Page 19 of Pick Me Up On Tuesdays

Our team, composed of myself, Joy Win, Shun Hara, and some wildlife club members, intends to create a documentary that captures the beauty, complexity, and ecological importance of our natural surroundings. With Joy serving as the Wildlife Club Captain, Shun providing her organizational expertise, and myself handling research and production, we believe we have the necessary skills to produce a compelling and high-quality entry.

However, in order to execute this project effectively, we require institutional support. This includes access to better filming equipment, potential transportation for location scouting, and—if possible—a small budget for necessary resources. We strongly believe that with the right tools, our documentary has the potential to not only compete but to win.

We appreciate your time and consideration and would love the opportunity to further discuss how this endeavor could benefit our school. Thank you for your support.

Sincerely, Clark Alderman.”

Silence.

Joy blinked. "I mean... it's good."

Shun nodded. "It’s actually really solid."

I exhaled. "Okay, great. Great. No critiques?"

Joy tapped the table. "I mean... you could’ve thrown in a sob story for emotional impact. Something like, 'As a humble student with big dreams and zero gold to my name, I implore you, madame, to bestow upon us your divine financial blessing.'"

I groaned. "Yes, Joy, because the principal would definitely take that seriously."

Shun, ignoring us both, asked, "Are you sure you don’t want to mention why we need the money so badly?"

"As in, the part where we accidentally wrecked Ethan's million-dollar convertible and now I’m in a state of financial peril?" I deadpanned. "Yeah. No."

Shun shrugged. "Just saying. Transparency can be good."

Joy snorted. "Yes, Clark. Be transparent. Maybe even include a postscript: P.S. Also, this is a subtle cry for help. If you have any recommendations on how to un-destroy expensive vehicles, please advise."

I ignored them both, folded the letter with utter precision, and stuffed it into an envelope. "I’m handing it in before I lose my mind."

The principal’s office was one of those places where I only entered when I was being rewarded. That was before this morning. My stomach formed twists when I recalled.

The secretary barely glanced up. "Submission box is on the desk."

I nodded stiffly, dropped the envelope into the wooden box, and left before my anxiety could convince me to take it back and rewrite it again.

For the next few hours, I tried to pretend like I hadn’t just thrown my fate into administrative limbo.

But then.

Then, I heard it.

"Clark Alderman, please report to the principal’s office."

A hush fell over the class. Several heads turned toward me. My stomach plummeted straight into an abyss.

Joy, who was sitting at the desk beside mine, grinned like she was watching a reality show. "Ohhh. You’re so getting expelled."

I shot her a glare and grabbed my bag with shaky hands. "If I don’t make it back... tell my story."

Shun sighed. "You’ll be fine."

Would I, though? Would I really?

Because as I walked toward the principal’s office, all I could think was:

What if she saw through it? What if she knew?

What if, somehow, Principal Catherine already knew about the car?

---