Pencils & Polaroids

40: pine forest patronus

Group projects helped me understand why Batman works alone. 

Marvel just glitter-coats the idea of working in a group. The multiverse has over 70,000 characters nevertheless, in reality, everyone wants to be Ironman's blend with Captain America. Everyone wants to snap their fingers, become the hero, show off a shield, and not die. Marvel forgot to teach us that despite a theory like that in the multiverse, in this reality on Earth, especially Cross students, need to agree to play the other roles too. 

With another once-over at the bulletin displaying all the wallpapers and covers of the four teams, I sip down the batch of Oreo Milkshake from our in-house Starbucks-rip off brewery. 

Why am I calling it a rip-off? Because the brewery was short on smoothie glasses, they ended up serving me Oreo Shake in a Wine glass. Partially because I suggested they do so instead of holding up the billing line.

Oreo Shake in a wine glass—not a pleasant sight. 

The upshot of this morning's very incendiary task has been ruled in our favor. The Falcons won five points each (the extra one for getting the theme right), the Owls won second (three points each) with a hysterical Harry Potter make-do, the Sparrows won third (two points each) after which I overheard some people gushing that their group had a fallout, and the fact that Hawks came in last has made my evening star-studded. Selena and Maddison look hilarious in the wallpaper--so much so that Selena lost a couple hundred followers on her Influencer-gram.

I'm the only bird still lingering in the gallery admiring the walled photos despite a very fun campfire dinner happening in the outdoor fields. A campfire on a chilly December night does sound inviting, but the faint music that I hear with people dancing and laughing does not. 

Luke Myers did a pretty commendable job adding the finishing touches to every group's cover shoot. My eyes keep going back to our cover shoots--especially the ones where it's just Rainer and me. 

I can feel the sexual tension from the photos traveling under my skin. Regardless of all the crimes we've committed, the biggest sin has to be the one where we repel each other. We look so good together, it's unfair to the laws of nature. 

"What is that?" I glance down at a little boy beside my leg. 

First, I check my drink and make sure it's still Oreo Milkshake and not Aunt Roberta. Then, I gape back at the boy who is barely reaching my waist but has eyes as big as Mort in Madagascar when he's eyeing my Oreo smoothie. 

Should I alert the guards that an untamed kid has broken inside the Redwood campus or should I hide my Oreo milkshake and gulp it all down in one go? 

"Are you visible to everyone or just me?" 

The kid doesn't answer me. More so I think he didn't understand my question. "What are you drinking?" 

I take a step away from him. "Shoo, go back to your mommy." 

He stares at me like I'm a bogey with three eyes. 

I'm not someone who particularly fancies kids, but I'm not against their existence either. It's children like him who are overly curious that piss me off. My personality and babysitting are like Maeve Wiley playing Mia Thermopolis in The Princess Diaries. 

I quickly hide the brown drink by covering my palm over it. "Um, no." Jesus, I'm stuttering now. I never stutter. "This is very spicy you won't like it." 

"That looks like chocolate milk." 

Okay. Whose child is this? 

I eye the door, debating whether I can still renege on this kid and run out of this gallery or I've grown too old to behave that crudely.