Page 112 of Pick Me Up On Tuesdays

Later on, I suggested we return by a different route—one that would redeem our failed trip by making it good for something. Instead of retracing our steps back to school, we could take a shorter path, shaving off a full day of travel and ending with a final stop at Dragons Park.

Mr. Dax didn’t like the idea about the Dragon Park stop. His brows furrowed, and his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he contemplated it. “Absolutely not,” he said at first. “We’re already behind schedule. Mrs. Catherine expects us back as soon as possible.”

I expected that answer. I had to push harder.

“You know,” I started, keeping my tone casual but calculated, “If we go back now, we’ll be the group that faded into the background—forgotten before the credits even roll. But if we bring back something unique—something no one else has—who’s to say the documentary isn’t still worth making?” I let the idea sink in before delivering the final blow. “The other school team might be ahead of us, but do they have dragons or something unique?”

Mr. Dax's jaw tightened. He was silent a second too long, the dead giveaway that I had gotten to him. I could feel the others watching, their anticipation thick in the air.

Joy, ever the opportunist, seized it. "He's right. If we return with almost nothing, we lose. But a dragon park? That's a game changer.”

Even Shun nodded, which was about as excited as she got. Ethan simply smirked, crossing his arms like he already knew I'd won.

Mr. Dax took a sharp breath, rubbing his temple. "One day," he said. "One stop. But if all this goes terribly wrong, I'm blaming you."

I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

The mood in the room shifted. Whispers spread throughout the group, some excited, some still absorbing the sudden twist of fate. But the disappointment before? It had started to lift.

Chapter 32: Dragons and One Missing Kid

We hit for the Dragon Park. Chaos, expected. Joy and Max butchered a song up front—so bad, the bus engine sounded like Mozart. Mia filmed everything, phone glued to her hand. Shun scrolled memes, smirking as if her phone whispered secrets. Mr. Dax? Dead asleep. Classic.

Upon arrival, a towering troll at the entrance handed us a map with the enthusiasm of someone who had been doing this job for far too long. "Stay together," he grumbled, in the same tone one might use to say, "Enjoy your impending doom."

The park itself was vast, a mix of open fields and rocky outcrops, all designed to house dragons in what could generously be called a semi-contained habitat.

Dragons of all colors and sizes lounged about, some basking on heated stones like overgrown lizards on a beach vacation, others soaring overhead, their wings casting enormous shadows that sent toddlers into giggle-fits and parents into mild cardiac distress. Despite their fearsome reputation, these dragons were allegedly trained—though judging by the scorch marks on some of the enclosures, I had my doubts. Enchantments kept them from incinerating guests, but I still wasn’t keen on testing the fine print of their training.

Families and adventurers wandered the pathways, marveling at the creatures. There were attractions like guided tours, feeding sessions, and, for those with too much money and not enough sense, the chance to ride a dragon under strict supervision. Ethan eyed the flight experience with thesame expression he usually reserved for expensive cars and questionable life choices, but said nothing.

We were here for one reason—to capture something spectacular on film, something so breathtaking that Principal Catherine would be forced to admit this trip was worth it.

Joy declared, "We need a moment so dramatic that people will see it and go, ‘Wow, we can’t let this footage go to waste.’"

Max, of course, had other ideas. "What if we stage an almost-accident? Like, pretend someone almost gets eaten?"

I shot him a look so dry it could’ve started a wildfire. "How about we don't get expelled?"

Mia ignored our bickering, already scanning the area. "We need a strong opening. Maybe something about the history of dragons in this region. Clark, you’re the nerd. Narrate something."

I sighed, but didn’t argue, flipping through the park’s brochure to find something sufficiently educational.

That was when she appeared.

At first, I didn’t notice her. The others had scattered—some by a feeding station, others gawking at a sapphire-colored dragon curled in its nest. But when I turned back to the main pathway, there she stood.

Tall and willowy, she shimmered slightly, as if reality itself was debating whether to keep her in focus. Her skin had the smooth texture of polished ivory, glowing faintly in the midday sun.

Delicate, translucent fins fanned from the sides of her head, like petals sculpted from moonlight. And her eyes—deep, swirling with iridescent hues—locked onto mine with an urgency that made my stomach do something very uncool.

She was a Neravine.

I had only read about them—waterborne beings, rare and mysterious, known for manipulating mist and illusion. They almost never left their sanctuaries.

"Have you seen my son?" Her voice was a whisper, but it cut through the air like a blade through mist.

Before I could respond, Max—because of course it was Max—jumped in. "No, but we can find him. That sounds like a solid adventure."

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