The North Pole Challenge (Flea's Five Christmases, #1) (12 page)

             
“Hurry up, you’re late,” Vork called to someone in the hallway.

             
“Sorry, Mr. Vork.”

             
Moments later, the first student strolled into the classroom. He tried to give Vork a high-five but the older elf just shook his head. While Niko and Vork were both very thin and looked miserable, this new elf had neither of those two characteristics. He still had the same pointy elf features but his face was pudgy and he wore a wide grin. He certainly looked friendly enough but there was one thing about him that worried Flea: his outfit. The elf’s clothes looked nothing like Flea’s, despite the fact that it was still a very strange ensemble. The pudgy elf wore a big green shirt with a picture of a Christmas tree on it that actually had blinking lights – the first article of clothing Flea had ever seen with working lights. As if the shirt wasn’t weird enough, the rest of his outfit consisted of red-and-white striped pants (the pattern exactly like the color scheme of the dormitory’s hallways) and a pair of shoes that were shaped like old-fashioned wooden sleds. The elf was quite a sight and at least Flea felt like he wasn’t the worst-dressed elf in the class – unless that was how
all
the others elves dressed.

             
The new elf walked over to Flea, who instinctively backed away when he thought he was about to be attacked. But Flea couldn’t escape the elf’s grip. He was lifted off his feet in a tight bear hug, the most unlikely welcome that Flea ever received.

             
“I
like
your style,” the elf said when he put Flea down and looked over the odd elf outfit. “I know a lot of the other elves might be freaked out by you being here but it’s just about the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

             
Flea didn’t quite know what to say to this goofy elf, who upon closer inspection seemed to have a few wispy patches of facial hair above and below his big smile.

             
“Thanks, I think,” Flea finally said. “My name is Flea.”

             
“I’m Minko,” the bigger elf said. “It’s great to meet you, Flea. I can’t
wait
for class to start.” Minko was so excited that he could hardly stand still. He reminded Flea of a kid he’d gone to school with who was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder. Minko must have realized that he was acting too hyper because he suddenly calmed down, the ever-present smile on his face finally disappearing. “I just hope it goes much better than the
last time
I was here.”

             
“What do you mean the
last
time?” Flea asked as he became worried by Minko’s mood swing toward gloom.

             
“Someone else is coming,” Vork said.

             
While Flea hadn’t heard Minko’s approach until he was just outside the door, the next student’s voice echoed down the hallway.

             
“This isn’t fair, I shouldn’t be here,” she complained loudly enough so that
Flea
blushed from her tirade. “I already know everything!”

             
“Uh oh, I know who
that
is,” Minko whispered to Flea.

             
Since Minko sounded so nervous, Flea expected a big-and-bad she-elf to come stomping in. Flea had been tortured by his fair share of females bullies over the years – in fact, girls were usually far more brutal to deal with than boys.

             
“You are an elf and since you don’t have any other special ability useful to the North Pole, your first priority should be building,” Vork told her.

             
“Whatever,” she said and swept past the older elf and into the classroom.

             
Flea was instantly dumbfounded by her beauty, as her elfish features were much softer than any other elf Flea had seen so far. She also wore fashionable (and therefore expensive) clothes just like all the other popular girls with whom Flea had ever gone to school, though she was by far the prettiest Flea had ever seen. Unfortunately, she didn’t look quite as beautiful with her nose turned up and a sneer across her face, which was her reaction the moment she saw Flea and Minko.

             
“Are you sure there’s not
another
class I could possibly take?” she asked Vork sweetly. The old elf was far too wise to fall for her sudden kindness, as she was obviously accustomed to getting her way.

             
“This is the only one, now please take a place behind one of the tables.”

             
The girl groaned in displeasure before walking dejectedly toward the table farthest away from Flea and Minko.

             
“Don’t worry about her, she’s just embarrassed because her style isn’t as good as ours,” Minko whispered to Flea.

             
At first, Flea thought the bigger elf was joking but Minko’s face did not contain the slightest hint that he was anything but serious. The three students wondered if any more students would arrive but Vork closed the door and walked toward the front of the class.

             
“Okay, it’s time to begin class.”

             
The girl elf breathed sharply and Flea saw that she was staring with dread at the two other students in the room with her.

             
“
Pleeeease
don’t say it’s just me, the weirdo and the new guy,” she said.

             
“Hey, I’m not new,” Minko responded, clearly offended by what she’d said.

             
“Duh,” she shot back at him.

             
“That’s enough. In this classroom, I will not respond to any questions or comments when you haven’t first raised your hand,” Vork said. “Now I’m going to start by taking attendance.”

             
“Attendance for only three of us?” she asked.

             
Vork ignored the question and read the first name. “Flea?”

             
Flea raised his hand.

             
“Your name is
Flea
?” she asked, barely able to suppress a mocking laugh. Flea wanted to explain that it was only a nickname but she didn’t give him the chance. “What a dumb name but I guess it matches that outfit you’re wearing.”

             
“Minko?” Vork asked, still looking down at the attendance list on his clipboard. Minko dutifully raised his hand before Vork read off the last of the three names. “Rome?”

             
The girl sighed but didn’t raise her name until Vork repeated it five times. With attendance taken, Vork put down the clipboard.

             
“Let’s get started,” Vork said. “Anyone in the mood for a pop quiz?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Making First Impressions

Vork clapped his hands and Flea watched as the tabletop in front of him flipped open, revealing a number of simple building materials: wood, nails, a hammer, a saw, paint and a brush. The idea of a pop quiz caused Flea’s heart to pound, as he remembered that Niko built a bike with even fewer supplies, a task that Flea felt totally unable to tackle. He forced himself to take a deep breath and hoped this quiz would be much easier.

              “I know that
some
of you have taken this class before…” Flea looked around to see that Minko and Rome both blushed. “…but I need to judge how much everyone knows already or if maybe
some
of us have gotten better over the years since he last had class,” Vork said.

             
Minko – who had seemed ready to talk about anything before – suddenly avoided meeting Flea’s questioning gaze.

             
“It’s been
years
since you last had class?” Flea whispered to Minko.

             
The bigger elf did not answer the question and instead pointed to the front of the class. “Shhh, you should pay attention to this.”

             
“I’m about to show an image of a product that I expect you to reproduce,” Vork explained. “Pay careful attention to every possible detail.”

             
The elderly elf pushed a button on the front table and a huge hologram of a toy chest appeared in the center of the room. The image quickly rotated a single time but the chest appeared simple to Flea, whose mind instinctively registered the intricate details of the woodwork. Flea glanced over at Minko to see the big elf staring intently – almost desperately – at the hologram. And even though Rome tried to appear cool and indifferent, she kept her eyes aimed directly at the hologram the entire time. After only a few seconds, the three-dimensional image of the toy chest disappeared, replaced by a large holographic zero.

             
“We need more time to study it,” Rome complained.

             
“
Real
builder elves wouldn’t have needed nearly as much time as I gave so consider yourselves lucky,” Vork said. “It’s time to start building…” The older elf swept his hand through the big zero, thus starting the timer. “…
now
.”

             
For the first five seconds, Flea watched as the hologram counted up to five. He didn’t realize the sense of urgency until he glanced over at Minko and Rome and saw that they were both rushing to begin. Flea started by grabbing a piece of wood and some nails but he was so nervous that he nearly dropped the hammer on his foot. But once he focused on the picture of the toy chest in his mind, his instincts kicked in and his hands began moving as if on their own.

             
Though Flea had been on a TV show watched by millions of viewers across the country, he never felt as much pressure as right now with the clock running and Vork watching his every move. Flea’s mind and hands were focused on the task, but this was the first time he was ever in his ‘building zone’ when other thoughts came to him, worried thoughts about what he might be doing wrong. He hammered and sawed and nailed and painted exclusively with his right hand, as his left served more of a support role in picking up materials or steadying them while he worked. Flea realized that his left hand should be playing a more active role in the building process but when he tried to hammer with it, he struck the nail at a bad angle, causing it to jut awkwardly out of the side of the toy chest.                           

             
Flea glanced up to see that Vork was watching him closely so he fixed his mistake by pulling out the nail and hammering it in correctly with his right hand. He abandoned the left-hand idea and focused on building the toy chest as quickly and accurately as possible, allowing his natural ability to completely take over. Several times, Flea was tempted to peek over at Rome and Minko to see how far along they were but those were important seconds he could not afford to waste, especially since he already had to fix one mistake. He just hoped that the other two didn’t finish so long before him that Vork ruled that Flea was unworthy to remain at the North Pole. Once he was finished building, he hurried through the paint job, which never took very long. The toy box was soon complete. Unfortunately, Flea was in such a rush to put down his paintbrush that he sat it too close to the edge of his table and it promptly fell off.

             
Flea reached for the falling brush but his reaction time was not quick enough. But the brush never did hit the floor. Flea’s worry was instantly followed by a surge of warmth in his hand. The slightest of breezes shot up from the ground and propelled the paintbrush into his hand. Flea quickly glanced around but nobody seemed to have noticed what just happened. No one, that is, except Vork, whose eyes were drawn toward Flea’s hand – and for good reason. As Flea carefully placed the brush back on his worktable, he saw the faint golden light once again through his gloved hand. Thankfully, Vork didn’t speak about the glow. The older elf swept his hand through the holographic timer and pushed the stopped number over Flea’s toy chest.

             
Four minutes, thirty seconds,
Flea saw proudly, especially when he had the chance to study his toy chest, which looked better than he could’ve hoped.

             
He finally looked at the other two students, both of whom were still busily working. The timer at the front of the room continued to run as Rome and Minko were far behind, not to mention that neither of their toy chests looked as good as his. Flea felt better knowing that at least he belonged here, though a part of him felt bad to see the other two struggling. Minko finally finished but Vork waited just a few more seconds before he brought the timer – and Rome – to a stop. The large holographic number blinked continuously having reached the ten-minute mark.