It all started at a concert

Chapter six

Kaylee's POV

It was a peaceful day at our little house place thing. Well. Almost peaceful. It was. Until...

Do you have that one friend that does some things that relate to some weird TV show? No? Okay. Just checking. Right in the middle of The Amazing World of Gumball, a certain brunette busted through the door...

Singing the mail song from Blue's Clues...

"When it comes I wanna wail. MMMMAAAIIL!"

She landed on one knee, holding out a stack of letters to me.

"For you, my lordship."

"Emily... What have you been smoking?" I chuckled, grabbing the mail. She sent me a look before skipping off.

What's with her?\

I thought. Throwing the stack of papers on the table, one caught my eye. It was for me, me, Kaylee Twilligear... FROM ITALY?

In a flash, I was holding the pure white envelope containing something inside. IT EVEN SMELLED LIKE ITALY. I ripped it open, discarding the shredded envelope to the floor, now only holding a folded letter.

Wait...

What if, when I open it, a gas comes out and kills me, or I'm already infected. Either way, NOT GOOD PEOPLE. ME DYING IS A NOPEY NOPEY.

Oh well. Italy's too nice to do that. Now let me clear this up first. Italy is not a person. I mean Italy, Italy. The state. The country. The continent! Okay, went a little too far. The country Italy. I've always wanted to go, and I just realized I've been standing here talking, when I should be reading a deadly letter.

As I opened it slowly, with one eye open, I dropped it, running behind the counter, waiting for some big explosion or something to happen.

"Kaylee... What the actual heck are you doing down there?" I heard Haylee ask. I peered up and jumped, seeing a face right there, I moaned as my head hit the side of the counter.

Wait. I'll ask her to hand me the letter, then, if it's going to explode or some bad thing, she'll die. Yeah...

"Could you hand me that letter?" I asked, reaching my arm out for her hand it to me.

"Sure." She said, looking me up and down like, What's wrong with her today? "I'm gonna go now." She said, walking away rather too quickly after handing me what I wanted.

"How rude." I tutted, unfolding the letter.

Dear Ms. Kaylee Twilligear,

We would wish to inform you that Italy has chosen you to come and live here, training with some most talented players, and possibly playing in the professional volleyball league.

We will pay for your trip here, in our private jet in a reasonable amount of time. Some of our men will assist you to the house you will now be living in with your new teammates. You are expected to be friendly to the others and be respectful.

Your chosen position is right hitter as we see you play there bestly.

Upon arrival, you will be given a uniform and custom kneepads, along with special volleyball shoes. You shall be expected to be at every practice on Monday through Thursday, from 6-9 at our court in your uniform.

A messenger will be sent to get you on the arrival of our jet.

                                                                                                    -Professional Volleyball League