. Priscilla then said, in between laughs, something about how badly she ate the ground when she tried to do a difficult spin.Priscilla loved to roller skate (she's in the small, local skating club and has won a few of the competitions held between the neighboring towns), but she also spent a lot of time helping the elementary school. She wanted to be a principal after college, but, for now, she read books to the kids to help build up her resume. And, you know, because reading books to kids is incredibly fun.To say she radiated beauty would be an understatement.As she walked past, she noticed Oliver, smiled, and waved.Oliver's face turned bright red. His hair became pink, and he began slowly floating off the floor. Oliver quickly grabbed the lockers behind him and pulled himself onto the ground. He then waved back at Priscilla, both to return the greeting and to attempt to play it cool.Then, Priscilla looked down at Oliver's chest. "WAIT! Oh, my GOSH! Is that the Iron Giant?"Oliver grabbing whatever random T-shirt from the top of his drawer was the full extent of his morning wardrobe decisions, so Oliver didn't actually realize what he was wearing until he looked down himself.He looked back at Priscilla. "Yeah, yeah! It's one of my favorite movies.""No way- me too!!!" she beamed. "It's such an amazing story, and the animation is just so beautiful, I literally cry every time I watch the end…" Priscilla continued to praise the film.Somehow, Priscilla became more attractive than ever before.Priscilla snapped out of her trance and shook her head. "Woah! Sorry, I've been talking for WAY too long. So, uh, where'd you even get your shirt? I've got to get one for myself!"Oliver thought for a moment. "Oh- my mom got it for me for Christmas this year! I think she got it online…""Online? I'm going to look as soon as I get home!"One of the girls gave Priscilla a look. "Girl, you already have enough clothes as is. You're going to end up buying a whole outfit to go with it!""Sarah!" Priscilla laughed. "I promise I won't do that- I already have this skirt at home that would go so well with it- I swear!""And if it's off by a single shade or anything like that?" the other girl raised an eyebrow."Hey, hey! I take color coordination very seriously, Gabby!" Priscilla replied. "It can make a huge difference. And especially when it comes to lighting- oh my GOSH. I hate it when a color looks a certain way in my room but then the moment I step out of the house it's, like, ten times brighter-""And you think that matters in the slightest?" Gabby asked."It does," Oliver replied, smiling. "Or, at least, I can see how much it means to Priscilla. Priscilla's a new work of art every day when she comes to school. It's incredible."Oliver only realized what came out of his mouth when he saw the girls staring at him.Priscilla blushed. "Oh, thank you, Oliver! No one's ever said that to me.""Uh- UM." Oliver began backing up slowly, using the lockers as a support. His hair became an even brighter shade of pink, but not as pink as his face. "I, uh, I GOTTA GO. I LEFT THE STOVE ON OR SOMETHING!" He turned to run, but he tripped over a student digging through one of the bottom lockers, and Oliver fell flat onto the… ceiling. He pushed himself off, grabbed the top of the lockers, and began pulling himself down the hallway and turned the corner."See you in math!" Priscilla called out.Suddenly, she turned towards her friends. "AGH! That was so embarrassing! I just kept rambling on and on about The Iron Giant and clothes and barely gave him any time to talk and-""Priscilla. Relax." Gabby said. "Why do you get so worked up over him anyway? You've never acted like this with any guy in the past.""Yeah, you're acting like you just saw Michael Jackson or something." Sarah added."Because he's just so cute!" Priscilla buried her head in her hands. "And sweet, and I had the PERFECT chance to talk to him like a normal person and all I did was talk and talk and-""Girl, you're a serious case." Sarah took Priscilla's hand and began leading her down the hall. "Let's just get you to English."

THE SECRET FILES: Where There Is no Struggle, There Is no Jelly“Gosh, this lid is screwed on pretty tight.”Oliver twisted and tugged at a jar of jelly. He was simply trying to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but he didn’t think he’d have to get in a full on arm workout in order to do so. He twisted harder, but the jar lid wouldn't move.“Well this is pathetic to watch.”Oliver looked up and saw Roxanne standing across the bar. She held out her hand, waiting for Oliver to hand it to her.He sighed and tossed her the jar. “Good luck with it.”Roxanne smiled. “Oliver, I know all the tricks. I can open any jar I want.” She twisted at the lid, realized how stuck it was, and then took the jar and lightly tapped the lid end on the countertop. Then, she twisted again. Still wouldn’t budge. She ran the lid under water, hoping to loosen it. She twisted it again. Nope."How many tricks do you know, exactly?" Oliver asked.Roxanne was now shaking the jar violently. "As many as it takes to open this jar!"“Want me to go get Flint?” Oliver asked."Heck. No." Roxanne grunted as she pounded on the lid.Oliver rubbed his head. "I mean, the jar is made of glass. Glass is sand. Flint's rock powers could really come in handy.""Please." Roxanne began turning the jar. "Like I'd accept defeat and take the easy way out just like that. Besides, he'll probably just shatter the glass. Flint's way too full of himself to not force all of his power onto a small jar.""Maybe…" Oliver watched Roxanne struggle with the lid. "But I am hungry though.""Persistence can't happen without patience, Oliver!" Roxanne exclaimed. "You're going to get this jelly one way or another! Even if it takes all day!""All day?! Okay- I'm not that desperate for jelly!" Oliver turned back to his sandwich. "I'll just eat the sandwich without it." He grabbed the bread and was about to put his peanut butter sandwich together-A laser of light hit Oliver's bread. He dropped the bread in surprise. "Dude! You almost hit me in the eye! What the heck was the laser finger for?! Are you trying to make me blind?!”"I wasn't aiming for you!" Roxanne lowered her hand, a dim glow on her finger left over from firing. "You wanted a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and you're going to get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich! Now step away from that bread and let me do this or else I will aim for you!"Oliver took a few careful steps away. "I can't believe you're threatening my life over jelly."Vale, hearing all of the commotion, walked into the kitchen. He looked between Oliver staring sadly at his incomplete sandwich and Roxanne biting the jelly jar."Hey, why don't you at least let Vale try?" Oliver asked."Not a chance." Roxanne said in between biting the lid. "I don't think Vale's gloves are that grippy anyway.""First off, my gloves have plenty of grip." Vale replied. "Second, it's much more entertaining watching Oliver have a literal mental breakdown over a sandwich.""I'm not having a mental breakdown!" Oliver said. "I'm just hungry! And Roxanne's threatening to shoot me! Is it too much to ask the world for a gosh darn sandwich?!""Uh-huh." Vale sat down in one of the bar stools. "Sure.""Okay wise guy." Roxanne stopped gnawing on the jar. "If you're so high and mighty, why don't you try to open it?""I thought you said you didn't want to give up." Oliver said."This isn't giving up." Roxanne set the jar in front of Vale. "I just want to be assured that Vale knows the severity of this situation. This jar is literally impossible to open."Vale picked up the jar. He tugged on it once. He then set it down. "Eh, just get Flint to open it."Oliver eagerly pointed at Vale and looked at Roxanne. "THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING!!!""You're pathetic!" Roxanne snatched the jar up. "You're both pathetic! Where's your determination? Your drive?! Don't you want the internal gratification of accomplishing a difficult task yourself?!""Not for a stupid jar of jelly." Vale replied."UGH!" Roxanne went back to work.Flint burst into the kitchen. "Is someone in need of my assistance?"“NO.” Roxanne hissed.“If it’s entertaining.” Vale yawned.“I just want a sandwich…” Oliver sighed.Flint leaned over Roxanne. "And all of this over a measly glass jar?"Roxanne hunched over the jar. “This is none of your business!”“Oh, but it is my business.” Flint replied. “Do I need to remind you of my incredible abilities when it comes to the manipulation of rock and gems? Which would just so happen to include glass?”“Okay, hand the jar over to Flint.” Vale said. “I’m not listening to the musical number for the fifth time today.”"Alright, alright." Roxanne held up the jar. "But at least try to open it without shattering it."Flint picked the jar out of Roxanne's hand. "Thank you."Flint gripped the jar and twisted. It wouldn't move. "Hm. This jar is asking for more than my raw strength." Flint tossed the jar around in his hand. "I guess I'll have to use my magnificent powers this time!" He gripped the jar, concentrated hard, and-SMASH!The jar was shattered in Flint's hands. Thankfully, none of the glass flew anywhere, and Flint's skin couldn't get cut by glass. As for the jelly, however…Roxanne wiped jelly off of her eyes. "What did I tell you."Oliver looked down at his sandwich, now slathered in jelly. He picked up the bread, smushed it together with a schhhlop, and took a bite. "Finally." He said with a mouthful of sandwich.Flint stared at his ruined clothes in horror. He then looked in his hands- the jar lid was still tight on the top of the glass, despite the rest of the jar being in pieces. "WHY?!" He cried out.Vale stood up, wiping the jelly off of jacket. "Welp, sorry to hear about the jar, but that's about all the fun I can stand." He began to walk out of the kitchen. He then turned around. "Oh, but if you need help putting it back together…" He held up a small bottle. "I've got some gorilla glue." He grinned.

THE SECRET FILES: Flint's Morning Routine6AM sharp. Flint yawned and reached for the alarm. He picked it up- 6:28.Close enough.Flint, for as long as he can remember, had always been able to sleep through loud sounds, including alarm clocks. It might be because his dad threw a party for four days straight when he was born, or it could just mean that Flint was a heavy sleeper. No matter the reason, Flint made sure to set his alarms earlier than when he actually needed to be up to compensate.Before he ever steps out of the room, Flint gets fully dressed and ready to go. He had his schedule, sure, and today he supposedly wasn't going to have anything important until the evening, but that didn't mean that his mom wouldn't spring a surprise interview or sponsorship deal on him as soon as she saw him.There was a knock at the door. "Flint- your mother has scheduled a jewelry photoshoot with your sister's new line of products in L.A.. The jet is preparing for flight as we speak."And sometimes, the surprise happens before Flint's mom saw him at all.Well, Rock. Flint sighed. He stretched his arms out. Showtime."Thank you for telling me, Miss Jamie!" Flint called out.He grabbed a breakfast bar from the small shelf of snacks on the wall. Flint always woke up hungry, so he always ate a little something, even if he was going to have a meal not too long after on the jet (besides, with how much he moves around in the day, he needs every ounce of energy he can get). Holding the unwrapped bar in his teeth, he rummaged through his clothes. He pulled out his signature outfit, and, shoving the bar into his mouth, changed his clothes.Flint brushed his teeth while he made sure his clothes weren't wrinkled or tucked under something wrong. After brushing, Flint performed his twelve step hair and skin routine. He had to rush it, but even a swift routine had better results than a no-routine. A bit of this, a lot of that, and a mix of those later, he was ready. He did one final turnaround check, looked at himself in the mirror, and he winked. "Hello, handsome!"He quickly gathered his essentials into a duffle bag- his hair care products, his skincare products, toiletries, and an extra change of clothes. The butlers were usually very good with making sure Flint had everything he needed, but Flint liked knowing for sure that he had his important stuff on hand. He quickly brushed his hair one more time, threw it into the bag, and zipped it up.Flint slung the duffle bag over one shoulder and then grabbed his school backpack- something he rarely used since his tutor taught him in the sunroom down the hall. Flint would have to work on his homework on the plane, but he didn't mind. Looking out the window at all the clouds was Flint's favorite way of brainstorming.Flint opened the door and walked quickly down the stairs, hopping across the last few steps to save time. He was just about to get to the door when a voice called his name."Flint, dear!"Flint spun around and saw his mother making his way towards him."Did you pack your schoolwork?" she asked.Flint nodded. "Yes ma'am, I did.""Good." She kissed Flint on the forehead. "Now go and make me proud like you always do! I love you!""Love you too, Mom." He smiled and walked out the door."Oh- Flint!" Mrs. Chasey called out. "Don't forget your-"Flint held up his hand, and, out one of the open second story windows flew Flint's golden staff, which landed flawlessly into his grasp."That's my Chasey!" she beamed.Flint climbed into the backseat of the limo that would take him to the airport. He closed the door, put his seatbelt on, pulled some math homework out of his backpack and began working. Today was going to be a long day.

THE SECRET FILES: A Morning with HollyHolly woke up to the sound of her alarm. It's time for school. Yay…. She groaned and rolled out of the bed and onto the ground with a thud, taking the blanket with her. She slipped on her hedgehog slippers and walked into the kitchen. Luckily, the smell of breakfast will wake her up just fine."BACON!!!" she exclaimed. She scrambled over to the table, where a plate of eggs and bacon waited for her-The plate was snatched up by none other than her big brother, Oliver. "Good morning to you too. But have you gotten any soil today? And stuffing dirt into your boots before you leave doesn't count.""Ughhh, you're no fair!" Holly grumbled. "I'm hungry!""I promise the food will be just as good when you come back." Oliver said. He turned to the oven and smiled. "Especially when these… cinnamon rolls are done.""CINNAMON ROLLS?!" Holly yelled."Shh!" Oliver laughed a little. "Don't wake up Mom!""Too late!" their mom's voice called from down the hall.Oliver sighed and lightly smacked Holly on the head with a hand towel. "Just stand for a few minutes, Holly."Holly dashed over to the big window next to the living room that faced the morning sun where three giant flower pots sat. She tore off her slippers, rolled up her pajama pants, and dug her feet into the dirt. She reached over to a small table and picked up a hairbrush and brushed her hair out- ensuring that as much of it got sunlight as she could. She then took the hose (the Brooks family had a hose line installed inside the house) and watered the dirt she stood in. After positioning herself, she simply relaxed.Holly didn't know much about how everything worked when it came to her plant self (nor did she really want to- taking one look at Oliver's biology homework made her head hurt), but it didn't take a high school class to look at plants. Most plants kinda just stand and sway with the breeze. Sturdier plants with thick branches and strong roots could stand pretty still on its own and only get really shaken up in storms. She also thought about how horses sleep standing up. She's not a horse, of course, but she imagined that there's something that connects them together. Holly's sturdy branches were her bones, and when she relaxed, instead of flopping over like a rag doll, she simply just stood upright.So, Holly stood there, soaking up sun and nutrients. The smell of cinnamon filled the air, and Holly closed her eyes. You could easily fall asleep here. Heck, there had been many nights when Holly fell asleep in the pot and Oliver had to dig her out and carry her to bed.Sometimes, Holly wished her brother was a plant alter. He never really seemed to relax, even on family vacations to the mountains (which was Oliver's favorite place to be).One time, when Holly was really little, she dragged Oliver over to the flower pots and dug Oliver a spot for his feet. She was determined to get her brother to relax. He awkwardly stepped into the pot, and Holly patted the dirt down very carefully, ensuring everything sat nicely. Then, she hopped into her own pot. The sun shined, the window was open and letting in a wonderful breeze, and the dirt was cool. It was perfect. She beamed at Oliver, and Oliver did return the smile. But for Oliver, he was just, you know, standing in dirt."Breakfast is ready!"Holly snapped out of her trance. She eagerly yanked her legs out of the dirt and ran to the table, leaving behind a trail of dirty footprints. Holly began to climb into her seat-“Who left a trail of dirt in my living room?!?” Pamela Brooks yelled.Cinnamon rolls would have to wait.

THE SECRET FILES: Christmas Fright (a Twas the Night Before Christmas Parody)Twas the night before Christmas, in the house that was jollyNot a creature was stirring, with the exception of Holly;She sat behind the stockings on the chimney with fear,Knowing that St. Nicholas soon would be here;She couldn't get nestled all snug in her bed,While phantoms of sugar-plums played with her head;With Mom and Dad out cold as they napped,No one was there to help Holly when she gasped-Out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,Holly clutched the wooden bat, there was no time to scatter.Away to the window, she prepared to bash,She tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.The moon on the horizon of a long-dead lawnMade the entire world ghostly, the color long-gone.When, what to her terrified eyes should appear,But an animated sleigh, and eight mythical reindeer,With a dwarfish old driver, so vicious and quick,Holly knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.More feral than wolves his coursers they came,And he whistled, and shouted, and evoked them by name;"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"As dry leaves that swirl before the wild hurricane fly,When they meet with an obstacle, they surge to the sky;So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,With the sleigh full of coal, and St. Nicholas too.And then, in a heartbeat, Holly heard on the roofThe thundering and pawing of each rugged hoof.As she drew in her head, and was turning around,Breaking in through the chimney, Santa landed with a bound.He was dressed in fur, from his head to his foot,But his clothes were tarnished by the ashes and soot;A bundle of coal he had flung on his back-The punishment for falling short, for which there is no slack.His eyes twinkled unearthly. His dimples- how scary!His cheeks red like blood, his nose like a cherry!His sideways smile was wider than mostAnd the beard of his chin was as white as a ghost;The stump of a pipe he clutched tight in his teeth,And smoke circled his head like a snake seeking meat;He had a broad face and a stubby round belly,That shook when he laughed, like a devilish melody.He was chubby and plump, a terrifying elf,And Holly laughed when she saw him, in nervousness- needing help;A snap of his head and a wink in his eye,Soon gave Holly to know he's sparing her demise;He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,And filled stockings with coal; then turned with a smirk,And laying his finger aside of his nose,And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;Holly sprang up in bed. Just a nightmare, she can feel.Her brain had fed lies- Santa's not real,But she heard him screech, despite waking from her fright,"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-fright!"

THE SECRET FILES: Alone"You're a weird guy. Did you know that?"Holly walked outside to see Vale sitting on a railing overlooking a parking lot and a highway. The group was at a motel (to Flint's horror), but, no matter where they went, Vale always opted to spend a good chunk of the evening outside. Alone.As Holly closed the door, the sounds of Roxanne, Oliver, and Flint loudly talking to each other faded away."Weird, huh?" Vale replied with a small turn of his head towards Holly."Well, not Flint weird- he's full of himself. Not Roxanne weird- she's overanalytical and crazy. Oliver's more of a nervous wreck weird. But you… you're like a… an 'I don't care' weird."Holly sat on the ground and scooted her legs through the railing bars. Swinging her feet, she wasn't afraid of heights, but she was perplexed by how nonchalant Vale was about sitting on the edge."Wouldn't call it weird." Vale said. "That's just me.""So… do you like being by yourself all the time?" Holly asked."Eh." Vale shrugged. "Feelings are kind of irrelevant to whatever is going on in my life. But sometimes, you are your own best company, you know? You know yourself best.""Well, you can still be your best friend and still be with other people, right?" Holly said. "I sit and imagine stuff all the time in my own head, even when I'm with my friends. Can't you just do that with us?""Imagining isn't the same thing as being by yourself. But, God, if you guys weren't so loud, maybe I would hear my thoughts.""So you like- no, wait, don't mind being lonely?""Being alone isn't the same as being lonely." Vale said."But… isn't 'lone' in 'alone'-?"Vale turned to Holly. "Look, bud, you're pretty observant. You like to soak everything in by asking a bajillion questions. Why don't you just try being alone for yourself? Let the breeze flow thoughts through your head. Watch the cars go by. Soak in the silence. You might like it."Holly shook her head a little. "Uh, I'm not sure. I don't like being by myself."Vale took out two juice boxes from his jacket pocket. "Figured as much. Plus, I'm not sure how happy Oliver would be if I let you wander off alone." He tossed one of them to Holly.Holly fumbled and caught the box, tore off the straw, and stabbed it through the top."How about you stay here instead?""Really?" Holly gasped happily through sips of juice. "You don't want to be lonely anymore?""Hold your horses. First off, it's still not lonely- it's alone. Second, we're still going to be by ourselves. Just… in the same general vicinity.""Okay!!" Holly began swinging her feet excitedly. "I'm glad I can keep you company.""No talking, though." Vale added. "It's supposed to be quiet."Holly zipped her fingers across her lips and threw away an imaginary key. She gave a thumbs up.Vale shook his head. He looked out across the scene. Him and Holly eased into the peace and quiet. Blobs of cars and headlights zipped along the road in the distance. The breeze carried a plastic water bottle across the concrete, creating a soft tap tap tap as it hit the pavement. The breeze then ran through Vale's head, this time carrying the sound of Holly finishing the last of the juice box. She wasn't wasting a single drop. A smile broke through his cheeks for a brief moment.Maybe being alone didn't have to be so lonely after all.

THE SECRET FILES: Cyrus Chasey and the PrincessAmber Chasey, most days, was calm and collected, and she could handle stress.Today, however, was not her day."No no no," Amber sternly said on the phone, "I need turquoise flowers, not sky blue. Please correct this immediately." She hung up and dialed another number. She grew a bit more agitated as she listened. "What do you mean you're out of steak? I set up this catering weeks ago! Just- just figure it out!" She hung up, and she collapsed onto the couch. Throwing her hand over her face, she sighed. "This can't be happening. Not today.""Mrs. Chasey, ma'am?""What is it, Harold…" she groaned without bothering to look. "Is the golf course on fire or something?""Um, yes, actually…" Harold, the butler, replied. "Word must travel faster than I can."Amber shot up. "WHAT?!""But do not be alarmed! Please don't be alarmed." Harold was professional, but the slight quiver in his voice made it clear that he was closer to begging for Amber to spare his life than simply relaying information. "The sprinkler systems were turned on- it got rid of most of the fire, and the damage is minimal. I can assure you that your gathering tonight is not ruined.""But with everything else going wrong, it might as well be!" she exclaimed. Amber collapsed back onto the couch. "Just… just leave me alone for a while. I can't handle all of this right now."The butler turned and left without another word, not even daring to bring up how Flint accidentally destroyed one of the lion statues at the front gate, and him and his brothers were desperately working to try to put it back together before she noticed.Amber then heard footsteps. "Whoever it is, it better be good news, or else.""It's better than that! It's your loving husband!" Mr. Chasey strode into the living room as if he was expecting an applause.He was shocked to see his wife exasperated and defeated. Quickly rushing to her side, he exclaimed, "Honey- what's wrong? I haven't even done anything to make you upset with me yet!""Then you'd be the exception today." Amber sighed. "Nothing is going well today."Cyrus replied, "Ohhh, yeah. I thought I heard you talk about the steak and the flowers on the phone. That lion must've been the cherry on top, wasn't it?""The WHAT?!""Nevermind!" Cyrus quickly said. "Look, I know you've got this. You always have a way of getting things in order! Remember the swarm of turkeys that bombarded our Hawaii statue unveiling?""I know, I know," Amber replied, "but there's just so many things that are falling apart so quickly- today, of all days. There’s no time to fix anything- I might as well just cancel the whole thing!""CANCEL?!" Cyrus cried. "A PARTY?!""Cyrus, this is a professional gathering, not a gala.""NO ONE'S CANCELING ANYTHING ON MY WATCH!" Cyrus began doing something that always made Amber worried- he began to think."Whatever crazy ideas you have, please keep in mind…" Amber said. "The gala is tonight."Cyrus paced back and forth, list in thought. "Yes, yes, I'm taking care of everything! Nobody makes my wife feel like dirt! Not when I'm around! And then, I'm going to make you feel better!" He then cleared his throat. "HAROLD, MY MAN! Get over here!"Harold quickly walked into the living room. "Yes, sir?""Tell the restaurant to make a trip to that meat market off the highway, and give them as much money as they need to get there, get all the meat in stock, get back, and cook it. Also order beer. People like beer. Then tell the flower people to place the flowers in the shady parts of the patio- nobody will notice the off color if the whole bunches are in the shade! And as for the grass, spray-paint it! Or, wait! Better yet, tell the boys to get their paintball guns when they finish with the lion statue. Let ‘em have a little fun. But when they do finish with the lion statue, get the girls to look at it. There's a good chance the head might be put on backwards."Harold was jotting everything down on a notepad. "And as for everything else, sir?"Cyrus nonchalantly picked up one of the many abstract marble statues laying around the mansion. He turned to face Harold. "Tell them that if it's not up to my wife's standards, they'll have to deal with her very.” The statue began to crack. “Very.” More cracks “Very.” The statue crumbled. “Very supportive husband.” He brushed off his hands, still keeping his eyes fixated on Harold. ”She's been through so much this morning alone, and I will NOT tolerate her being irritated by anyone else other than ME. Understand that?"Harold nodded, turned, and quickly walked away.Cyrus turned to his wife, who was in the middle of adoring all the reasons why she married him in the first place. "Now, about making you feel better…"He scooped her up in his arms with ease, and Amber laughed a little- equal parts nervousness and anticipation. "Honey, what are you doing?"Cyrus gave her his signature mischievous grin. "I think I just freed up your schedule for the rest of the day, didn't I?" He kissed on the cheek and nuzzled her neck.Amber, who was now blushing, smiled and ran her hand down his chest. "I suppose you did. But I think we should still tell everyone how terribly busy we'll be.""Mmm-hm!" Cyrus hummed as he kissed his wife on the lips.He carried her up the stairs like a heroic prince, taking his princess far, far away from all the stress, kissing her up and down the whole time.

THE SECRET FILES: The NoteOliver, still in bed and had barely just put on his glasses, squinted at the sticky note left on his hand, fiddling with his phone in the other. He lifted the phone to his ear and waited.Roxanne answered immediately. "I'm impressed- you completed all of my challenges far sooner than I imagined! Well done!""What, no…" Oliver rubbed his eyes. "What… what on earth are you talking about? I'm calling about this note you left.""On your bike?""No.""On the cereal box?""No.""In the washing machine?""No- no- wait, how many sticky notes are there?""Unimportant information- just tell me what note you're looking at." Roxanne replied.Oliver looked up to see dozens of sticky notes covering various items in just his room alone."Uh, right." Oliver said. "The one on my hand. It's complete gibberish.""Gibberish?" Roxanne exclaimed. "Are you calling Latin gibberish?""Wha- why do you think I'd be able to read Latin?!" Oliver asked."It's not about understanding it, it's about the thrill of the mystery!" Roxanne replied. "Don't you want to know what it says?""Yeah… so I called you.""That defeats the whole point!" Roxanne said. "You clearly don't have a drive for adventure.""This isn't about adventure, Rox," Oliver explained, "this is just me wondering what the heck you're doing.""Making fantastic use of the spare key your family gave me!" Roxanne replied."But… this isn't an emergency." Oliver replied. "We gave you it for emergencies only.""Oliver, an emergency is just a situation you haven't planned for. I'm helping you prepare for any situation using fun and engaging activities!""So… stuff like how to put out a fire are written on these sticky notes… in Latin?""Exactly!" Roxanne cheered. "But there are also a few in a mix of Egyptian hieroglyphics and Wingdings! Then, after translating, you have to figure out which step goes with what plan AND the order it goes in! If you need help, recruit your family members! It can become a family bonding moment! I'm literally creating new memories for you guys to share that not only will last a long time, but will help you live a long time! Isn't that exciting?""I'm… just going to clean up all of these before my parents think some crazy serial killer broke into the house." Oliver sighed.

WELCOME TO THE SECRET FILESGood job! You clicked the underlined word. That's going to be a running theme in the character pages. Maybe you should click more underlined words. Be wary, though! There will be some red herrings!(If you're found this page after finding some of the other pages first, then you still did a good job! You charted your own course and dove right in to find things for yourself.)