𝚂𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝙼𝚢 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 (Complete)

𝙰𝚒𝚛 𝚅𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

Ｇｒｅａｔｎｅｓｓ

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭.

Ｇｒｅａｔｎｅｓｓ

S𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭

"For the thousandth time, no, you can't go to lunch yet. Now, hold still!"

I'm currently sitting on Collin's shoulders while reaching toward an air vent in Mr. Tarson's classroom.

Why?

You'll find out soon enough.

"Couldn't you have stood on a ladder, or a chair, or literally anything else?" Collin questions from below me. "Was my participation really necessary?"

Well, no.

But that's beside the point.

"Stop complaining and get me a little higher. I can't reach the vent," I say.

"Pfft. Shorty."

"I refuse to call people names."

"What about Justin?"

"Just get me higher before I stand on your head."

He snickers.

"And I am not short!" I insist. "I'm just slightly...vertically challenged."

"If you say so, shorty," Collin replies.

I purposefully dig my heel into his shoulder, and he winces in pain. "Watch it, will you?" he shouts up at me.

"Watch the ceiling?" I question. "Good idea. Wouldn't want to hit my head and get a concussion. Thanks."

"Actually, it wouldn't be so bad," he mumbles.

I ignore him as my fingers just brush over the air vent.

"What are you even doing up there?" he questions as he shifts and my fingers fall from the metal.

I look down at him with disgust. "I'm escaping school. What does it look like?"

"Really?" he exclaims. "Take me with you." His eyes sparkle up at me.

"No, Mr. Nincompoop. I'm going to adjust the air vent so it sucks in rather than out. But your constant moving is making my mission extremely difficult."

"Oh, I understand now! You're making sure a certain gust of wind isn't noticed by anyone's noses. That's genius—"

"GROSS. NO."

"Hey, it's still a good idea."

Reaching back up, I touch the air vent with the tips of my fingers and carefully begin adjusting the metal strips.

"How exactly is that going to make it suck air?"

"It's not, genius. We still have to go adjust the air handler and make the fan go in reverse. I'm just making sure lots of air can get through these vents."

"Okay..."

I'm just about finished opening up the metal duct when the classroom door swings open and scares the life out of Collin. He loses his balance, and we go tumbling to the floor.

As we lay in a tangled mess I think, 'Shoot, we're caught for sure', but then I hear a familiar voice say, "What are you doing, Paris? And...Collin?"

I roll off of Collin and jump to my feet to face Lucas. "We weren't doing anything! I mean, we were, but nothing we weren't supposed to be doing—"

"What Paris means to say," Collin begins calmly, adjusting his collar sophisticatedly, "is that Mr. Tarson told us to fix the air inlets for his class this evening."

Air inlets? Really?

And with the way he's talking, I really thought he was going to say 'tea time' instead of evening.

Wait, evening—

"Mr. Tarson isn't even one of your teachers," Lucas retorts.

"So?" Collins returns.

"You know, I really feel like I'm in the crossfire so I'm going to just leave—" I begin.

"NO!" the two boys exclaim together. "WHAT?" They say together again. "STOP COPYING ME!"

I roll my eyes and walk toward the classroom door. "I have a plane to catch. Hasta la vista, losers."

"A plane?" Collin questions.

"Where are you going?" Lucas inquires.

"Nowhere! I just meant that I have something to do before lunch—you know, forget it."

"Okay," the boys say together again.

And that's my cue to leave.

I rush out of there before they can start arguing again. Honestly, I'm not sure why they're so on edge with each other. They're both equally annoying. They could probably rule the world with the power of their dumb minds.

Oh, wait, they're missing their secret weapon.

Justin.

Speaking of—or thinking of, I guess—where is that blank-headed redhead?

"Hey, Paris!"

Just the voice I wanted to hear. Well, isn't it just my lucky day?

"Now he's summoned just when I think about him?!" I hiss.

"Aw, you were thinking about me?" he questions, walking around to face me with puppy eyes.

"In your dreams."

"I actually do dream about you...you're pranking me with a pigeon as your accomplice...also my hair is green for some reason."

"That dream sounds pretty accurate."

"You have a pigeon!?"

I roll my eyes and sigh, replying, "Sure."

"I've always wanted to meet a pigeon!" he exclaims. "What's its name?"

"Bob," I reply, walking around him and towards the back exit of the school.

He sighs dreamily. "Bob. He sounds amazing. When can I meet him?"

I pause in the middle of the hallway. "He refuses to be in the presence of anything but greatness," I return cryptically.

"And where is this so-called...greatness found?" he questions in the same mysterious tone.

My face lowers as I face my beat-up converse set upon the pale epoxy flooring. My heart tightens in my chest as a memory resurfaces.

The ground shook like giant monsters were trampling the premises. Their weight showed no mercy with every thump.

Or maybe it was just the sound of my beating heart.

It thumped dangerously in my chest, desperately trying to rip away from its place. The ringing in my ears shot through my skull as I stumbled backward.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Until it was like I was falling.

Probably because I was.

I was being held captive in my very own mind. Her words were taunting me.

Failure.

Failure.

Failure.

"Greatness is something some are born with and others are not," I tell Justin monotonically, before heading down the hallway and out the back door.