Author's Note: So this was an assignment for English in which were supposed to write a story about any sort of quest. Of course, I sort of forgot about the last two elements of the quest (return to real world; application of the goal) but whatever! xP I got a 19/20, three smiley faces, and two underlined sentences, and that's all matters. xD
Although it sounds rather rushed at the end. Oops.

It was a typical, chilly Saturday morning during October as I trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen, mentally making plans for the upcoming day. Watching T.V. in my pajamas for a few hours would be nice, perhaps followed by an

hour or two at the mall to buy that gray sweater I had been eyeing for a few weeks, or maybe even a quick trip to Starbucks with a friend. All ideas were equally appealing to me, though none offered the thrill factor I had been striving for ever since a friend mentioned that my life wasn't spicy enough. She had obviously not been referring to the mild salsa I had brought for lunch earlier that afternoon. However, my day took an unexpected turn when my mom told me to –

"Go out and buy a strawberry cake."

My hand paused just as it neared the box of frozen Eggo waffles and I slowly turned my head to gape at her, well aware my face was portraying the bemusement I definitely felt. "A strawberry cake?" I asked. "Why-?"

"The matter is not open for discussion. Now, would you rather I have you conduct a thorough cleaning of the house or do you think you can follow through with the assignment?" I neglected to answer, and she grinned. "Very well then. Get dressed and be back by 12:30."

Five minutes later, I found myself backing out of the driveway in my 1996 Toyota Corolla while pocketing the thirty dollars provided for Operation: Strawberry Cake. As I made my way down the street, I glanced at the dashboard; the clock read a quarter to eleven. I breathed a sigh of relief, figuring I had more than enough time to complete the task and be back in time to catch my favorite show, which aired at twelve o' clock.

I then realized that I had no idea as to where I planned on getting the cake. There was always the local Giant, but the quality of their cakes was highly questionable (my fifth birthday cake was supposed to be all pink but had a few green tints here and there.) Then there was Wegmans, which never failed to satisfy my taste buds; however, they were a good twenty minutes away. Of course, I had nearly two hours.
So Wegmans it was. En route, I got a call from my friend, who asked me if I wanted to go to Starbucks with her. I pondered the proposal for a few seconds before taking her up on the offer – after all, 'I had nearly two hours'.

I headed instead toward the coffee shop and she arrived not much longer after I did. We both put in our orders ("Two light caramel mochas, please.") and discussed logistics for homecoming as we waited for our orders. Once we received our drinks, the conversation moved toward her sweet sixteen party and the food she planned on serving. Speaking of food…I checked my cell phone. Much to my horror, it was already eleven thirty and I only had an hour left to follow through with my mother's instructions.

Hastily collecting my things, I said goodbye to my friend and resumed my drive to Wegmans. When I finally arrived, I noticed with a sinking feeling in my stomach that it was the day to be there, for there was not a single parking spot left to take. As a result, I was forced to spend another five minutes looking for another parking spot by the adjacent Target, and another five minutes walking to the store.

I dashed inside Wegmans and toward the bakery, where I frantically scanned the shelves for a strawberry cake. Upon first glance – and second and third – there were none to be found. Several more minutes of rearranging cake boxes proved to be futile still. Heart racing, I temporarily ceased my searching and went instead to a worker in the freezer aisle (whose nametag read My name is: John.) to ask him if he knew of any other possible locations for a strawberry cake.

He scratched his beard before saying, "Can't say I do," and stacked the last carton of milk in the freezer.

"All right," I replied dejectedly. "Thank you for your help."

I was about to walk away when he stopped me. "Wait! Just realized I do know of such a place. Follow me, sweetheart."

I obeyed. He took me behind the bakery counter and asked me to wait right outside the Employee's Only room. Minutes later the door opened and John walked out carrying a strawberry cake.

I couldn't help but grin at the sight. "Thank you so much, John," I said, taking the cake as he handed it to me.

"No problem."

I threw him a smile before walking toward the checkout line. I withdrew the money from my pocket and then handed it to the cashier. She rang it up, bagged the cake, and said, "Thirty dollars and once cent, please."

I gaped at her. I only had thirty dollars; there was not a single penny in my pocket, for I had not had the time to retrieve my wallet from my room. Thinking fast, I muttered an "Excuse me," and causally bent down to the ground to search for any dropped change. To my great luck, there was a nickel right by feet – what a lovely coincidence. So, I picked it up, handed it to the cashier along with my thirty dollars, received my four cents of change and the cake, and ran back outside to my car.

I arrived back home in record time. Feeling particularly proud of myself, I marched into the kitchen and handed my startled mother the strawberry cake. She smiled and uttered a thank you before peering at the side of the box. Her face immediately took on an expression that I could not decipher. Wordlessly, she handed me the box and I read what had caused her to look so…indecipherable:

Expires 9/7/07