Pitch

Chapter 7 Milk Fish



I spent the rest of the week searching for anyone to go to STR with Wes and me. While everyone was happy to go anywhere with my friend, finding someone willing to travel with me proved to be a challenge. We had few options to begin with, and even fewer we were willing to consider.

“I want fish,” said Lance as Wes and I followed him out of the cafeteria.

“Fish?” I questioned.

“Not just any fish. I want three Gilded Star Lions,” Lance added.

“You want us to buy you fish?” Wes asked.

“If you want me to go anywhere with Danger Rabbit, that’s my price,” Lance said before trying to leave us to get lost in a sea of people during the passing period.

Wes and I spent two days going around asking people to accompany us on our trip. By Thursday, we were left with no other choice but to turn to more unique options. One such person was Lance Hagen, an elf who’d gone to school with me since before my transformation. He and I were never very close, mainly because he could be annoying, but I never thought we had a problem with one another. That was until that day.

We followed the pointy-eared wood elf through the crowd.

“But why?” I asked.

“Because when you fell through the ceiling three months ago, you killed my fish,” he replied.

Hearing him became difficult as he attempted to distance himself.

“That was you,” I said in a lighter, almost joking tone that Lance didn’t seem to appreciate.

“Yes, that was me,” he said as he stopped at his locker, finally giving Wes and me time to talk without him trying to lose sight of us.

“You know, it took 2 hours to get all that broken fish bowl glass out of me,” I joked.

“Get me my fish, or find someone else,” the elf said before slamming his locker shut and storming away, literally.

The guy must have been pissed because he summoned a storm cloud to knock me away while he walked off. So Lance was a no-go.

After school that day, Wes and I walked home together. We turned over every stone we could think of, but no one was willing to go to STR, not with me.

“Those fish cost more than a sports car,” I said.

“Then we’ll find someone else,” Wes reassured.

“No one wants to go anywhere with me.”

“I do,” Wes said.

“You don’t count. You’re tough enough my bad luck can’t hurt you, and you’re nice to everyone.”

“We just need to keep looking,” he repeated.

“Is there anyone left?” I questioned with doubt.

Wes put his arm around my shoulder as we walked down the street. I didn’t mean to kill the mood, but lucky for me, Wes was good at picking it back up.

“What if we sneak you into the festival?”

He spoke so casually I had to believe he thought it was a good idea.

“We don’t have to tell my parents you’re going if you don’t go with me. It would be so easy. We go by ourselves and meet up when we get there,” he continued.

“It's definitely "a plan, " but I don’t have the money for a plane ticket without my dad’s help. He wouldn’t let me go anywhere that far away by myself anyway,” I said before he could further spin out into his bad idea.

Before going home, Wes and I took a bit of a detour and went into town. Daybreak was modern enough to have cellphones and TVs, but so dated that most buildings looked faded and in need of a paint job.

There were three places to hang out when I didn’t want to go home. The Dead Woods was a great place for parties, but often a trouble magnet. Uptown Mall was the closest thing to the modern world within city limits, but lacking a job meant window shopping was the best I could do when I paid a visit. There was Mabel’s Marble Slab, an ice-cream shop that doubled as an 80s themed arcade. The retro lights, old school games, and classic milkshakes made it a good place to zone out. Not to mention my unnaturally bad luck never seemed to hurt me there. My curse made it impossible to win a simple game of Tetris, but at least the ceiling never crashed over my head.

Wes and I had a usual table in the back, close to the kitchen doors. I would have steered clear of sitting there since the swinging doors could have hit me, but Wes thought sitting closer to the food would mean quicker service. His strength and speed were natural abilities, but they required a lot of energy.

That’s how most fae abilities worked. Their natural gifts came with drawbacks and equalizers. I suppose all magic was like that, in a way. Though the cost of most spells was typically money.

My friend had a big appetite. While he wasn't much bulkier than me, he definitely had a toned physique. Unless he made it a priority, he wouldn't have put on a lot of muscle. Why would he bother? His physical gifts came from burning energy, not from building his body. Maybe he could have done both. Either way, from what I could tell, he had to eat enough for two people if he wanted strength enough to lift a car. Without calories to burn, Wes was as strong, or maybe as weak, as a human.

“What does STR even mean?” I asked while I watched him devour plates of meat and glasses of ice cream.

“Super Together Rainbow, or something. It just sounds cool,” he said.

“So, it doesn’t mean anything,” I said sarcastically.

“People love acronyms,” he replied.

“But people don’t love me.”

“Dude, keep your gloom and doom away from my shake.”

“It’s alright, I think BJ and I are getting those internships, so at least I’ll have something to do this summer.”

“Don’t give up hope. We've got time. And anyone can be a ride along,” Wes said with a mouth full of French fries.

His cheerful demeanor was enough to make me tired, trying to keep up.

“Why don’t we invite BJ?”

“No way, man,” he swallowed his mouthful before trying to continue, but I already cut him off.

“Listen, I mean, what if we told your mom we invited BJ?”

“But she wouldn’t actually come?” He asked as I passed a handful of napkins across the table for him to clean his face.

“Exactly.”

“That ... that could work, but what if my mom asks BJ’s parents about something or whatever?” Wes asked before getting to his feet.

“We’ll have to get BJ in on it,” I said.

“And you think she’ll help us?”

“I think she’ll help me.”

“Great,” Wes said as he stood next to the table with his hands in his pockets.

“You didn’t bring any money, did you?” I asked with a low brow, realizing I was stuck with the bill.


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