I've heard the name "Clay" before but couldn't remember when, where or from whom. Yet this might not be of such importance. Bridgette was a hell of a person determined to kick Vince and Damon right on those places. She was convicted we could win, but with a good plan. Oxygen Arians were well trained, but not so smart. "The entire group of warriors from Room 9 is here, they came from all over the city. But they're quite stupid without Snow and he is missing! He has taught them to listen to the superior before acting. They need their leader and I couldn't think of other place he ought to be but this one. The secret Cubicle was build for emergency occasions and Oliver simply adores it. Unfortunately Dr Gene and the others are at the other side of the Common Room, or the Cubicle could've saved us. He's in danger and I think Oliver is too!"

I devoured her words and hoped William and Barbie did the same. The battle against the rebels and Oxygen building were still a blank piece of parchment for me. "Bridgette, it's been only a couple of minutes since he's left. I don't think he might be far or in danger, he was here with me all the time. And we knew things were going bad outside but he kind of had a plan and he... persuaded me to help."

Bridgette arched both eyebrows, a sudden thought of distrust breaking from her eyes. But as soon the feelling appeared it vanished, as though she instantly slapped a ridiculous image off her mind. "So Snow left already with a plan? Was it certain? And you are still here because..?"

"Hm", William called, "we don't know the guy's plan so we made our own. A brilliant idea that can work if we get to the chldren's room if there is any, and you can actually help us get there, what you think?"

"Of course I will help." We watched as she brushed her platinum hair up in a messed (but perfect) bun in the top of her head. "I know everything about your power, Angelina, and any plan you have is welcome." She bypassed us firmly and went right through the Cubicle's backside wall. "Come! The two opposite walls are crossable!" She yelled from a hole that had formed just for her head.

•••

Our shoes made loud noises wherever we went. Cement, wood, stone. The sound reverberated to the walls and ceiling and came back as if there was some mini Jorge running inside our ears. Soon enough we were in the elevator. Bridgette pressed three different numbers, right in the middle of the keyboard, forming a little triangle of circles.

      William peered above her, his cheeks almost touching hers. "Three numbers? This isn't exactly a floor in our humanly dimension."

She smiled, looking sideways at him. "It is the key numbers to my apartment lobby."

"Oh" he smirked, looking back at her, still resting the head on her shoulder. The explicit flirting caught me by surprise. I was about to form an axplicit argue to explicitly YELL William that that woman was at least 5 years older than him.

"How old are you?" He suddently asked as though he could read my thoughts. Ah, yes, he actually could.

"21" She said smoothly.

His foot found my shin. "That's not so bad..."

If you don't get off her I will transform you back into a toy. We are in the middle of a war, you stupid. I howled towards him. Not only me, Barbie was also fuming behind them, annoyed to her limit. "Why are we going to your apartment? That was not what we asked for." She said while gnashing teeth.

     "I don't mind going to her apartment."

     "Shut up!"

"I have a few toys you'd love to play with." Bridgette slightly pushed Will so she could face me. Her eyes were earth-painted brown. "They are small and weight almost nothing. I have waited a lifetime to see them being useful at least once."

While she talked, William moved to a spot by my side, opposite Barbie. I didn't see what he did, but Barbie's reaction was a heated snort and roll of eyes. The elevator stopped and we found ourselves facing a great hall with 3 big doors on each side. It was nothing like the place Mom and Sr's provisional dormitory was. This one was wider and fancier. We stepped onto the red carpet that formed a strip throughout all the way. On the sides of it, near the doors, the floor that wasn't covered was made of what looked like marble.

All the 6 doors were wooden made, each one personalized with different ornaments at the corners. But a particulary door at the center of the left side called my attention — its brown was way darker than the others and the whole surface was not smooth, but messily checkered with big squared blocks carved on it, like black gearboxes pilled on each other.

I went towards it to touch because the style was so different from the ordinary doors I've deal with, but Bridgette pushed my arm to step in front of its locker machine. She looked a bit nervous and I caught her eyes lingering more than the necessary towards a vase in the corner of the hall. Someone nudged my back. I ignored, now noticing that there was something circular hidden between the bush. It was a security camera.

Someone nudged again.

Ignoring the nudge I turned back to Bridgette Clay, watching her indicator finger pressing against the greenish screen for identification.

Another poke.

The exquisite door was unlocked. I couldn't even have a glimpse inside, someone very insistent was nudging my shoulder for quite some time now and I turned around to glare at William. He looked weirder than the normal. "Look at your feet."

My eyes wandered to the floor and I almost had a heart attack. The welcome carpet had a middle finger stamped on it, in which we could read the following sentence:

Bitch, I am perfect.

My brows frowned at once. A loud bang indicated the door had been closed sharply behind Bridgette. I wondered why she did that; weren't we allowed to go into the apartment?

Only if it wasn't really hers.

We stared at each other. Barbie looked careworn. William grimaced. "This can not be possible, I mean, did she hack her way into his house?" 

      "I think her finger had the pass already."

      "And why would she lie?"

•••

Two minutes which seemed hours passed by before Bridgette showed up again.

"Here." She held me a bag and locked the door quickly. The bag was very light compared to its size.

I unzipped carefully, peeking inside. The first thing I saw was a big, fluffy, and scary hat. And I suddenly remembered when, where, and from whom I've heard Bridgette's last name. There, in front of my eyes, as clear and precise as the fact that I brush my teeth everyday, was a full squad of JORGES. Little Grebe's Street, 55...

      "What do you think?" She asked.

      "They make a good army." William beamed at her. Then turned to me. "Let's go, Ang. Let's face that bunch of freaks with our bunch of freaks."

      I glanced one last time at the door, then to the bag in my hands. "Yes let's do this."